'Flowers of Algernon' and 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime'

Flowers of Algernon can be compared to Mark Haddon's book A Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime.

Both these books are written from the point of view of a disabled male. Charlie narrates his story - transitioning from someone with a low IQ and going through a transformation with surgery - his IQ increased to genius level. Eventually, the experiment fails as his IQ drops again.

Christopher - the protagonist in Mark Haddon's book - is a boy with Asperger's autism. His experience of life is narrated in first person and gives the reader insight into the perceptions (and imperceptions) of autism.

I loved both books - they both cleverly illustrate the difficulties of the disabled in society. Both writers have talented and intuitive mechanisms to allow the reader to get inside the heads of these two sad people. Charley's narrative as he progresses through increasing intellectual awareness is fascinating. He gains insight into his disability as his IQ rises, and with that awareness he gains insight into his condition and becomes distressed. He also experiences a massive increase in his social stressors as his genius intellect alienates him from his previous social structures.

Christopher, however, remains oblivious to his disability and emotional unconnectedness. He is also a genius on several right brained levels, but cannot connect to others on an emotional level. His disability is static and his experiences through the book do not change his outlook. His simplistic interpretations (and misinterpretations) of social interactions is very cleverly portrayed.

These stories are heart-breakers. They both resonated with me - especially when I think about my anxieties as a parent when my children were little. Both my children were very late talkers and walkers. My son did not talk at all until he was three - the horror of imagining diagnoses related to this was frightful.

I think the biggest message must be that happiness is not related to intelligence - in fact I fear it may even be inversely related.

I've not read Flowers of Algernon though I have enjoyed Mark Haddon's book. I can certainly agree that happiness is not related to intelligence. I would be less certain of an inverse relationship. Certainly Christopher isn't portrayed as that happy that often. How consistent is Charlie's portrayal? Christophers I found to be very good up until the last third of the book where sometimes you thought, he just wouldn't have done/said that.

Just adding a touchstone for Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes.

Flowers For Algernon is one of the saddest books I've ever read. Watching the movie version was even more emotionally devastating. There was audible sobbing in the theatre and I recall staggering into the harsh glare of the parking lot, tears streaming down my face.

Speaking of Asperger's Syndrome, one of the attorneys on the TV series Boston Legal suffers from it.

Asperger's victims usually have one of the higher levels of functioning. I think that the pianist Glenn Gould suffered from this type of autism, and many 'savants' have the problem. The task of trying to capture this in a first person narrative is daunting - I do wonder if Mark Haddon has had a relative or someone close to him with the disorder.
I think that if I had to pick books - I would chose the Flowers for Algeron over Mark Haddon's book - mainly for the sheer emotional impact of Charley's experience.

I am trying to recall other books which are based on similar themes - most of them are nonfiction and based on mental disease such as A Beautiful Mind - a biography of John Nash, by Sylvia Nasar This book was made into a movie - starting Russell Crowe - quite well done.

*Possible Spoiler*

I think what is so devastating about Flowers for Algernon is that Charley goes full circle and experiences the full spectrum of intellectual understanding, only to return to his original state. That's the emotional sledgehammer.

Alternatively, the beauty of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime is the absolute consistancy of Christopher's perception of his world, and his place in it. From my experience of those with asperger's syndrome, this was very accurate. It's a routine, automated way of life.

Both wonderful books.

Thanks for an intriguing comparison, Karen.

Curious Incident has been recommended to me before. It's interesting that the emotional impact of Flowers, at least at the close, is more on the reader than on Charley. To someone of normal or high intelligence, it's devastating to think that we could lose it. But Charley was much happier in his beginning and ending state. I'm not certain how far we should trust the novelist on that.

