Flowers for Algernon: Book Review

I just finished reading Flowers for Algernon, by Daniel Keyes. This is an epistolary novel written about a retarded man; he receives an experimental surgery that increases his intellectual capacity. The story is a character study, exploring how the main character, Charlie Gordon, develops emotionally in response. He deals with the problem of increased awareness of how people treat him, alienation from others as he outpaces all those around him, sexual frustration, and troubling memories that come to mind.

I enjoyed the book, finding its devastating ending to be particularly hard-hitting—even terrifying.

Overall (No Spoilers)

This book was published all the way back in 1966. This fact alone is a fascinating detail, that makes me view it in an entirely different light. There were some funny quirks about the story, showing that it was a product of its time, like the legitimacy of Rorschach tests, psychanalysis, and other more subtle things that influence how the story proceeds, like the fact that we now know that memory and intelligence are not actually the same thing. None of this detracted from the story, itself. But it was interesting to look at the story from a step back and think about how its presentation might have changed.

I think my favorite aspect of the story is something I will reserve for the spoiler section. For now, it will suffice to say that how the story ended had a rather profound impact on me. It made me think about some of my own fears and what would have to happen to drive me into true despair.

Another aspect that I thought was a great service to the story was the epistolary structure. The whole novel is a series of progress reports written by Charlie, himself, as he talks about his developments and changes over time, including all his emotional troubles. And because this takes the form of progress reports written by Charlie, himself, the writing is also reflecting his increasing intellectual capacity and the knowledge he gains downstream. This is a cool effect that helps communicate the effects of what is happening.

I liked the character of Charlie Gordon. After reading some reviews of the book online, I saw the occasional negative review talk about how he was unlikeable. Now, I am a firm believer that likeability is irrelevant, and often detrimental, to writing good characters. I like characters that have frustrating flaws, but who behave in believable ways given who they are and what their experiences are. Watching Charlie become fixated on this idea of being undervalued by others when he was retarded, only to be treated better later on, was an obvious development; and the instances of hypocrisy that resulted, where he also believed he was better for being intelligent, only makes the character more human and more relatable.

Charlie is a man who undergoes a completely lifechanging operation, something that changes him utterly (ship of theseus, anyone?). The severe emotional toll this takes on him is very well communicated, and Keyes does not squander any of this to ham-fistedly make him more likeable.

One negative thing comes to mind. It really isn't a major issue. Only that I thought that Charlie's intellectual progress was rather contrived. Apparently, all the progress he makes is within a half a year, or something, which is ridiculous. This is just more of the pop culture portrayals of intelligence as some magical ability that ordinary people don't understand because they are not as smart. It's cartoonish, but I did not let this really ruin the story for me.

Other than that, there really weren't any parts of the story that I did not like. It was a very straight forward character study that played its purpose very well.

Conclusion

Overall, I loved the book. It was basically flawless. I will give it a 9/10.

Strides (Spoilers)

I mentioned above that my favorite part of the story is the ending. As the novel progresses, the characters begin to notice that Algernon, the mouse who received a similar operation, is beginning to show erratic behavior and rapidly deteriorates in intellectual performance. This forewarns what will happen to Charlie. Charlie is the one who takes up research into the subject, and he eventually finds the fundamental flaw with the experiment. His greatest contribution to humanity is discovering the effect that predicts his own intellectual deterioration.

And, with stunning speed, Charlie slowly begins to forget things, and become confused by the complex subjects he used to indulge in. He tries to read his paper and he is unable to understand it, and even expresses shock and disbelief that he had written it himself. And then he can't read books as effectively. He loses his ability to understand themes in stories, and then he loses his ability to read altogether. His life starts to return to the way he was before, but all the pity shoveled towards him eventually convinces him to go to a facility for retarded people. The story ends with him requesting that flowers be placed on Algernon's grave.

This was . . . very disturbing. And I think it hit me rather hard, because of my own values. Now, I don't mean to brag, but I consider myself something of an intellectual (I used to watch Jimmy Neutron as a kid). As such, I value what intelligence I do have, and I find purpose in my own life thinking about philosophy and reading books to increase my general knowledge of things. Because of this, the feeling the book gives as Charlie rapidly increases in ability and learns a wide range of different subjects is empowering. This, juxtaposed with the regression at the end of the novel, is nothing short of my worst nightmare.

Alzheimer's has always been a disturbing thought to me, and I've long concluded that the one thing that could drive me to suicide would be getting that disease. And the depiction of Charlie feels very similar. It is easy to imagine, in the abstract, being forced to change who you are on a fundamental level, but this was an example that really hit home for me.

This is not just my own personal connection to the story, though that is obviously relevant. I also thought that Keyes did an extraordinary job communicating the experience on page. Charlie's depression and aggressive emotional rejection of what was happening was clearly communicated, as he ripped his books apart and then refused to clean up the resulting mess. As his reports bluntly talked about his regression, as the prose regressed with it, I really believed it was happening.

A major theme that can be pulled from this is the lack of control that we have over ourselves and the world around us. I grew up in an environment that emphasized agency. When I was younger, I subscribed to the idea that I could achieve almost anything by taking control of the variables in my life and making it work for me. In a way, I was an undeveloped libertarian; a libertarian in sentiment, if not my politics. My views have changed over time—the reality of systemic forces in society, the constraints of biology, and the constraints of nature—are enough to convince me that there are some things that we cannot control, but this theme is something that still hits me hard, and there is even a variant of it in the novel that I am writing right now.

This novel captures this theme better than any story I can remember reading. If you want to experience the terror of not being able to control your nature and what is happening to you, read this book.

Either that, or you can go through a midlife crisis.

Conclusion

Overall, I loved the book. It was basically flawless. I will give it a 9/10.