Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I almost suggested this book as a community read for a college. Then I was thinking, waitaminute, isn’t the lesson of this book that being smarter only makes you less happy because then you realize just how dumb you are? Isn’t it better to go through life a dumdum that’s SO dumb he’s not even aware how dumb he is? Wouldn’t this be the EXACT wrong book for college students to read, one that would suggest they should turn and run as fast as possible lest they get smart and realize how miserable they are?
It’s kind of like, you can go see The National in concert, and maybe those fans are having a blast, but I kinda think they’re having way less fun than the people who are going to see KISS.
Which isn’t to say that KISS fans are dumb. It’s to say that dumb fun is a lot more fun than sophisticated fun. Pizza is more fun than scallops. This sort of thing.
Also, as a note, I’ve seen The National in concert, and I’m here to tell you those fans are NOT having a blast. They are looking all around them to see who is looking at them. Hand to god. Standing there, it was like when you’re on an airplane and a kid is in front of you and keeps looking backwards over the seat. I’m at this concert, and every asshole 7 inches in front of me is turning around, looking off this way and that. I don’t know who these people were looking for, but I would think they could easily spot them. They were ALL wearing what looked like expensive eyewear.
As another note, I had a medium good time, but then I also kind of had a fight with my girlfriend at the time. I can’t remember why, but I remember enjoying listening to the National on the way home and enjoying that more because I didn’t care about the fight anymore. Which seems like a profoundly stupid way for the night to go, but there you have it, more fun to listen to a CD in the car on the way home from a concert because I was, at that moment, carefree.
But maybe when you’re really stupid you’re not carefree, you just care about stupider things?
I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it anymore. I can’t really quantify the worries of someone super stupid or super smart. I just know that being somewhere in the middle doesn’t seem to lead to a carefree life.
Also, fuck mazes. Seriously.