One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

This is the instructional hub for a study of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.


Essential Questions


First, students will work in small groups to write answers to a set of essential questions adapted from the year-long questions suggested by the syllabus. These questions inform the literature and nonfiction we study.

  1. To what extent should we trust that what we see is what is really happening?
  2. To what extent should we trust our memories of the past?
  3. Is it better to be ignorant and happy, or to gain knowledge, even at the cost of happiness? Why?
  4. To what extent and in what ways does power corrupt?
  5. What does it look like to be truly alone, and what is the impact of loneliness on us?
  6. To what extent is human nature self-destructive?
  7. How should we deal with individuals who threaten a community?

Remember that you have precise feedback about how to answer essential questions thoroughly in this post: Insufficient vs. Sufficient Work.

We start with handwritten responses. After small-group discussions, those responses can be typed up and submitted for feedback.


Holt’s Threshold


Students will be given class time to read the novel and find what we call “Holt’s threshold.” We can then discuss whether to continue to read One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest or to select a work of equivalent literary merit. Here are the two relevant instructional posts:

The Reading Process

Choosing to Read [2018]


Non-Fiction


We will also study this nonfiction piece, written on the 50th anniversary of the novel:

Ken Kesey’s Wars: “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” at 50

Ever since it was published 50 years ago critics have described Ken Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest as the great nonconformist novel, but Nathaniel Rich writes that the novel’s true message is about the militarization of American society-and the trauma of war.

This is literary analysis and argument from Nathaniel Rich, who writes often about literature. The first paragraph:

When a novel becomes a “classic”—when it is digested by critics and English teachers and study guide authors into bite-size morsels that can be slurped with a spoon—it undergoes a peculiar type of transformation. For one, it ceases to resemble a novel. Even the messiest, most obstreperous books are reduced to a litany of bullet points, or a single bullet point. Moby Dick: Obsession devours. Crime and Punishment: Guilt corrupts. White Noise: Technology numbs. It can be disorienting to actually read the damn thing, and find out the epitaph is no more descriptive than a chapter title, and a misleading one at that.

This fits our approach to reading. For a refresher, look back at the reading process posts, or read this:

Well, Why Read?