In Ken Kesey’s 1962 novel One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, one of the psychiatric patients on the ward alongside the two main characters is Dale Harding, a limp-wristed, dainty man who is apparently unable to satisfy his wife, and who is portrayed as a closeted homosexual. Harding is seen as the leader of the acute patients on the ward prior to the fateful arrival of R. P. McMurphy, and is often referred to for advice or knowledge by the newcomer throughout the novel.  While he does not actually accept his homosexuality by the denouement, he does not hide the shame which he feels, and his growing confidence is not led to suggest a “healing” of his homosexuality. In contrast to this, the character of Harding in the 1975 film adaptation of the novel is presented as masculine and short-tempered, while his difficulties with his wife are posed as the result of his impatience. Through the erasure of Harding’s homosexuality and its replacement with a model of hegemonic masculinity, the film negates one of the key revolutionary statements of Kesey’s novel: that homosexuality; even feminine, limp-wristed, shamefaced homosexuality, is not synonymous with powerlessness or weakness. Kesey demonstrates how society’s attitudes have reduced Harding to self-loathing, and presents this cultural stigmatisation as the issue, while Harding is only one of many men on a ward who grows alongside them in strength and confidence, without relinquishing his differences from them.

In the novel, Harding is introduced as the “leader” of the acute patients, due to his status as President of the Patient’s Council, (1962:26) but despite this dominant, assertive role he is described by Chief Bromden as a “flat, nervous man”. Nonetheless, Bromden’s rendition of Harding’s physical appearance and mannerisms is complimentary, even awe-inspired. He paints Harding as “too pretty to just be a guy on the street,” with “hands so long and dainty I think they carved each other out of soap, and sometimes they get loose and glide around in front of him free as two white birds” – this is not the derisive portrait of male femininity usually portrayed in novels of this era, as for example in The American Dream, (Albee 1960) where the primary male character is described by Coser as “sick, decrepit, impotent, and passive,” due to his constant emasculation (2010:32). However, while the narrative voice is positive towards Harding’s more feminine features, his mannerisms are portrayed as the tenets of shame and self-loathing: “He’s got wide, thin shoulders and he curves them in around his chest when he’s trying to hide inside himself… he notices [his hands] and traps them between his knees: it bothers him that he has pretty hands” (1962:26-27). The contrast between the positive presentation of Harding’s “pretty” appearance – particularly his hands – and his shame, is represented throughout the novel: “When he lets his hands and face move like they want to and doesn’t try to hold them back, they flow and gesture in a way that’s real too pretty to watch, but when he worries about them and tries to hold back he becomes a wild, jerky puppet doing a high-strung dance” (1962:77). This particular passage can be seen as a metaphor for the struggles of homosexuality in the ’60s, suggesting that homosexuality can be beautiful if embraced, but when it is marred by shame and secrecy it can be turned into something unseemly – although never completely suppressed. Thus, while Kesey’s novel seems sometimes to emphasise the negative elements of Harding’s own self-attitude, the underlying message in the text is overwhelmingly unprejudiced, and in fact openly condemns the society which has censured and disgraced Harding for his unfortunate sexuality. This condemnation is most strongly portrayed in Harding’s final monologue to McMurphy, where he also admits his homosexual leanings for the first time in the novel:

“I discovered at an early age that I was – shall we be kind and say different? It’s a better, more general word than the other one. I indulged in certain practices that our society regards as shameful. And I got sick. It wasn’t the practices, I don’t think, it was the feeling that the great, deadly, pointing forefinger of society was pointing at me – and the great voice of millions chanting, “Shame. Shame. Shame.” It’s society’s way of dealing with something different.” (1962:371)

Here, Kesey reveals his hand. While carefully avoiding any explicit mention of homosexuality, he creates strong implications, and yet refuses to align with what he appears to regard as the majority of the society who will comprise his readership. Harding’s “practices” are absolved of being what many conservative readers may have previously interpreted as the primary cause of his illness, and are instead presented as the innocent, persecuted excuse for his oppression. Meanwhile, the shame and self-loathing gleaned from society outside the institution fade throughout the novel as the other inmates refuse to conform to the expectations of Nurse Ratched, who is the ambassador for outside society within the institution. In this way, the oppression Nurse Ratched had previously managed to maintain can be overthrown, and Harding is able to leave the hospital free from shame, fully aware of the damage caused by society and of his own capability to overcome it.

In stark contrast to this sympathetic portrayal of effeminate homosexuality, the character of Harding in the film of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) is played by a heterosexual actor (William Redfield) who does not fulfil Bromden’s physical descriptions in the novel, and who does not impersonate the dainty nature of the original character’s mannerisms. Harding is constantly portrayed as loud, belligerent and antagonistic, in noticeable disparity from his character in the novel (1975: 34.48-35.20, 1.07.32-1.07.38). Furthermore, in the first group meeting, which initially appears to follow faithfully from the same scene in the novel, the original discussion of Harding’s possible homosexuality is erased completely in favour of an attempt to strongly portray the character as intellectually critical of his wife and of the other patients (1975: 17.50-20.30), while in the novel this was only slightly touched upon. When the other patients laugh at his high-register vocabulary, Harding retorts “what’re you tryin’ to say? You trying to say I’m queer? Ooh! Is that it? Little Mary-Anne? Little Marjorie Jane?… Is that it? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Is that your idea of communicating something to me? Is it? Well is it?” This highly confrontational speech is not only a demonstration of aggressive masculinity, but also conforms to traditional masculine homophobic discourse which constructs “women and gay men as the despised other” (Coates, 2003:69).

Moreover, his suggestion that a gay man is comparable to a woman, particularly a “little” woman, and the accompanying imitation of exaggerated femininity gives not only the homophobic impression that gay men are not “real” men, and are in fact women, but also that to be called feminine or indeed female is an insult. The other characters do nothing to challenge this suggestion, while the protagonist McMurphy laughs heartily at Harding’s tirade.

The masculinisation of the character of Harding in the film adaptation of Kesey’s novel suggests an inability in the film’s producers to portray a homosexual character in a leadership position, with a positive narrative and a final resolution which did not involve the demonisation of his homosexuality. Furthermore, by using this same character to display discourse of hegemonic masculinity and homophobic rhetoric, the creators of this film betray Kesey’s intentions and become a part of the oppressive society against which he was attempting quietly to fight. For gay or LGBTQ-friendly readers of Kesey’s book who then may have gone on to watch the film, Harding’s character is a severe disappointment, a regression from the novel’s modern take, and a damaging constraint on the enjoyment of an otherwise brilliant cinematic achievement.

References:

Albee, Edward. The American Dream and The Zoo Story: Two Plays by Edward Albee. New York: Plume Books, 1997.

Coates, J. (2003). Men talk. Malden, MA: Blackwell Pub.

Coser, S. (2010) The “American Dream” and the literature of the 1960s. SIGNS – Electronic Journal, 7(1) pp 20-40

Forman, M. (1975). One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. (film) USA: United Artists

Kesey, K. (1962). One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. USA: The Viking Press