Flowers for AlgernonFlowers for Algernon is an incredible read that I recommend to everyone. It’s the kind of book that sticks with you long after you’ve finished it. That said, there’s one aspect of it that didn’t sit quite right with me, but overall, this is a must-read. I finished it in just two or three days, and if I didn’t have school or other obligations, I’m sure I would’ve devoured it in one sitting.

This was my first time reading Flowers for Algernon, though because of its popularity, I felt like I already knew quite a bit about it before picking it up. The book is often classified as science fiction, but I think anyone who enjoys fiction in general will get something meaningful out of it. It’s not science fiction in the traditional sense—no spaceships or aliens here. Personally, I love those kinds of stories, but I know they’re not for everyone. Regardless, don’t let the genre label deter you.

What sets Flowers for Algernon apart is how grounded it feels, even while it explores the frontiers of science and technology. The best science fiction isn’t just about futuristic gadgets or far-off worlds—it’s about ideas. And this book is brimming with them.

The Story and Its Themes

Without getting into spoilers, the novel is told through journal entries—or “progress reports”—written by the protagonist, Charlie Gordon. These entries document a transformative time in Charlie’s life as he undergoes a groundbreaking procedure designed to enhance his intelligence.

Through Charlie’s eyes, the story explores what it means to be human. It dives into themes of self-discovery, emotion, morality, and intelligence, and how all of these traits shape who we are. It also touches on how we treat others, both human and non-human, and raises important questions about compassion, empathy, and respect.

What struck me most is how timeless this story feels. Originally published in 1959, its messages remain just as relevant today in 2025. I don’t see that changing.

The book also delves into the complexities of scientific research and advancement, topics I care deeply about and strongly advocate for. However, it doesn’t shy away from addressing the ethical dilemmas involved—particularly around animal and human testing. These are sensitive issues, but they’re handled with care and nuance. While the book doesn’t provide easy answers, it challenges readers to grapple with these questions, which is one of its greatest strengths.

My One Complaint

Now, onto my one gripe with the novel—and to discuss this, I’ll have to get into spoilers. If you haven’t read Flowers for Algernon, I strongly encourage you to stop here, read it, and then come back to this review. I’d love to hear your thoughts afterward.

Charlie undergoes a cutting-edge trial procedure that dramatically boosts his intelligence, and we get to witness his transformation through his progress reports. His spelling, vocabulary, and language evolve as his intelligence grows, which is a brilliant storytelling device. However, here’s my issue: even at the height of his transformation, his writing never truly feels genius.

Don’t get me wrong—Charlie accomplishes incredible things during this period. But while his progress reports improve significantly, they never reach a level that feels extraordinary. They remain entirely comprehensible and grounded, which feels inconsistent with the immense intellectual leaps he’s described as making.

I get that this is a novel, and it needs to remain accessible to readers. You could argue that Charlie writes in simpler terms for the benefit of the researchers, but even so, I would’ve loved to see moments in his writing that were so advanced or profound that they left me awestruck. Moments where you’d think, “Wow, I would never have thought of that!” Unfortunately, that never happened to me while reading this.

For comparison, I recently read Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang, which includes a short story called “Understand.” It has a similar premise: a protagonist undergoes a procedure that makes him hyper-intelligent. The way Chiang writes that story truly conveys the feeling of genius. The protagonist is so far beyond ordinary humans that he has to invent new concepts and solutions because no one else can even fathom what he’s capable of.

Now, to be fair, Understand leans much further into the science fiction realm and explores the idea of “superhumans” in a more extreme way. It’s a fascinating story and well worth reading if you haven’t already. But I feel it did a better job of portraying what artificial superhuman intelligence might look like.

Again, this is a minor critique of Flowers for Algernon. The novel isn’t trying to tell the same story as “Understand.” My issue is more of a nitpick: I just wish Charlie’s writing had better reflected his accomplishments and the struggles he faced being so far beyond others intellectually. For example, the book describes how he struggles with relationships because of his advanced intellect, but that never fully comes across in the style or complexity of his writing.

Of course, the heart of the story isn’t about showcasing Charlie’s genius—it’s about so much more than that. Still, this was something that stood out to me as a missed opportunity.

Final Thoughts

Despite this small complaint, Flowers for Algernon is an incredible book. It’s emotional, thought-provoking, and deeply human. It’s the kind of story that entertains you while challenging you to think about big ideas and your values.

If you haven’t read it yet, do yourself a favour and pick it up. And if you have, let me know if you agree with my thoughts—or if you saw the story differently.

