Flowers for Algernon

"If your smart you can have lots of frends to talk to and you never get lonley by yourself all the time." - Charlie

I came across this marvelous gem of a book in my college library and, intrigued by the subject matter, I decided to borrow it and took it home with me. And that was perhaps the best decision I had made that day. Daniel Keyes' tale of human efforts to change nature is a very poignant one, even more so than Wells' Island of Dr Moreau, in my opinion. It's a science fiction, one of my favourite genre, so I may be a little biased.

The eponymous Algernon is a lab rat that has undergone an experiment to enhance its intelligence by artificial means, ie. surgery, instead of intellectual training. The experiment proved to be a success, and Algernon begins to show signs of increased intelligence. The scientists then decided to extrapolate the success to human subject and Charlie, an adult with a very low IQ of 68, is selected to undergo the surgery. The book deals with Charlie's experience before the surgery, after it, and what he goes through when the effects of the surgery begin to diminish and he regresses back to the way he was before the surgery.

The reader is allowed access to Charlie's innermost thoughts and feelings by compiling Charlie's progress reports for the duration of the experiment. When the story starts, Charlie's writing is unmistakably flawed, like the writing of a six-year-old. What I was most amazed by when I read this book is how I could gradually sense Charlie's transformation from an innocent simpleton to this complicated man with above-average IQ, and subsequently to a cruel and depressed person who is often troubled by too much thinking. It's a powerful narration of a person's descent to complete unhappiness, and by the time I was almost through with the book, I couldn't help but to feel a little afraid of extraordinary cleverness (which does not help when you're a final year student in college).

Charlie's story is powerful, one that forces me to think about what it means to be comfortable in our own skin. In this modern world, I get the feeling that we as a generation have conceived for ourselves this skewed definition of justice and fairness. Now, when we think of fairness, we tend think of equal portions for everyone. When a person is born with less, we are quick to say that it is unfair. I've done that before. When I looked at a physically-handicapped, I couldn't help but to feel sorry, because I felt that he was unfairly born with that handicap.

But Flowers for Algernon makes me rethink that notion. Surely, in a universe as complex as ours, there is a balance in creation, a balance so well-crafted that it is beyond our grasp, most of the time. What one person lacks in one field he has in abundance in another. Charlie, when he was a simpleton, was happy, and that, in itself is a blessing that many intelligent people are cursed without. And yet, the society we live in, with its idolatry of material gains and conquests, would have us believe that there are things more important than internal calm and peace, when in fact those things are but means to what we all unknowingly strive for, happiness. And it's wonderful that sometimes, it takes a fiction to teach us all about what it means to be happy in our own skin.

Highly recommended. Happy new year everyone : )