Showing posts with label Flowers for Algernon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flowers for Algernon. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Flowers for a Guinea Pig, again.

Strikingly original.

I've never read anything quite like it. Science Fiction that is totally believable, completely engrossing. Set in a world that I understand and can somehow relate to - a world that, unfortunately, seems just as real now as it would have 50 years ago when the novel was first published.

What works most for Flowers for Algernon, though, is that you really get into the protagonist's head. His name is Charlie. He was born a little slow - learning disabilities transferring to social disabilities. And in his older age he is used in an experiment to make him truly brilliant - one of the smartest men on the planet. And the world is not ready for him - he is too brilliant for them. Neither is he ready for the world - it is too unfamiliar to him.

The novel is written as a collection of progress reports that Charlie is expected to complete as documentation for his experiment. This approach really allows you to fall for Charlie; you care about his development, and the discoveries that he makes about how people have treated him throughout his life, and you sympathize with his frustrations as a genius. He never feels as though anybody is treating him as a human, but merely as an experiment - a guinea pig.

Indeed, his only real friendship is with a fellow Guinea Pig - a rat named Algernon. Algernon was treated with the same experiment as Charlie, and initially Algernon's intelligence is well beyond that of Charlie. It is quite interesting to see this connection to the other guinea pig - his only compatriot in the test tube.

What really works for Daniel Keyes in this book is the character. You care for Charlie more than you have cared for most other characters you have read about. Part of this is the personal nature of the writing structure - we are reading his most intimate, and sometimes inappropriate, feelings and ideas. And you watch him blossom into a dark and depressed flower incapable of trusting anybody that surrounds him, except for Algernon.

This book did two things for me that are quite rare. The first was that it made me angry. About a quarter of the way through the novel, Charlie begins to remember his past, and moments when his coworkers and his family treated him poorly. You hear these stories, and you are angry. Anger - a feeling I have not felt since reading Dave Eggers' What is the What.

The second was that it got me excited to read about Charlie. There was a point, about three quarters of the way through the novel, when I was driving home and I was thinking about Charlie. I was worried about him. I wanted him to be ok - I didn't want to witness his demise. What was happening was heartbreaking - what was bound to happen was heartbreaking.

A note about the writing style. This novel was originally written as a short story, and then expanded to include more characters and a prolonged story. You rarely get the sense that this transformation was a challenge for Keyes. The writing is mostly seamless, mostly believable. But it is a testament to the transformation that the English language was going through in the 1950s and 60s - this book does not feel contemporary even if the world that it produces can be mistaken as such.

June 24 - Today I went on a strange kind of anti-intellectual binge. If I had dared to, I would have gotten drunk, but after the experience with Fay, I knew it would be dangerous. So, instead, I went to Times Square, from movie house to movie house, immersing myself in westerns and horror movies - the way I used to. Each time, sitting through the picture, I would find myself whipped with guilt. I'd walk out in the middle of the picture and wander into another one. I told myself I was looking for something in the make-believe screen world that was missing from my new life.

Then, in a sudden intuition, right outside the Keno Amusement Center, I knew it wasn't the movies I wanted, but the audiences. I wanted to be with the people around me in he darkness.

The language is not flowery, it is not poetic. It is not stream of consciousness, or even a false steam of consciousness. It feels completely planned out - it is planned out and edited. Not a bad thing, but something I noticed. And it suits the character of the narrator and of the novel - it is both personal and impersonal. The language that a high academic may use to talk about themselves, no?

I made the comment in my last post that this would be a more valuable novel than Tortilla Flats in high school curriculum. I stand by that. Even without having read Tortilla Flats. It is a novel that I recommend to everybody. Captivating, though not perfect. Original, though not contemporary. A nice diversion, and a valid awareness-raising novel.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Flowers for a Guinea Pig

So I finished Atwood earlier this week in search of something different.

I thought that would be a challenge. I have a lot of books, but I perceive many of them to be relatively similar. I started reading covers to decide what to read - my thought process (abridged):

"They loafed and drank and loved and stole, and lived the brave life with innocence and outrageous disregard for scruples.." (Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck)... sounds familiar, like a novel you read in a high school english course (which is probably where I got this edition years ago). Maybe some other time.

"...traces the intersection of four damaged lives in an Italian villa at the end of World War II. Hana, the exhausted nurse; the maimed thief, Caravaggio; the wary sapper..." (The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje)... maybe not just yet. I loved what I last read of yours (which is supposedly your worst novel)... but something about that feels like I already know where it is going.

"...Like so many others, Lev is on his way... changing British Society at this very moment.... a singular man with a vivid outsider's vision... In his innocence, his courage and his ingenuity, he is perhaps Rose Tremain's contemporary version of Candide." (The Road Home by Rose Tremain) I love comparisons with iconic literary characters that I am not familiar with... but everything else seems so familiar. Listless. Plotless almost. Familiar.

"The true story of one family, caught between America's two biggest policy disasters; the war on terror and the response to Hurricane Katrina." (Zeitoun by Dave Eggers) Well reviewed. I like what I have read of the authors (even want to revisit it). Still though, it seems almost too topical. And we all know that topical literature is only really important when it is no longer topical... maybe not. I just might read this one...


And then I reached to the top of an old shelf, to books whose papers have not been ruffled in years. Hello recommendations and borrowings from grandmother - it has been so long since we have spoken. And that is how I discovered Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes.

"This fascinating tale of a daring human experiment has been described as 'a love triangle between two people,' 'a suspenseful, gripping story,' and 'a brilliant fantasy.' It is all these things. It is one of the most strikingly original and engrossing novels of our time!"

It was written in the 1950s. I didn't know what to expect. The cover told me nothing. I had heard nothing of it other than that it should be read. So I opened up my 45 year old edition and started reading the aged text on the yellow paper.

"progris riport 1 martch 3

Dr Strauss says I should rite down what I think and remembir and evrey thing that happins to me from now on. I dont no why but he sais its importint so they will see if they can use me. I hope they use me becaus Miss Kinnian says mabye they can make me smart."

I was intrigued. And read further. And further. I wasn't hooked by the writing, but I was intrigued by the story. And I figured out very quickly why it is that I had heard nothing about this novel's story - the plot reveals itself early on. Mostly. And it is difficult to explain part of it without giving the majority of the book away.

And I don't want to give anything away.

I just finished the novel though, and I am thoroughly impressed. One of the best works I've read? Not at all. But still a fantastic novel. That perhaps, just perhaps, deserves to be in high school curriculum far more than something like Tortilla Flats.

More on it next time. I want to go read some more War and Peace, and I need to get ready for my next book (oh, where to go?).