John Williams

William Stoner enters the University of Missouri at nineteen to study agriculture. A seminar on English literature changes his life, and he never returns to work on his father's farm. Stoner becomes a teacher. He marries the wrong woman. His life is quiet, and after his death his colleagues remember him rarely.

Yet with truthfulness, compassion and intense power, this novel uncovers a story of universal value. Stoner tells of the conflicts, defeats and victories of the human race that pass unrecorded by history, and reclaims the significance of an individual life. A reading experience like no other, itself a paean to the power of literature, it is a novel to be savoured.

--back cover

Stoner

William Stoner is born at the end of the nineteenth century into a dirt-poor Missouri farming family. Sent to the state university to study agronomy, he instead falls in love with English literature and embraces a scholar’s life, so different from the hardscrabble existence he has known. And yet as the years pass, Stoner encounters a succession of disappointments: marriage into a “proper” family estranges him from his parents; his career is stymied; his wife and daughter turn coldly away from him; a transforming experience of new love ends under threat of scandal. Driven ever deeper within himself, Stoner rediscovers the stoic silence of his forebears and confronts an essential solitude.

John Williams’s luminous and deeply moving novel is a work of quiet perfection. William Stoner emerges from it not only as an archetypal American, but as an unlikely existential hero, standing, like a figure in a painting by Edward Hopper, in stark relief against an unforgiving world.
--back cover

Aksara

Like all lovers, they spoke much of themselves, as if they might thereby understand the world which made them possible.

The life they had together was one that neither of them had really imagined. They grew from passion to lust to a deep sensuality that renewed itself from moment to moment.

We both would become something else, something other than ourselves. We would be—nothing.

It's sting how it hits me right in the core, as overthinker myself, is basically my brain's default setting when I'm left alone with my thoughts. I agree with his devastating conclusion, the more you use your think, the more you arrive at cold truth that the system revolves into empty nothingness. It's an ironic trap, our drive for knowledge proves its lack of intrinsic meaning. :/

He found himself wondering if his life were worth the living; if it had ever been. [...]  He took a grim and ironic pleasure from the possibility that what little learning he had managed to acquire had led him to this knowledge: that in the long run all things, even the learning that let him know this, were futile and empty, and at last diminished into a nothingness they did not alter.

He felt at times that he was a kind of vegetable, and he longed for something—even pain—to pierce him, to bring him alive.

"You think there's something here, something to find. Well, in the world you'd learn soon enough. You, too, are cut out for failure; not that you'd fight the world. You'd let it chew you up and spit you out, and you'd lie there wondering what was wrong. Because you'd always expect the world to be something it wasn't, something it had no wish to be. The weevil in the cotton, the worm in the beanstalk, the borer in the corn. You couldn't face them, and you couldn't fight them, because you're too weak, and you're too strong. And you have no place to go in the world."

"You must remember what you are and what you have chosen to become, and the significance of what you are doing. There are wars and defeats and victories of the human race that are not military and that are not recorded in the annals of history. Remember that while you're trying to decide what to do.”

Jiya

It was as if the last tie between himself and the old life had been cut.

he’s so so real and such a valid feat and sadness to hold 

Sometimes, immersed in his books, there would come to him the awareness of all that he did not know, of all that he had not read; and the serenity for which So he laboured was shattered as he realised the little time he had in life to read so much, to learn what he had to know.  

He conceived himself changing in that future, but he saw the future itself as the instrument of change rather than its object. 

But before William Stoner the future lay bright and certain and unchanging. He saw it, not as a flux of event and change and potentiality, but as a territory abhead that awaited his exploration. He saw it as the great University library, to which new wings might be built, to which new books might be added and from which old ones might be withdrawn, while its true nature remained essentially essentially unchanged. 

His voice was flat and dry and it came through barely moving lips without expression of intonation; but his long thin fingers moved with grace and persuasion, as if giving to the words a shape that his voice could not. 

