Daniel Keyes: Flowers for Algernon

Flowers for Algernon: A++
fiction

Following his doctor's instructions, engaging simpleton Charlie Gordon tells his own story in semi-literate "progris riports." He dimly wants to better himself, but with an IQ of 68 can't even beat the laboratory mouse Algernon at maze-solving:

"I dint feel bad because I watched Algernon and I lernd how to finish the amaze even if it takes me along time.

I dint know mice were so smart."

Algernon is extra-clever thanks to an experimental brain operation so far tried only on animals. Charlie eagerly volunteers as the first human subject. After frustrating delays and agonies of concentration, the effects begin to show and the reports steadily improve: "Punctuation, is? fun!"

But getting smarter brings cruel shocks, as Charlie realizes that his merry "friends" at the bakery where he sweeps the floor have all along been laughing at him, never with him. The IQ rise continues, taking him steadily past the human average to genius level and beyond, until he's as intellectually alone as the old, foolish Charlie ever was--and now painfully aware of it. Then, ominously, the smart mouse Algernon begins to deteriorate... (amazon)

Ever read a book that critiques the complexities of human nature in a subtle but beautiful manner that leaves you somewhat breathless?

Flowers for Algernon is a nationally-acclaimed novel. When it was written as a novella, it won the Hugo Award; the 1966 novel-length expansion won a Nebula. The big-screen adaptation won an Oscar, which led the way to a Broadway musical.

It is the diary of Charlie Gordon, a mentally retarded man who undergoes brain surgery and becomes a genius. You, along with Charlie, discover life-before-surgery and life-after-surgery; how difficult it is for Charlie to realize that all of the people he thought were his "friends" had secretly been laughing at the "dummy" for years, how he comes to realize people are corrupted and selfish, how he is treated as a subject of a tremendous science experiment; how he deals with the discovery of the opposite sex, and how he copes with being a genius after being dumb for so long.

It is heartwarming, powerful, and genuinely an A+ read. It's guaranteed to evoke the most basic of emotions out of you.

If it doesn't, you're heartless.

..okay, I'm joking, but really, read this! It's fabulous.

Linda Howard: Cry No More

Cry No More: A+
Milla Edge & James Diaz

You might not know this about me, but I am, in fact, a huge ass crybaby. I’m like a leaking faucet; it takes very little to get me started. As expected, I’m very emotional, and I love authors who can evoke emotions in me.

However, I find that this particular expectation is lost in a many romance novels. For one thing, it’s a given that romance novels must must must have a happily-ever-after. Therefore, when the hero or heroine falls sick near the end of the novel …who cares? I know that within a flip of a few pages, that the hero/heroine will become un-sick and everything will be peachy. Perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to become jaded with romance novels – it can get very mundane – and very formulaic.

If you can sympathetize with this, worry not! Cry No More is an intensely emotional and passionate read about a mother’s love. In fact, I find that the mother-child love is more explained than the normal hero-heroine love relationship.

Milla Edge is twenty-three, married of one year to a genius doctor, and is in Mexico with their newborn child. Then the unthinkable happens and her baby, Justin, is snatched from her arms. However, Milla refuses to give up and makes it her personal goal to find her child.

I was exasperated for the first half of this book, but I fear it is out of ignorance and naivety, more than anything. I’m not a mother and I’ve never had a child. I don’t know the love a mother has for a child – I just know that it is something intense and wholly consuming.

So, reading through Milla’s pain, her gritty determinance to find Justin, was something I understood but didn’t. The pain that she must have felt – I don’t know for sure, but I shallowly empathize. It must be a heartwrenching, soul-scarring pain and hurt. However, one question always stayed with me – when is it appropriate to move on? And is moving on synonymous with giving up?

Because Milla could have given up – and nobody would have faulted her for it. She looked for ten long years – gave up ten long years, grueled, grieved, and continuously thought of the could-haves and what-ifs. When is it enough to simply… stop?

Maybe never.

In understanding Milla’s pain, I know why she chose to keep fighting, yet a part of me wanted to rattle her – to shake her and tell her, life’s not fair. Move on with your life – rebuild it!

But really, who am I to say? And how can I so callously tell someone to move on regarding a situation that has to do with another person? Her child??

That was dilemma number one, and the most thought-provoking reaction/ question/ confusion…

The second question is a little harder to ask without giving the story away, but to say very vaguely (if you’re a spoiler-HATIST like me, skip the next paragraph please):

Is it ever all right to kill someone, even if it is done in the name of justice, of retribution? After all, there’s karma, right? But is it ever justified in taking someone’s life for even the most heinous crime (deaths of millions of people, child rape…)?

As for the relationship between Diaz and Milla – I can’t help but to wonder if there are males out there who are so cold and so… cold. Diaz is supposed to be an assassin, I understand, but from what I’ve heard, the personality/ heart of a sniper or an assassin is a huge dichotomy, in that the most kind-hearted person can have the succinct ability to kill with precision and without emotion.

Nevertheless, Diaz is practically an amphibian with cold blood running through him, who basically has no huge communication needs and with eyes that are so cold, it would, apparently, freeze your toes.

But the things he does for Milla when she is grieving… the love and affection he shows for her, and the clear love that he has for her (though unable to really verbalize until later) is so heartwarming and utterly charming. It’s like, he understood Milla – knew her better than she knew herself – and catered to her when she needed him most.

I’m totally up for that kind of love – the kind of love where the other person knows you inside-and-out, and can comfort you in your troubles, tickle your toes when you want to laugh, and one who will simply take care of you because… that’s what love does.

Boy, was I in for the shock of my life when after two hundred pages, Cry No More became an intensely intense read. And then, I wasn’t too shocked when I started to bawl my eyes out… and then continued to cry continuously the last thirty-something pages of the book. (Oh jeepers, I’m a dork.)

The ending is absolutely wonderful and so great, I think I might have actually sighed in content (while nastily blowing my nose and wiping tears away)

If you’re not afraid of thinking while reading – and feeling something other than “aw, that’s cuddly,” please give this a try.

A+ for emotion, writing skill, and characterization. Bravo, Ms. Howards!

Oh gosh, that was a long ass review. Sorry, I had a lot to say. But basically it all boils down to: read the damn book!