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Julie My Love, vaguely recalling that she enjoyed the book when she first encountered it in her own English class, decided recently to read it again. Still impressed by its style and moved by its content, she recommended that I give it try. I did, and now I suggest you check it out.
Dr Strauss says I shoud rite down what I think and remembir and evrey thing that happins to me from now on. I dont no why but he says 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 want to be smart. My name is Charlie Gordon I werk in Donners bakery where Mr Donner gives me 11 dollers a week and bred or cake if I want. I am 32 yeres old and next munth is my brithday. I tolld dr Strauss and perfesser Nemur I cant rite good but he says it dont matter he says I shud rite just like I talk and like I rite compushishens in Miss Kinnians class at the beekmin collidge center for retarted adults where I go to lern 3 times a week on my time off. Dr. Strauss says to rite a lot evrything I think and evrything that happins to me but I cant think anymor because I have nothing to rite so I will close for today. . . yrs truly Charlie Gordon. [p. 1]
The operation is a success, and the quality of Charlie’s writing improves dramatically as the book progresses. But his increasing mental clarity brings with it a growing moral confusion, as he realizes that, like Algernon the mouse, he is viewed more as an experiment than an individual. The relationship between the man and the mouse, as the book’s title hints, evolves into a significant aspect of the story’s emotional core.
The crowd surged out of the Grand Ballroom into the corridor, as Algernon, scampering along the maroon carpeted hallway, led them a merry chase. Under Louis XIV tables, around potted palms, up stairways, around corners, down stairways, into the main lobby, picking up other people as we went. Seeing them all running back and forth in the lobby, chasing a white mouse smarter than many of them, was the funniest thing that had happened in a long time.
Go ahead, laugh!” snorted Nemur, who nearly bumped into me, “but if we don’t find him, the whole experiment is in danger.”
I pretended to be looking for Algernon under a waste basket. “Do you know something?” I said. “You’ve made a mistake. And after today, maybe it just won’t matter at all.”
Seconds later, half a dozen women came screaming out of the powder room, skirts clutched frantically around their legs.
He’s in there,” someone yelled. But for a moment, the searching crowd was stayed by the handwriting on the wall − Ladies. I was the first to cross the invisible barrier and enter the sacred gates.
Algernon was perched on top of one of the washbasins, glaring at his reflection in the mirror.
“Come on,” I said. “We’ll get out of here together.” [pp. 163 − 164]
Charlie’s transition from simpleton to super-genius is dramatically captured in Keyes’ evolving writing style. As he reaches the peak of his intellectual abilities, we can look back to the beginning and appreciate just how far he has come.
I don’t pretend to understand the mystery of love, but this time it was more than sex, more than using a woman’s body. It was being lifted off the earth, outside fear and torment, being part of something greater than myself. I was lifted out of the dark cell of my own mind, to become part of someone else − just as I had experienced it that day on the couch in therapy. It was the first step outward to the universe − beyond the universe − because in it and with it we merged to recreate and perpetuate the human spirit. Expanding and bursting outward, and contracting and forming inward, it was the rhythm of being − of breathing, of heartbeat, of day and night − and the rhythm of our bodies set off an echo in my mind. It was the way it had been back there in that strange vision. The gray murk lifted from my mind, and through it the light pierced into my brain (how strange that light should blind!), and my body was absorbed back into a great sea of space, washed under in a strange baptism. My body shuddered with giving, and her body shuddered its acceptance. [pp. 293 − 294]
3 Comments
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Support Barack Obama
Truly a book everyone should read. Pass it on!
Nice!
I’ll pick it up.
Z - No need to pick it up - after Sam is done it goes to Jer then you can have it!
I love sharing books…