But another comparison - a film this time, though I think it was taken from a book, and I'm afraid the name escapes me (hope I'm not suffering Charley's fate) - might be the one about Iris Murdoch succumbing to Alzheimer's. It was terrible for her when she first realized she was slipping, and for her husband the whole time, but the last scene shows her childlike happiness with such simple things as sunlight coming through a window. Of course, Alzheimer's doesn't affect everyone that way, but a local writer tells a story about her mother slipping away but remaining sweet and positive through the whole experience - when her husband came in her room once and asked if she could remember who he was, she thought a moment and identified him as Santa Claus.

Another good comparison, Margaret.

The book you are referring to - Elegy for Iris - by her husband John Bayley was published a few years back - so details are sketchy. However, I remember his descriptions of Iris as she moved from an eccentric, intelligent, gentle and erudite personality, into a violent, irritable and empty shell of a person. I don't remember that she was sweet or positive at the end. Maybe the movie interpreted it differently. I imagine the book is better, but it left me feeling strangely annoyed at the writer.

I was interested in the memoir because I love Murdoch's writing, yet the book was not great. It seems as though Bayley needed to work through his gradual loss and bereavement, through to the end of her life. I imagine the memoir had a cathartic effect and helped him to do so. I was almost angry at him for showing Iris in her degraded and unhappy final years, when you consider her many years of brilliance as a professor and writer. However, I'm sure it would be a useful resource for people in similar situations.

Another non-fiction book that may be more comparable to Charley's fate would be Awakenings by Oliver Sacks- also made into a movie (I think it starred Robin Williams). Again, the book is much preferable and shows the miraculous 'awakening' of patients struck by a strange neurological disorder. Yet, the same fate awaits them as Charley. The medication becomes ineffective and the patients returm to their moribund state. Several patients realize their fate and the emotional impact of this knowledge is comparable to Charley's experience. The amazing thing about this wonderfully written book, is that it is true.

John Bayley actually milked the golden cow a few times.

#8 if you think Bayley shows Murdoch in a bad light, don't read any of the biographies!

What makes Flowers for Algernon very effective is that Charley does understand his situation. His boosted intelligence means that he recognises when the drugs start to fail.
(A clever variation of this theme is a Simpsons episode when it is revealed that Homer's stupidity is due to a crayon being stuck in his brain. The crayon is removed, and Homer becomes intelligence, only to find that modern society is so dumb that he is completely out of place, so he gets the crayon replaced).

Wow, I don't think I've seen that Simpson's episode (not something I say often, I'm afraid...).

Although it's not written from the point of view of the disabled person, I think another apt comparison for this thread is John Steinbeck's classic Of Mice and Men, for its heartbreaking portrayal of the difference between harsh "reality" and Lennie's gentle-yet-dangerous perception of himself and the world, as well as of George's attempts to bridge the gap between the two worlds. I haven't read Mark Haddon, but I heard an interesting Fresh Air interview with him about the writing of his novel, and he talked a lot about the difficulty of creating empathy between the reader and the protagonist when the protagonist doesn't feel empathy himself. Lennie has almost the opposite problem - he feels drawn to the small and gentle, but doesn't understand the difference in his own physical strength.

Another related plotline that comes to mind is Joseph Conrad's The Secret Agent, wherein a young disabled man's extreme emotional opposition to violence is used, paradoxically, to manipulate him into perpetrating a bombing.

#5 karenwardill: Mark Haddon actually worked with autistic children for a living prior to writing the novel.

My wife works in an administrative setting at a children's mental health agency and many of the children they see have Asperger's. The children seem like little adults, they are very serious and very literal.

Examples: You know how some clocks with Roman numerals on them use IIII for 4 instead of IV? One of the Asperger's kids insisted that the clock was wrong, that it should be IV.

Another: if the appointment is for say, 4pm, the child will wait until exactly 4pm before letting the receptionist know he is there.

My brother-in-law (18 years old) is a non-verbal autistic and it is fascinating to see how his mind works, especially his attachment to inanimate objects (his best friend is an extension cord).

Having read both Flowers for Algernon and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, I think the comparison is apt, but as stated previously, Flowers is more heart-wrenching because Charly gets to experience life without his disability.

