41 pages • 1 hour read
Henry’s arm is prominently featured at the beginning of the novel, in the aftermath of the accident that kills Joe Ben and gravely injures Henry, and in the climactic scene of Hank sailing logs downriver to Wakonda Pacific. The arm is severed from Henry’s body as a result of that accident, and so it is irrevocably tied to tragedy. At the same time, the arm, with its middle finger raised, becomes a symbol of the Stampers’ defiance.
A falling tree crushes Henry’s arm, and as Hank helps him out of their truck and into the emergency room, the arm “dropped out of the ragged sleeve to the street like a snake coming out of its skin” (591). The image is gruesome, but also comical in a tragic-farcical way. The absurdity of the situation is compounded: Hank picks the arm up out of the mud and keeps it in his freezer, joking about possibly “fry[ing] it up to go with my breakfast,” and later accidently snapping off a finger “clean as a whistle” (704, 710). Henry himself had already made light of the loss of his arm, joking in the hospital, “I was kinda attached to it!” (632).
Yet as the novel closes, and circles back around to its beginning, the arm emerges as a symbol of the Stampers’ defiance. Hank manipulates its fingers and attaches it to a pole on his log boat so that everyone in town will see that he had “taken trouble to tie down all the fingers but the middle finger, leaving the rigid and universal sentiment lifted with unmistakable scorn to all that came past” (10). Henry’s disembodied arm thus becomes a powerful, clear signal of the Stamper family’s refusal to bow down to the will of others.
Music is a regular motif in Sometimes a Great Notion. The novel’s title comes from the lyrics of a song by folk and blues artist Huddie Ledbetter (Leadbelly). There are frequent references to characters listening to music, whether via the jukebox in Teddy’s bar, or via the transistor radio Joe Ben wears as he drowns. Minor characters Ray and Rod serve as popular town musicians. Lyrics from several songs are scattered throughout the novel, from the anthem of the labor union cause, “Which Side are You On?,” to “Woody Knows Nothing,” a song by Erik Darling that Viv sings (425, 539).
Music can provide spiritual lift. When torrential rains miraculously end after Joe Ben dies and Hank agrees to side with the logging union, Jenny sings a song “to the tune of ‘It Ain’t Gonna Rain No More’,” and Ray sings, “I got Blue Skies, and a clear road” (656, 661). These lighter moments turn serious, however. The rain returns, the narrator tells readers how Jenny became a prostitute at age 15, and Ray purposefully plunges his hands into boiling water in a moment of mental instability.
Similarly, one of the most significant scenes between Lee and Hank is a conversation they have about their mutual love of jazz. Despite their stark personal differences and fierce feud, the half-brothers each adore jazz. Even in this shared love, however, their differences show through, with Lee being enthusiastic about the music of John Coltrane’s album Africa Brass and other avant-garde pieces, while Hank prefers traditional jazz that he sees as more masculine and “something with a little more balls on it” (315). Lee names the difference in their tastes in racial terms as “White Jazz” and “Black Jazz” (315). Their conversation turns bitter, becoming a heated argument, and Hank storms out. Music, like nature, has the potential beauty, healing, and bringing people together, but is also connected to sorrow, tragedy, and conflict.
A hole in the wall between Lee’s bedroom and the former bedroom of his mother (and now Viv’s room) makes it possible to discretely see from one room into another. Shortly after Lee returns to Oregon and the Stamper house, he sits in his old room and is reminded of the hole by a beam of light that shines from Viv’s room, through the hole into his room. The beam of light through the “forgotten hole in [Lee’s] wall” symbolically connects Lee’s past and present (161). Lee recalls that as a ten-year old boy, he had peered through that hole to discover that his half-brother Hank and his mother Myra were having an affair. After he rediscovers the hole in adulthood, he sees Hank’s wife Viv undressing through the hole. Coming full circle, Hank later looks through the hole and sees Viv and Lee making love.
In strictly physical terms, the hole allows for the voyeuristic discovery of these secrets. Lee calls it his “eyepiece to the hard and horny facts of life” and even wonders to himself if Hank had “arranged for me to see the hole again” to taunt him (161). Later, Lee is gleeful to realize that Hank has caught him and Viv in the act of having sex.
The light through the hole illuminates the conflict between Hank and Lee. Lee notes the symbolic significance of the light when he first sees Viv, noting “that the girl—not the lamp behind her—was emitting the light” (225). As the light falls from Viv, through the hole, and onto Lee, the past trauma of his mother’s and Hanks affair connects to his return to Oregon in the present, and to the future he sees in hoping to get revenge on Hank by having an affair with Viv.
The Wakonda River is vitally important to the logging industry in Kesey’s novel, as it allows workers to easily transport the huge, unwieldy logs. Though it seems strange that the Stamper house is the only one located along the river’s banks, it is simply the only one that has survived: “[m]any of the settlers’ houses were lost,” collapsed “into the water as the river sucked away at the foundations” (4). The precariousness of living along a river prone to flooding stresses nature’s power.
The Stamper house is notable not only because it is the only one on the river’s banks, but also because it “protrudes out into the river on a peninsula of its own making” (5). Over the generations, the Stampers built a makeshift jetty out of logs, rocks, construction scrap, and other junk in order to keep the river from eroding the land under the house. Now “the house presents an impressive sight: a two-story monument of wood and obstinacy” that defies both erosion and the floods (5).
The house’s position is nevertheless precarious. At the end of novel, someone (the novel hints that it was members of the labor union known as the Wobblies or International Workers of the World) explodes the riverbank nearby, sweeping Stampers’ boathouse into the river. Lacking the support of the town for their strikebreaking and obstinacy, the Stampers are now vulnerable not only to the river but also to the angry violence of stymied strikers. The Stampers’ house, solitary and bold, symbolizes both defiance and instability.
Plus, gain access to 8,800+ more expert-written Study Guides.
Including features:
By Ken Kesey