FLOWERS OF ALGERNON

What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world but loses his soul? (Matthew 16:26; Mark 8:36). This time-worn question, rooted in biblical wisdom, resonates deeply when we consider Daniel Keyes’ Flowers for Algernon, a science fiction masterpiece first published as a short story in 1959 and expanded into a novel in 1966. The story of Charlie Gordon, a man with an intellectual disability who undergoes an experimental procedure to become “smart,” invites us to wrestle with what it means to be human, what constitutes the soul, and how one might lose it. I know this scripture has been attributed to one losing their soul to hell, but scripture only points to indirectly. Could the loss of one’s soul happen in this life?

Charlie’s Journey: A Glimpse of the World

In Flowers for Algernon, Charlie begins as a kind-hearted man with a low IQ, working a humble job at a bakery. His simple, childlike “progress reports” reveal a heart full of hope and a longing to learn. An experimental surgery, previously tested on a mouse named Algernon, promised to unlock his intellectual potential. At first, the surgery works. Charlie’s intelligence skyrockets. He surpasses the doctors’ intellect who engineered the procedure,  developing complex ideas, wrestling with newfound emotions, and uncovering painful truths, like how his coworkers had mocked him.

But the story takes a heartbreaking turn. Algernon, the mouse, began to regress, losing his enhanced intelligence. Charlie soon realized he faced the same fate. As his mind deteriorated, he returned to his original state, his brilliance fading like a dream. In his final report, Charlie asked that flowers be placed on Algernon’s grave, a poignant gesture of empathy and connection, even in his diminished state.

Charlie’s rise and fall mirror the question, “What does it profit a man to gain the world and lose his soul?” He briefly gains the “world” in the shape of intellectual brilliance, knowledge, and insight, but it comes at a cost. As his intelligence faded, we’re left wondering. What was lost, and what endured? Was it his soul that slipped away, or something else?

What Is the Soul?

The concept of the soul is slippery, varying across cultures, religions, and philosophies. At its core, the soul is often seen as the essence of a person, their consciousness, morality, emotions, and the spark of humanity. In Christian thought, the soul is eternal, the part of us that connects to the divine, capable of being nurtured or lost through choices and actions. In secular terms, the soul might be understood as our sense of self, our ego, our capacity for empathy, love, and meaning.

In Flowers for Algernon, Charlie’s soul might be glimpsed in his kindness, his curiosity, and his persistent desire to connect with others, even when he’s misunderstood. Before the surgery, his soul shines through his earnest progress reports, where he writes with innocence and hope. After the surgery, his heightened intelligence brings new awareness but also alienation. He sees the world’s cruelty and struggles to relate to others. As he loses his intelligence, his core humanity, his compassion for Algernon, and his gratitude for those who cared for him, his sense of self remains intact. This suggests that Charlie’s soul, his essential self, isn’t tied to his intellectual capacity but to something deeper and more enduring.

How Could One Lose Their Soul?

The question of losing one’s soul often implies a trade-off, gaining something worldly at the expense of what makes us human. In Charlie’s case, the pursuit of intelligence, a worldly gain, brings temporary triumph but also pain. His enhanced mind reveals the world’s harsh realities, stripping away the innocence that once shielded him. He gains knowledge but loses the simplicity of his former joy and trust. Yet, Charlie doesn’t fully lose his soul. Even as his intelligence fades, his empathy and humility persist, suggesting that his soul remains intact, anchored in his capacity for love and connection.

More broadly, losing one’s soul might mean surrendering to selfishness, cruelty, or despair, choices that erode our humanity. In the story, the doctors who prioritize scientific ambition over Charlie’s well-being come closer to losing their souls, as they treat him more as an experiment than a person. Charlie, by contrast, holds onto his soul through his compassion, even when the world he gained slips away.

Flowers for Algernon reminds us that the soul isn’t measured by what we achieve or how much we know, but by how we love, how we endure, and how we hold onto our humanity in the face of loss. Charlie’s fleeting brilliance gave him the world, but it was his heart, his soul, that left flowers for Algernon. The story challenges us to ask ourselves the question of what we are chasing and what we might lose along the way. In our own lives, the pursuit of success, knowledge, or power can dazzle us, but it’s our kindness, our connections, and our ability to find meaning in suffering that keep our souls alive.

So, what does it profit us to gain the world? Perhaps the answer lies not in what we gain, but in what we choose to hold onto.