Conor Murphy

They talked late into the night, as if they were old friends. And Stoner came to realize that she was, as she had said, almost happy with her despair; she would live her days out quietly, drinking a little more, year by year, numbing herself against the nothingness her life had become. He was glad she had that, at least; he was grateful that she could drink. 

They buried his father in a small plot on the outskirts of Booneville, and William returned to the farm with his mother. That night he could not sleep. He dressed and walked into the feld that his father had worked year after year, to the end that he now had found. He tried to remember his father, but the face that he had known in his youth would not come to him. He knelt in the field and took a dry clod of earth in his hand. He broke it and watched the grains, dark in the moonlight, crumble and flow through his fingers. He brushed his hand on his trouser leg and got up and went back to the house. He did not sleep; he lay on the bed and looked out the single window until the dawn came, until there were no shadows upon the land, until it stretched gray and barren and infinite before him.

The party was like many another. Conversation began desultorily, gathered a swift but feeble energy, and trailed irrelevantly into other conversations; laughter was quick and nervous, and it burst like tiny explosives in a continuous but unrelated barrage all over the room; and the members of the party flowed casually from one place to another, as if quietly occupying shifting positions of strategy. A few of them, like spies, wandered through the house, led by either Edith or William, and commented upon the superiority of such older houses as this over the new, flimsier structures going up here and there on the outskirts of town.

He had never got in the habit of introspection, and he found the task of searching his motives a difficult and slightly distasteful one; he felt that he had little to offer to himself and that there was little within him which he could find. 

He saw the future in the institution to which he had committed himself and which he so imperfectly understood; he conceived himself changing in that future, but he saw the future itself as the instrument of change rather than its object.

Evan

Though he seldom thought of his early years on the Booneville farm, there was always near his consciousness the blood knowledge of his inheritance, given him by forefathers whose lives were obscure and hard and stoical and whose common ethic was to present to an oppressive world faces that were expressionless and hard and bleak. 

In his forty-third year William Stoner learned what others, much younger, had learned before him: that the person one loves at first is not the person one loves at last, and that love is not an end but a process through which one person attempts to know another.

He had come to that moment in his age when there occurred to him, with increasing in tensity, a question of such overwhelming simplicity that he had no means to face it. He found himself wondering if his life were worth the living; if it had ever been.

Sloane said, "Are you looking forward to the day when you emerge from these cloistered walls into what some call the world?"

Stoner grinned through his embarrassment. "No, sir."

Erwin Lemuel Oliva

“He learned that he was not remarkable, that he would not be remembered. Yet it was this very fact that allowed him, finally, to be free.”

kemi

The flesh is strong, he thought; stronger than we imagine. It wants always to go on.

Jessiel Diez

Sometimes, immersed in his books, there would come to him the awareness of all that he did not know, of all that he had not read; and the serenity for which he labored was shattered as he realized the little time he had in life to read so much, to learn what he had to know.

I read Stoner because someone recommended it to me, they said it might be slow, but I didn't find it boring at all, I was actually hooked the whole way through. ;) 

The book starts by explicitly stating that William Stoner wasn't special. He was just a human being who lived a full life, full of love, failure, struggle and passion. It's such a basic life, but John Williams writes it so beautifully, far more melancholic than I ever imagined. 

The best way to describe William Stoner is 'stoic.' He had this deep love for literature and teaching, but he was almost too calm, so passive that he missed out on things he could have achieved. He had so much potential. I found myself a lot of the scenes, like how love can have such a massive impact on your life, or that specific connection when two intellectuals fall for each other just because they're on the same wavelength. 

It's impossible to convey how beautiful the book is. John Williams take this ordinary life and renders it with a dignity so sharp it's haunting. The real beauty isn't in what Stoner achieved, but the deep passion he held for literature and the struggle to endure as life takes away those closest to him. The steady toll of loss, from the deaths of his parents, his teacher and his close friend, marks the passage of time more than any career success.

The intense reflection on mortality, the heartbreaking realization of human experiences, the greatest loves and disappointments, are often lived and lost in complete obscurity, but, here it forces us to confront our own end. 

