I knew that when I started writing my blog, I wanted to write about books that I remembered loving from my childhood.  I sat down and wrote out a list of every title that I remember having a significant impact, good or bad, on me.  When I saw my daughter was reading Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes, I thought, “Bingo! That’s what I’ll write about this week!”.  But middle school was a long time ago, and all I really remembered is that I loved the mouse, Algernon, and that the ending was really sad so I had to get the book and reread it to figure out why this book made my list.

Woah, Nelly!  Did you read this book in middle school?  I don’t remember Charlie repeatedly getting drunk, I don’t remember an affair with his neighbor, and definitely don’t remember anything about an adulterous pregnant woman flashing Charlie in her attempt to seduce him.  Slight blush as I think about my daughter reading this.

Aside from all of that, I did remember why this was such a meaningful book for me.  On a less meaningful note, when I was in middle school I loved mice.  I raised them as pets.  So, I felt a connection with the main mouse character, Algernon.  On a more meaningful note, the story of a mentally challenged man given the opportunity to obtain a genius level IQ through an experimental surgery and the challenges he faced before and after the surgery moved me.  Flowers for Algernon makes you think.

The story is told entirely through Charlie’s progress reports that he gives to the scientists.  We see his development, and his awareness of changing circumstances, in his notes.  It’s exciting at first to see the improvement in his spelling and grammar. 

But as Charlie gains awareness of his changing situation, he understands that the people he thought were his friends weren’t and that the people around him didn’t necessarily see him as a person like them.  He also comes to realize that people don’t like the “new” him because he makes THEM feel stupid; that they liked him better when he was retarded. 

Once he realizes the experiment failed and he is regressing, it is sad to that he still understands what is happening and how people view him.

After my re-read and trip down memory lane, I asked my daughter what she thought of the book.  I was pleasantly surprised to discover that her class read the short story rather than the entire book.  After perusing her copy, I think maybe I only read the short-story as well; no sex, no alcohol, all story, just like I remember.  Sad, meaningful, and a hard mirror to look into.

I don’t remember any of the discussions we had in class about the book, but I’m glad that my daughter is reading it now.  The book deals with the mistreatment of the mentally handicapped.  Charlie struggles with the idea that the people he thought were his friends actually enjoyed making fun of him, and then struggles with feeling frustrated with those who aren’t as intelligent as he is after the surgery.  The book makes you feel angry at the people that made fun of Charlie, and at the same time makes you realize that you probably have laughed along with a group at least once in your life.

Back when I was growing up, we used the words “retard” and “retarded” all the time- no big deal.  At my daughter’s school there is a campaign to, “Spread the word to end the word.”  I love this and I love the discussions her class had about inclusivity.  Flowers for Algernon makes you think about how you treat people, all people. While my daughter didn’t love the short story the way I did, she and I had a good discussion about it, I enjoyed re-reading it, and I had a nice trip down memory lane unsuccessfully trying to find pictures for this post.