A book I've been meaning to read, which also features a child narrator, however one who is not disabled, is The Dead Fathers Club. It's a modern day retelling of Hamlet through the eyes of an 11 year old boy - boy's father dies, boy sees father's ghost, ghost says boy's uncle killed him because he wants to hook up with boy's mom, etc. I also recently enjoyed The Book of Lost Things. There's just something about experiencing the world through the eyes of a child (or adult with a childlike sense of wonder and intelligence).

#10
I have just finished reading The Secret Agent, and I just loved this book.

Conrad seems to have a very bleak view of human nature. However, the disabled boy you mention, who is an unwitting accomplice to the bombing (and actually ends up dying as he trips carrying the bomb), was not aware of his role. I may be wrong about this, or it may just not be outlined as to how much he knew. I took him to be an innocent, trusting and compassionate bystander who was exploited by his brother-in-law, and involved in terrorism by default. It adds the dimension of exploitation of the weak/disabled, which we can perhaps see with Charley a bit at the beginning of the book when he works in the bakery. It also reflects their inability to read social innuendo - to take actions and words at face value - as we see with Christopher and
Charley.

By the end of the book, the disabled boy was the only character in the entire novel that you felt had moral substance. His naivety and goodness were strongly contrasted with the other characters. His actions, such as not being able to ride in the carriage for fear that the horses were overburdened, displayed a level of compassion and consideration that all other characters lacked. The other characters displayed major character flaws and deficits, or were to eventually became corrupted by their situations and choices.

This was a really amazing read by a truly great author. Perhaps someone could think of comparison books to The Secret Agent, that deals with anarchy and terrorism and the corruptibility of human nature. I am glad you brought it up in this thread.

#9

That Simpson episode sounds hilarious. The social satire in that show can be right on the mark.

Another book that you could compare, using that idea, is Louis Bernieres book Captain Corelli's Mandolin, where the man realized that his deafness is caused by ear wax. He removes it, but then has to replace it when the reality of his nagging wife hits home.

Just another example of the impact of change in perception - whether it be IQ or hearing - and the consequences of adapting to the change.

If I remember correctly, there was a short story by C. S. Lewis about a blind man who recovered his sight and ends up killing himself because he can't handle it. Does anyone recall this story (or am I mixing up two or three different ones?)?

It's been a long time since I read Flowers for Algernon but I read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time last year.

#9 Jargonner

I would not pick up anything else by John Bayley - but are you referring to biographies that he wrote, or other biographies of Iris Murdoch or what? I would quite like to read a 'good biography' about Iris.

I do resent this 'voyeurism' and gabbing about famous relatives that we see so much in popular fiction - amd I just cannot bear the 'tell all the dirt' books on best sellers lists. One person I can think of that gets a very hard time of it is Ted Hughes in conjunction with Sylvia Plath. It is very difficult to separate fact from fiction in these unfortunate situations.

Thanks, Karen, for coming up with the title and author of the book about Iris Murdoch. The film seems to have changed the emphasis rather dramatically. It did show how difficult she became to live with as her mind failed, but the final image of her (played by Judy Dench) dancing happily in the sunlight from the windows was so striking that it dominates my memory of the film. I've read some of Oliver Sacks' articles, which are great - he writes extraordinarily well for a scientific person. It may be that because he is a professional and doesn't have to live with his patients, and also because he is an expert and is interested in how their minds work, he is able to be more compassionate than someone whose spouse starts turning into a person he wouldn't have married if he had met her in her impaired state.

It's great to know that Mark Haddon knew what he was writing about. I've noticed that LT reviews of Curious Incident mostly fall into two categories: people who are amazed by how perfectly he captures the boy's inner world and people convinced the portrayal is totally inaccurate.

The Secret Agent sounds good. Masterpiece Theatre did a serial of it a few years ago which was okay, but a little hard to follow. The disabled stepson did not come across as a major character, so I would probably like the novel better. I love the detail about him refusing to get into a carriage so as not to overburden the horses.

