For the first time in a long time I ran out of things to read. Or perhaps I should say that I forgot the remains of my reading list, and was stuck trying to think of what to read. Whilst browsing the Kindle store, I spotted Flowers for Algernon, and instantly an alarm bell went off in my head. I was sure I had previously expressed an interest in reading it? Wasn’t it supposed to be emotionally devastating? Sounds like my kind of book, so I dove straight in.
Originally written in the late 50’s as a short story, Flowers for Algernon follows the life of Charlie Gordon in a series of progress reports that he’s writing to record the outcome of a revolutionary new surgery that unlocks his capacity for learning. Over the course of the book he goes from a simple man with an IQ in the double digits into the smartest person on Earth.
What really struck me early on in the book is the use of language to convey Charlie’s mental state, and how incredibly strong the character’s voice is. In the early progress reports, the spelling is all wrong, there’s little to no punctuation and fundamentally the language is very simple. As the story evolves, the language evolves with it. First the spelling improves, then Charlie starts using punctuation and before you realise it Charlie’s vocabulary drastically changes, and his entire voice is different, impressively reflecting the changes he’s undergoing.
As his intelligence evolves, and he learns more and more, Charlie explores his place in society, first reflecting on his treatment before the operation. His new-found awareness is stark, and seeing him come to terms with his mistreatment at the hands of those he considered his friends and family almost made me want to stop reading. It takes a strong look at the way mentally disabled people are treated, and hits you in the face with it. All from the perspective from someone who, just a handful of pages before, was the unaware victim.
The book is sometimes brutal, sometimes eye-opening, but generally a fascinating and thoughtful read. It’s not a long read either, so worth knocking out in a weekend. But be forewarned: everyone who says this book is emotionally devastating is right. It is a rollercoaster of anger, frustration, hopefulness, and sadness.
Would I recommend it to other people? Definitely. Would I read it again? No, but only because the ending reached into my chest, gripped my cold heart, and tore it into shreds.