I read Stoner because someone recommended it to me, they said it might be slow, but I didn't find it boring at all, I was actually hooked the whole way through. ;) 

The book starts by explicitly stating that William Stoner wasn't special. He was just a human being who lived a full life, full of love, failure, struggle and passion. It's such a basic life, but John Williams writes it so beautifully, far more melancholic than I ever imagined. 

The best way to describe William Stoner is 'stoic.' He had this deep love for literature and teaching, but he was almost too calm, so passive that he missed out on things he could have achieved. He had so much potential. I found myself a lot of the scenes, like how love can have such a massive impact on your life, or that specific connection when two intellectuals fall for each other just because they're on the same wavelength. 

It's impossible to convey how beautiful the book is. John Williams take this ordinary life and renders it with a dignity so sharp it's haunting. The real beauty isn't in what Stoner achieved, but the deep passion he held for literature and the struggle to endure as life takes away those closest to him. The steady toll of loss, from the deaths of his parents, his teacher and his close friend, marks the passage of time more than any career success.

The intense reflection on mortality, the heartbreaking realization of human experiences, the greatest loves and disappointments, are often lived and lost in complete obscurity, but, here it forces us to confront our own end. 

Beautifully written — a hero’s journey of the ordinary man. Unfulfilled, faced with life’s challenges, “he had done what he could.”

Michael M

Read the greatest rediscovered classic of recent years 'A beautiful, sad, utterly convincing account of an entire life' Ian McEwan William Stoner enters the University of Missouri at nineteen to study agriculture. A seminar on English literature changes his life, and he never returns to work on his father's farm. Stoner becomes a teacher. He marries the wrong woman. His life is quiet, and after his death, his colleagues remember him rarely. Yet with truthfulness, compassion and intense power, this novel uncovers a story of universal value - of the conflicts, defeats and victories of the human race that pass unrecorded by history - and in doing so reclaims the significance of an individual life. 'A brilliant, beautiful, inexorably sad, wise and elegant novel' Nick Hornby ‘A terrific novel of echoing sadness’ Julian Barnes

A Novel

Nica

Happiness is but a fleeting sensation in the story of Stoner 

Luca Colaluce

Words cannot do this masterpiece justice!

Emilia

So melancholic and beautiful, leaving me with a fondness for Stoners character that I haven’t felt for a long time. 

I really feel for William Stoner. My life is "nothing" like his and yet I found his journey of defeats to resonate with me. I'm not even quite sure of what I am meant to take away from this book, but I know I am changed from it.

Stoicism finally makes an overt mention late into the book; Stoner realizes that entire generations of mankind walked this planet quietly taking in life's miseries and remaining stern-faced despite the hardships. Stoner does just this, yet while he also calls himself poor at introspection, I believe this is a self-deception; many times he makes connections from his own experiences to those of others. His ability to think deeply about his life with a sense of truth and honesty is something we should all strive for. His sense of justice even makes an appearance and he sticks up for what is right. He really is an ideal stoic.

But he is not an ideal man. Stoner's life is far more defeats than victories and one cannot help but watch as many of these defeats are self-inflicted. Honestly, he's so pitiable that he horseshoes back into almost irredeemable; the man's early choices and reluctance to enact change on them doom him for decades and anyone with a brain, Stoner included, can see it happening. It's painful, but I think it's important.

I loved "Stoner". I don't really know how to recommend this book considering how miserable and sad it can be and how this makes for a really tough pitch; but with that said, I think if you're a fan of reading, you have to read this book.

A sad and quietly harrowing story.

I really feel for William Stoner. My life is "nothing" like his and yet I found his journey of defeats to resonate with me. I'm not even quite sure of what I am meant to take away from this book, but I know I am changed from it.

Stoicism finally makes an overt mention late into the book; Stoner realizes that entire generations of mankind walked this planet quietly taking in life's miseries and remaining stern-faced despite the hardships. Stoner does just this, yet while he also calls himself poor at introspection, I believe this is a self-deception; many times he makes connections from his own experiences to those of others. His ability to think deeply about his life with a sense of truth and honesty is something we should all strive for. His sense of justice even makes an appearance and he sticks up for what is right. He really is an ideal stoic.