The disabled brother/stepson character is pretty central in the book both for himself and also for his importance to his sister Winnie, who is pathologically devoted to him. Karen, I agree that he is an innocent - sort of - except that his stepfather convinces him that by placing this bomb he'll be helping to thwart the people who abuse their power through violence, like the man who whips the horse. So it's complicated...he definitely knows that he's going to be doing SOMETHING important, because his manner toward his sister changes in the days leading up to the attack. But he's certainly horribly manipulated, via his empathy toward society's victims, and his knowledge of the planned attack is inaccurate and incomplete.

I actually kind of like Winnie...when I read this novel (in a class) everyone else felt as you did, that nobody but the dead brother has any moral fiber. But I think I might act as she did in the same situation. She devotes herself to this horribly unattractive and slovenly man because she thinks he can provide security for her brother, and then in an act of criminal negligence and cowardice, he convinces the boy to blow up a building, and the boy dies. For me it would be less the actual death, as the way that the stepfather betrayed his stepson's trust and took advantage of his empathic nature, that would really drive me over the edge.

I agree, Emily, that Winnie is a diificult and ambiguous character in the book The Secret Agent. I initially thought of her as self-sacrificing and devoted - marrying to provide security for her disabled brother. This was especially true when you consider the portrayal of her husband, Mr Verloc, as a truly unlikaeble and unattractive personality. However, I reminded myself that it was the Victorian era and the tendency to marry for security was pretty high on the list.

I was also annoyed at her for the implicit trust and blindness to her husband's activities - what he was doing with all his time. She takes passivity in a relationship to an annoying degree. I also did not like her manipulation and attachment to Ossipon after she murdered her husband.

In the end, it was the indifference with which everyone treated each other that made me angry. She paid the ultimate price, her desperation leading to her suicide.

I thought the descriptive paragraphs where Winnie demonstrates her grief at the death of her brother, as well as the anxieties as she decides how to proceed and she attaches herself to Ossipon, to be just pure genius.

It will be a long time before I find another book as totally entralling as this one.

Although I highly enjoyed both, I prefer Flowers to Curious Incident because the protagonist in the former simply was more real. I understand that autistic people are detached, but the book made me feel uncomfortably detached --- perhaps a sign that it succeeded in doing what it was trying to do (portray autism, that is) but I didn't quite like the feeling.

Welcome, heina, and thanks for joining us!

I haven't read Curious Incident, but it has been recommended to me, so I am going to try to get around to it one of these days. Perhaps it is easier for "regular folks" to identify with a person with a low IQ than with an autistic person. Emotions may be much more central to who we are than intelligence; and of course we all have some intelligence if we are up and walking around.

I just re-read the original post, and see that Asperger's syndrome is a type of autism. In another group (I forget which one now; Art is Life, maybe) someone remarked that people with Asperger's syndrome have a hard time relating to fiction. Perhaps that has a partial reverse aspect to it, too - fiction may be somewhat diminished if the point-of-view character through whom we experience the story has no emotions?

#19 Good to hear your opinion.

I thought the impact of these two books was very different. Flowers was a far more emotional read. There was a rising suspense and anxiety with the increasing intelligence of the character. You felt intense sympathy for him as he gained insight and understanding into his condition. Losing himself to mental deficiency again was one tragedy, the other was his altered perception of himself as he gained intellect. It was a heartbreaking page-turner for me.

Curious Incident was a different type of read for me. It cleverly got into the mind of the autistic - the emotional flatness, the lack of empathy, the disconnection. It was exactly this emotional disinterest that made the portrayal so clever. The book garnered sympathy in its very disconnectivity with others.

They were both great reads - their dissimilarities in portrayal of emotion making them totally different. I don't think it is a matter of identification with intelligence. I think it is the marked lack of emotional connectivity with the autistic character that makes Curious Incident a less understandable and maybe less engaging read, as readers struggle to identify with this.