Dear Zhuzhu,

Recently, my work has started to slow down. I really love this grounded feeling of focusing intensely to finish tasks and then leisurely sending emails. Today is Friday, and we’ll be seeing each other soon. Just thinking about it makes my heart play Like Sunday, Like Rain uncontrollably—haha, I’ve been completely obsessed with this song lately.

I want to share with you a book I just finished: Flowers for Algernon. By the end, I was sobbing uncontrollably, secretly shedding “little pearls” again.

The protagonist, Charlie Gordon, is a man with an intellectual disability. He is kind-hearted, diligent at work, and eager to become smarter, but due to his congenital condition, he faces constant discrimination. One day, he is selected to participate in a scientific experiment. The experiment successfully enhanced the intelligence of a white mouse named Algernon, and now Charlie is the human subject, undergoing brain surgery to boost his intellect. After the surgery, Charlie’s IQ skyrockets. He attends university, studies, and becomes a knowledgeable genius. But as his mind awakens, he begins to recall lost familial love from his childhood, the mockery and exclusion from his so-called “friends,” and the complexities of human nature in modern society. He realizes that even after becoming smarter, the things he thought he would gain start to crumble. To the experimenters, he is merely a successful test subject, not a person deserving of respect, care, or acceptance.

Later, Algernon’s intelligence suddenly declines, and he dies. Through his research, Charlie discovers that the intelligence enhancement is only temporary, inevitably followed by decline and death. Charlie faces the agony of a countdown to his end, slowly approaching death.

After finishing the book, I began pondering some questions.

What is a person?

I remember that night when you asked me, “What is a person?” At the time, I answered from a biological perspective, but your answer was, “A person is the sum of social relationships.” Throughout the book, after Charlie gains high intelligence, he repeats over and over, “I am a person. I was a person even before the surgery.” Whether now or in the past, what we pursue as “personhood” is no longer just about using tools, thinking, or walking upright. It carries a strong social dimension—we crave recognition, care, and fulfillment. But was Charlie, with his intellectual disability, not a person before? He was kind, sincere, hardworking, self-sufficient, and persistent in learning. In my heart, he already surpassed many so-called “normal” people.

Does enhanced intelligence make one a person?

I don’t think so. If someone’s intelligence is heightened but they lack emotions, they’re no different from a cold machine. The book says, “Without the tempering of human emotions, intelligence and education are utterly worthless.” The measure of a person shouldn’t rely solely on scientific metrics. Extraordinary intelligence doesn’t grant someone a radiant soul. As independent individuals within social relationships, learning helps us cultivate better personalities. And the bonds we form with others allow us to better understand ourselves and the world.

If you were Charlie, would you undergo the surgery? (What about you, Zhuzhu?)

I think I would. Even if it meant facing the pain of intellectual decline and death like he did, I’d still choose it. Looking at Charlie’s life, his “moment of brilliance” was fleeting, but it was largely fulfilling. After his intelligence improved, he acquired vast knowledge, mastered multiple languages, and conducted independent research. When he learned his intelligence would decline, he returned to the home he had lost and regained warmth from his family. He found love and realized it wasn’t just about physical intimacy. He went back to the bakery where he once worked and found true friends. Those around him, upon learning of his journey, came to respect his courage and pursuit, and Charlie ultimately earned recognition as a person. If I were destined to live a stable but ignorant life in darkness, but had even a sliver of a chance to grasp the light, I’d choose that path without hesitation, just like Charlie.

Zhuzhu, I think whether we’re in darkness or light, or whether others are in darkness or light, we must always strive for the world and the love we originally envisioned. In that world, we treat every life as equal and worthy of respect, never mocking others or flaunting our arrogance.

The book opens with a quote from Plato’s Republic:

“Anyone with common sense remembers that the eyes can be confused in two ways and from two causes: coming from light into darkness or from darkness into light. The same applies to the mind’s eye. When someone sees a soul confused and unable to see clearly, they shouldn’t laugh mindlessly but ask whether this soul has just come from a brighter life and is unable to see because it’s unaccustomed to the dark, or whether it’s come from darkness into the light and is dazzled by the brilliance. They would consider one happy for their condition and circumstances, and pity the other. Or if they must laugh at the soul emerging from the light, their laughter would be less absurd than laughing at the soul returning from the darkness into the light.”

Love,
Huanhuan

March 28, 2025