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In the mid-1970s, I was movie-mad and for a few years made it a point to see every film nominated for any major Oscar. So of course I saw Cuckoo's Nest, which I hated. I believe a friend must have convinced me afterward that the book was better, so I dutifully read it. I had a paperback copy in my library until fairly recently, when I gave myself permission to purge the bookshelves of all the books I hated; it was one of the first to go.
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