But he is not an ideal man. Stoner's life is far more defeats than victories and one cannot help but watch as many of these defeats are self-inflicted. Honestly, he's so pitiable that he horseshoes back into almost irredeemable; the man's early choices and reluctance to enact change on them doom him for decades and anyone with a brain, Stoner included, can see it happening. It's painful, but I think it's important.

  

I loved "Stoner". I don't really know how to recommend this book considering how miserable and sad it can be and how this makes for a really tough pitch; but with that said, I think if you're a fan of reading, you have to read this book.

Stoner was one hell of a ride and truly, one of the best books I’ve ever read. There is not much interesting going on, but it’s an excellently told narrative of the monotonous, “boring” life of William Stoner. This is the kind of book that makes you see parts of yourself in him, your life slipping by but you don’t fully realize it until it’s too late, makes you comtemplate whether mediocrity and ordinariness is a blessing or a curse, are you at peace by it, or are you a victim of it? Leaves you with a great deal of self reflection, not a book you easily forget after a few months.

April M

a seemingly impossible novel: yes, i found myself entranced by it, but at points, i stopped to wonder why i care, only to just continue anyway.

pacing was excellent, not once did i think that a scene overstayed its welcome or did i want to listen in more.

anyway, this novel is just about right in its ambition – not too wide, and not too insular. if a perfect shower temperature was a book, this would be it

the mundanity of life seems to sweep the protagonist along as it goes. he first is a student, without planning, one day becomes a tenured literature professor. first a single man, then finds marriage and fatherhood thrust upon him. he finds himself content, then sickness befalls him. he does not quite go out without a fight, and his life serves as a reminder of how quickly time passes and you grow old. dont let life pass you by...

really enjoyed the portrait of edith, his wife, who has more agency than william but who nonetheless life binds to her fate. from young, she leaves home an eager girl, itching to experience life away from a domineering mother, only to become a mother who irreparably changes her daughter's life not unlike how she changes  her own through brash decision-making. there is a certain cruelty here, although if i were to take a charitable reading, she just never dealt with her own repressed traumas, and by pattern-matching and taking her daughter's life into her own hands, there was a return of the repressed. her self-declared war on her "boring" husband is also so amusing to me, like ohhhhh so this is what undersimulated women did with life in the past, before they were able to channel that energy into being girlbosses. in a way, edith's story is an alternative to gillian flynn's gone girl

in the correspondences published between his publisher and himself, they shared the view that they didnt see commercial potential in the book – i am so amused with how wrong they are, it has morphed into a cult classic in the internet age, far beyond what they couldve imagined, although it is a pity that they both did not live to witness its success

Ghee

so much life in 290 pages..

a seemingly impossible novel: yes, i found myself entranced by it, but at points, i stopped to wonder why i care, only to just continue anyway.

pacing was excellent, not once did i think that a scene overstayed its welcome or did i want to listen in more.

anyway, this novel is just about right in its ambition – not too wide, and not too insular. if a perfect shower temperature was a book, this would be it

🚨 SPOILERS 🚨

the mundanity of life seems to sweep the protagonist along as it goes. he first is a student, without planning, one day becomes a tenured literature professor. first a single man, then finds marriage and fatherhood thrust upon him. he finds himself content, then sickness befalls him. he does not quite go out without a fight, and his life serves as a reminder of how quickly time passes and you grow old. dont let life pass you by...

really enjoyed the portrait of edith, his wife, who has more agency than william but who nonetheless life binds to her fate. from young, she leaves home an eager girl, itching to experience life away from a domineering mother, only to become a mother who irreparably changes her daughter's life not unlike how she changes  her own through brash decision-making. there is a certain cruelty here, although if i were to take a charitable reading, she just never dealt with her own repressed traumas, and by pattern-matching and taking her daughter's life into her own hands, there was a return of the repressed. her self-declared war on her "boring" husband is also so amusing to me, like ohhhhh so this is what undersimulated women did with life in the past, before they were able to channel that energy into being girlbosses. in a way, edith's story is an alternative to gillian flynn's gone girl

in the correspondences published between his publisher and himself, they shared the view that they didnt see commercial potential in the book – i am so amused with how wrong they are, it has morphed into a cult classic in the internet age, far beyond what they couldve imagined, although it is a pity that they both did not live to witness its success

