Flowers for Algernon

by Daniel Keyes

Now I understand one of the important reasons for going to college and getting an education is to learn that the things you’ve believed in all your life aren’t true, and that nothing is what it appears to be.

language is sometimes a barrier instead of a pathway. Ironic to find myself on the other side of the intellectual fence.

I foolishly thought I could learn everything—all the knowledge in the world. Now I hope only to be able to know of its existence, and to understand one grain of it. Is there time?

It might be said that Charlie Gordon did not really exist before this experiment. . . .

Dr. Strauss and Dr. Nemur are a joke. They’re caricatures of evil scientists. Who would say this? I found the whole “I’m not a guinea pig, I’m a human” message repetitive and unnecessary.

I want you to keep a copy of the report so that you can show people that your son turned out to be more than a dummy after all.”

What kind of closure is this? His mom was abusive during his entire childhood BECAUSE of his intellectual disability. After he underwent the operation, it makes sense he still wants his mom’s approval. But there is no development in Charlie or in his mom. It’s gross that the mom finally accepts him and loves him BECAUSE he became smart artificially, because he finally became someone else entirely. There is no mention of the abuse, shitty parenting or conditional love; no regret or remorse from her behavior.

I knew it would happen. I always said it would happen someday. I tried everything I could. You were too young to remember, but I tried. I told them all that you’d go to college and become a professional man and make your mark in the world. They laughed, but I told them.”

I don’t like this ‘mom forgiveness’ closure because it contradicts the novel’s message. The mom finally showers Charlie with all the love and appreciation that she denied him his entire life because he no longer has the intellectual disability. She is happy because her prayers have been answered — she prayed he would become someone he is not. So now everything’s okay… as if pre-op Charlie didn’t deserve the same love and affection?

She was no longer the spoiled brat of my memories. She had grown up, had become warm and sympathetic and affectionate.

Ummm… No. At no point does his sister reflect these qualities. On the contrary, she is selfish. She’s only happy to see Charlie now that he no longer has the intellectual disability and can help her financially and emotionally. She said it’s like finding out her brother “is a hero, or a movie star” post-op. Had he not received the surgery, she wouldn’t be this happy to see him — just like his mom — because they considered him a shameful burden. Again, it’s contradictory for this “happy ending” closure with his family to be conditional upon his IQ.

There was no way to stop the sands of knowledge from slipping through the hourglass of my mind.

I probably won’t even visit you there. Once you’re in Warren I’ll do my best to forget you. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But until you go, there’s no reason for either of us to be alone.”

WHAT?! How dare she?! So basically Alice is saying she will abandon Charlie as soon as his intellectual disability comes back! This is not love. Alice knew Charlie before the surgery. What a weird choice the author made: Why write Charlie as a character who loves someone who only loves him WITHOUT his intellectual disability? Why make Charlie’s love interest love him conditionally — like his mother and sister do? If the novel’s message is to love, accept, and respect people with intellectual disability, this is contradictory. And this exchange happened right before the cringiest sex scene ever. The writing portrays these moments as “romantic” like the author is telling the reader that I’m supposed to feel happy they got a chance to be together one last time, but I feel the complete opposite.

There was something about you that made us respect you—yes, even as you were. You had something I had never seen in a retarded person before.”

The language didn’t age well. I know it was published in the 60s and, back then, this book probably helped spread the message that everyone deserves to be treated with respect. But reading this in 2024, the message gets lost among the many occasions the author calls Charlie “retard” “retarded” “retardate” “moron” “idiot” “dumb.” It left a bad taste in my mouth.