Seriously, just read Flowers for Algernon. You won’t regret it.

is an incredible read that I recommend to everyone. It’s the kind of book that sticks with you long after you’ve finished it. That said, there’s one aspect of it that didn’t sit quite right with me, but overall, this is a must-read. I finished it in just two or three days, and if I didn’t have school or other obligations, I’m sure I would’ve devoured it in one sitting.

This was my first time reading Flowers for Algernon, though because of its popularity, I felt like I already knew quite a bit about it before picking it up. The book is often classified as science fiction, but I think anyone who enjoys fiction in general will get something meaningful out of it. It’s not science fiction in the traditional sense—no spaceships or aliens here. Personally, I love those kinds of stories, but I know they’re not for everyone. Regardless, don’t let the genre label deter you.

What sets Flowers for Algernon apart is how grounded it feels, even while it explores the frontiers of science and technology. The best science fiction isn’t just about futuristic gadgets or far-off worlds—it’s about ideas. And this book is brimming with them.

The Story and Its Themes

Without getting into spoilers, the novel is told through journal entries—or “progress reports”—written by the protagonist, Charlie Gordon. These entries document a transformative time in Charlie’s life as he undergoes a groundbreaking procedure designed to enhance his intelligence.

Through Charlie’s eyes, the story explores what it means to be human. It dives into themes of self-discovery, emotion, morality, and intelligence, and how all of these traits shape who we are. It also touches on how we treat others, both human and non-human, and raises important questions about compassion, empathy, and respect.

What struck me most is how timeless this story feels. Originally published in 1959, its messages remain just as relevant today in 2025. I don’t see that changing.

The book also delves into the complexities of scientific research and advancement, topics I care deeply about and strongly advocate for. However, it doesn’t shy away from addressing the ethical dilemmas involved—particularly around animal and human testing. These are sensitive issues, but they’re handled with care and nuance. While the book doesn’t provide easy answers, it challenges readers to grapple with these questions, which is one of its greatest strengths.

My One Complaint

Now, onto my one gripe with the novel—and to discuss this, I’ll have to get into spoilers. If you haven’t read Flowers for Algernon, I strongly encourage you to stop here, read it, and then come back to this review. I’d love to hear your thoughts afterward.

Charlie undergoes a cutting-edge trial procedure that dramatically boosts his intelligence, and we get to witness his transformation through his progress reports. His spelling, vocabulary, and language evolve as his intelligence grows, which is a brilliant storytelling device. However, here’s my issue: even at the height of his transformation, his writing never truly feels genius.

Don’t get me wrong—Charlie accomplishes incredible things during this period. But while his progress reports improve significantly, they never reach a level that feels extraordinary. They remain entirely comprehensible and grounded, which feels inconsistent with the immense intellectual leaps he’s described as making.

I get that this is a novel, and it needs to remain accessible to readers. You could argue that Charlie writes in simpler terms for the benefit of the researchers, but even so, I would’ve loved to see moments in his writing that were so advanced or profound that they left me awestruck. Moments where you’d think, “Wow, I would never have thought of that!” Unfortunately, that never happened to me while reading this.

For comparison, I recently read Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang, which includes a short story called “Understand.” It has a similar premise: a protagonist undergoes a procedure that makes him hyper-intelligent. The way Chiang writes that story truly conveys the feeling of genius. The protagonist is so far beyond ordinary humans that he has to invent new concepts and solutions because no one else can even fathom what he’s capable of.

Now, to be fair, Understand leans much further into the science fiction realm and explores the idea of “superhumans” in a more extreme way. It’s a fascinating story and well worth reading if you haven’t already. But I feel it did a better job of portraying what artificial superhuman intelligence might look like.

Again, this is a minor critique of Flowers for Algernon. The novel isn’t trying to tell the same story as “Understand.” My issue is more of a nitpick: I just wish Charlie’s writing had better reflected his accomplishments and the struggles he faced being so far beyond others intellectually. For example, the book describes how he struggles with relationships because of his advanced intellect, but that never fully comes across in the style or complexity of his writing.

Of course, the heart of the story isn’t about showcasing Charlie’s genius—it’s about so much more than that. Still, this was something that stood out to me as a missed opportunity.

Final Thoughts

Despite this small complaint, Flowers for Algernon is an incredible book. It’s emotional, thought-provoking, and deeply human. It’s the kind of story that entertains you while challenging you to think about big ideas and your values.

If you haven’t read it yet, do yourself a favour and pick it up. And if you have, let me know if you agree with my thoughts—or if you saw the story differently.

Seriously, just read Flowers for Algernon. You won’t regret it.