Here’s an even more personal, poetic, and 

 version, with a touch of emotional resonance and reflection:

 by John Williams (narrated by Robin Field) is not a story you read—it’s a story that reads 

. It sneaks up quietly, wrapping itself around your heart with its unassuming power. William Stoner is an ordinary man, a son of farmers who discovers literature and never lets it go. His life is a slow unraveling: a loveless marriage, a career full of slights and betrayals, and love that arrives too late, slipping through his fingers like rain.

, his silent acceptance of life’s cruelties. He never fights back, never demands more than what life hands him. And yet, there’s something heartbreakingly beautiful in how he holds on. He teaches because it’s what gives his life meaning. He loves because it’s what keeps him alive, even if love, like everything else, is fleeting.

There’s a line in the novel that stayed with me: 

I’ve met men like Stoner. Maybe we all have—fathers who quietly carried the weight of the world on their shoulders, lovers who let go because they believed it was the right thing to do, teachers who never saw the fruits of their labor. Their lives are not filled with applause or accolades. But in their endurance, there’s dignity.

Robin Field’s narration aches with unspoken emotion. His voice lingers in the silences, letting the weight of each word sink in. Listening to this felt like hearing an old friend tell you a story they’ve never shared before—a story of quiet heartbreak and redemption.

 is a meditation on what it means to live a life that will be forgotten. But for those of us who’ve known how it feels to endure without reward, it is unforgettable. This is a book for the weary souls who dream in silence, who carry their battles without fanfare, who find meaning in small things—in a book, in a fleeting touch, in a quiet goodbye.

To read Stoner is to be reminded that even the smallest lives are vast, and in their quietness, they roar.

Here’s an even more personal, poetic, and hugot-filled version, with a touch of emotional resonance and reflection:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Stoner by John Williams (narrated by Robin Field) is not a story you read—it’s a story that reads you. It sneaks up quietly, wrapping itself around your heart with its unassuming power. William Stoner is an ordinary man, a son of farmers who discovers literature and never lets it go. His life is a slow unraveling: a loveless marriage, a career full of slights and betrayals, and love that arrives too late, slipping through his fingers like rain.

Stoner’s greatest flaw is pagpaparaya, his silent acceptance of life’s cruelties. He never fights back, never demands more than what life hands him. And yet, there’s something heartbreakingly beautiful in how he holds on. He teaches because it’s what gives his life meaning. He loves because it’s what keeps him alive, even if love, like everything else, is fleeting.

There’s a line in the novel that stayed with me: “He learned that he was not remarkable, that he would not be remembered. Yet it was this very fact that allowed him, finally, to be free.”

I’ve met men like Stoner. Maybe we all have—fathers who quietly carried the weight of the world on their shoulders, lovers who let go because they believed it was the right thing to do, teachers who never saw the fruits of their labor. Their lives are not filled with applause or accolades. But in their endurance, there’s dignity.

Robin Field’s narration aches with unspoken emotion. His voice lingers in the silences, letting the weight of each word sink in. Listening to this felt like hearing an old friend tell you a story they’ve never shared before—a story of quiet heartbreak and redemption.

Stoner is a meditation on what it means to live a life that will be forgotten. But for those of us who’ve known how it feels to endure without reward, it is unforgettable. This is a book for the weary souls who dream in silence, who carry their battles without fanfare, who find meaning in small things—in a book, in a fleeting touch, in a quiet goodbye.

To read Stoner is to be reminded that even the smallest lives are vast, and in their quietness, they roar.

I went into 'Stoner' with high expectations, as several people had told me it was a great book and one they truly loved. Unfortunately, I struggled to connect with the story and the characters, which made the reading experience feel underwhelming.

