Flowers for Algernon

The whole book is a series of "progress reports." The first one is riddled with misspellings and reads like a child wrote it. The author is Charlie Gordon, thirty-two, IQ 68, who sweeps floors at a bakery.

Charlie has been chosen for an experiment: brain surgery meant to raise intelligence. Before him, the surgery was tried on a white mouse named Algernon, who became astonishingly smart and always beats Charlie at the maze.

After the operation, the reports start to change. Fewer typos, longer sentences. Charlie reads, learns languages, argues with professors, and soon outthinks everyone around him. But for the first time he also understands things he'd missed. His coworkers at the bakery have been making fun of him all along; the "friends" he thought he had were laughing at him. He remembers his childhood, and how desperate his mother was about his being "slow."

The genius of the book is that the writing itself tells the story. Nobody needs to tell you Charlie is getting smarter. You can see it in the spelling and punctuation. Keyes got the idea while teaching, when a student asked him: if I get smart, will they put me back in a regular class?

(Mild spoiler warning: the story doesn't stop at "he gets smart." The writing in the reports will change again. Many readers say the last few pages are among the most heartbreaking endings they've ever read.)

Getting smarter didn't make Charlie happier. It made him lonely for the first time. Before, he was mocked without knowing it. Now he knows, and he can't un-know it.

Intelligence is no substitute for love. At the peak of his intelligence, Charlie discovers he has no idea how to get close to anyone. Brains without affection, he concludes, are worthless.

A person's dignity shouldn't depend on their IQ. Smart or not, Charlie is the same person, someone who just wants to be loved.

Read it if you believe "if I'm good enough, people will like me," or if you've ever been looked down on for not being quick enough or clever enough. Keep tissues nearby.

intelligence and education that hasn't been tempered by human affection isn't worth a damn.