Admiral Hornblower in the West Indies by C.S. Forester

The admirable admiral triumphs again in the penultimate installation of the Hornblower saga. I'll admit I approached this book with trepidation, unsure whether it could attain the level of the previous books, but, barring one minor flaw, I need not have feared. It was a complete success.

Horatio is patrolling the Caribbean, not unlike Commodore Norrington in Pirates of the Caribbean, cracking down on piracy and slave trading. He risks his "honour as a gentleman," but retains it with a fortunate coincidence. He and his secretary are kidnapped by pirates, and they have a delightfully touching scene reminiscent of Sam and Frodo's on the path to Mordor, incidentally what I consider to be the consummate scene of the trilogy.

Horatio and his secretary escape and destroy the pirates. Horatio's wife comes to accompany him home, for his commission is over. Just before they leave, a young man in the marine band refuses to play a note he believes is incorrect, objecting on artistic grounds. For that, he is sentenced to death. Herein lies the sole flaw of the book. For Barbara is distraught over the situation, and when she asks Horatio for money, he does not even suspect that it is to aid the young man's escape. The revelation of her motives serves as the denouement of the novel, but I found it anticlimactic. I had figured it out long before.

Nevertheless, the majority of the book is superb. On the return home, Horatio's ship is caught in a hurricane. In the despair of the moment, Barbara insists she never loved anyone but Horatio, putting to rest his self-doubt on account of her first husband. Horatio saves the ship and most of the crew, and they make it safely to land.

Horatio's final reconciliation with his wife is nice and happy, and his final satisfaction with her after years of philandering indecision is an exceedingly appropriate ending.

One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest was a truly tragic book. Stories of mental wards aren't typically happy, and this one did have bright spots, but it was altogether very sad. Chief Bromden, the narrator, tells the story of McMurphy, a man who gets himself admitted to an insane asylum to avoid a work camp. Through McMurphy's antics, it is revealed that the hospital is not designed to make the patients better. In fact, it often makes them much worse.

McMurphy draws many of his fellow inmates out of their antisocial neuroses. He arranges a fishing trip, which for some is their first outing in twenty years. He defies the controlling nurses, and, as retribution, is subjected to shock treatment and then a lobotomy. This surgery renders him a vegetable, and so Bromden smothers him out of compasssion.

The mercy killing at the end was fairly disturbing, but mostly understandable considering the men and their situation. Much of the inmates' inabilities to function stemmed from a sort of desexing, as Kesey repeatedly pointed out. They were forced to rescind any form of masculinity they may have retained. They were left men in name only, with no power or virility, unable to assert themselves and so unable to live sanely.

McMurphy served as a sort of sacrifice for these men, losing his life in an attempt to restore such to them. I found the story riveting, and I was in suspense until the end. It was excellent, but again, so tragic.