I'm not unused to slow-paced books, but I don't think it was the right time for me to read this one. While I could understand Stoner's character to some extent, the story felt like it dragged, and I found it difficult to stay engaged.

That said, I think 'Stoner' might be worth revisiting at a different time in my life. I may give it another try in the future, as I think there is a chance I could appreciate it more with a different perspective. For now, though, it didn't resonate with me the way I hoped.

Patricia

I went into 'Stoner' with high expectations, as several people had told me it was a great book and one they truly loved. Unfortunately, I struggled to connect with the story and the characters, which made the reading experience feel underwhelming.

I'm not unused to slow-paced books, but I don't think it was the right time for me to read this one. While I could understand Stoner's character to some extent, the story felt like it dragged, and I found it difficult to stay engaged.

That said, I think 'Stoner' might be worth revisiting at a different time in my life. I may give it another try in the future, as I think there is a chance I could appreciate it more with a different perspective. For now, though, it didn't resonate with me the way I hoped.

was reading this book while watching/listening to moya mawhinney's latest youtube video and the combination of the soundtrack + the writing made me pity stoner's life and vow to make some changes to my own life

_linia_

a boring retelling of a man’s monotonous academic and personal life. reminds me of when you go through the motions and suddenly you’re a little older than you were some time ago with nothing exceptional to say about what you’ve done with your wasted time. 

love my nothing burgers! i’m always so captivated. this book was perfect at what it set out to do. 

rachel

a boring retelling of a man’s monotonous academic and personal life. reminds me of when you go through the motions and suddenly you’re a little older than you were some time ago with nothing exceptional to say about what you’ve done with your wasted time. 

love my nothing burgers! i’m always so captivated. this book was perfect at what it set out to do. 

The literary equivalent of a glass of water. Not the most strongly flavoured or fizzy or intoxicating, but thirst-quenchingly pure in ways nothing else can be. 

Luke Pearce

Kévin-Lâm Quesnel 

Drew Nerbas

Really thought provoking a moving, however a little boring at time. Definitely not an easy read mentally.

Chris Dailey

Precise and plain prose endear the reader to life of a simple man who finds his version of the American dream. Born dirt poor (literally) William Stoner ends up in the halls of Academia teaching English to mainly disinterested pupils while navigating university politics as well as his own familial ones. The sum is greater than the parts here, with themes of family, education, sensuality, passion, and work along with a narrative of the rise of America in the first half of the 20th century. The synopsis sounds banal, but the straightforward writing excels at catching the intimacy and devastation of the characters.

Ainsley Jeffery

I am immensely drawn to the passive character of William Stoner, but I found myself plagued by a bittersweet melancholy that he let life happen to him without making any effort to pursue life as he craved it. The relationships and life Stoner lived made me uncomfortable and sad. It’s easy to feel happiness from a book, but to feel truly sad is a hard task to accomplish crafting the sympathy one can find through a written work.

James Wattie

Everything everyone says about this book is true. It’s boring. It’s mundane. But it’s an addicting read. The equivalent of a drive in the country you don’t want to end.

picked up at a random cause of the goofy name, will trust my intuition more often. Ordinary, depressing but beautiful, man with integrity and do things right by the book only to be wronged by circumstances 99% of our lives mine included, sad glimpse at the end of the tunnel fr

mimi nguyen

a truly inspiring story of a very normal, not so greater than life individual. Nothing about the story, or the characters is extraordinary. Nothing in its existence actually stands out. Some may find it underwhelming at times. But never before has a story made me feel more human. This is one of those stories you remember long after the last page has been turned. The acceptance of what you have been handed in life and everything it entails, all of it truly makes the story of William Stoner an absolution of your own blue existence.

diya

Louis Norton

Made me think of an Andrew Wyeth painting… loved…

Oof. This one snuck up on me. It's mostly the story of an unexceptional life, but it's also about the things that transcend the mundane (loving people, books, etc.). It's effortlessly and deeply emotional. It will stick with me. Williams is a favorite.

Stoner

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