This isn’t a new book; on the contrary, it’s an old classic. I skipped class in high school to go and see the drama department’s matinee of Flowers for Algernon that they were putting on for the elementary school kids. (Why I couldn’t have paid the five bucks and seen it at night is still a mystery.)
My perspective now is surely different than it was then. Not only am I now an adult myself and better understand some of the nuances of adult relationships, I also have a child with a disability. While autism (which is what my son has) and mental retardation (which is what the hero of this book, Charlie Gordon, has) are two different animals, I still easily related some of the struggles between the two. The book, written in the late 50s, shows how society has changed in the way disabilities are looked at and also the way those who have disabilities are treated. Beyond that, though, is a great, tear-jerking story. It’s beautifully written, and one that, though I picked it off the library shelf on a whim, I will be culling Goodwill for to put on my own library shelf.
Wendy Archibald 