Absurdity
A Sisyphean task is one that is both laborious and futile; a chore that requires great and extended vigor but accomplishes precisely nothing at all. This sort of task derives its name from the Greek myth of Sisyphus, a king sentenced by the gods to push a boulder up a hill for eternity.
One likely reason this particular myth has defied the erosion time is that it illustrates something fundamental about the nature of our reality. The connection is explored compellingly in Camus’ essay The Myth of Sisyphus.
If one assumes that Sisyphus’ has a capacity for reason, it becomes clear that the futility of his circumstance renders his situation a preposterous one, then the only reason to continue to push the boulder up the hill is that his fate has left him with nothing else to do. Sisyphus in this context is a character trapped in a constant search for meaning along a path devoid of it … a search that can only terminate over and over again in absurdity.
Camus observes a similar farcicality in the human condition. Given the inescapable reality of our mortality, our lives themselves are, ultimately, Sisyphean tasks. After all, every day of human existence is a day spent building for a tomorrow that will eventually tear down everything that was built.
When disillusioned, man and his pesky faculty of reason find themselves thus forcefully confronted with a reality that cannot oblige the fundamental need for a purpose. In this light, the human condition itself is absurd. In fact, it is the ultimate absurdity.
This is … problematic.
As outlined in the fundamental problems, an inability to quell our impulse towards teleological thinking results in a formidable barrier to engagement. If one allows that quality engagement is the key to positive experience, it is clear that this inability further relegates our condition to one of suffering — which, in turn, only sharpens the absurdity.
Since a life filled with suffering is not a worthwhile one, Camus sets out to confront what he calls the only serious philosophical question: if one is forced to truly contend with reality, and reality is, at its base, a chaotic, infertile place for human reason, is there a reasonable alternative to simply exiting existence? In a cold vacuum of meaning, what can be gained from continuing to push the rock?
In his own words in the opening lines of the essay:
Here is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the rest— whether or not the world has three dimensions, whether the mind has nine or twelve categories—comes afterwards. These are games; one must first answer.
Just as with any other game, for those of us interested in playing the game of self, we must come up with a convincing response to this question — a robust solution to the first fundamental problem.
This post explores that solution.
Illusion
We can begin by assuming that a healthy human reason is such that the need to operate with a sense of meaning must at least be addressed (if not legitimately answered). This can be done in one of two ways: in the harsh condition of absurdity or in the comfort of illusion. As Camus puts it:
On all essential problems (I mean thereby those that run the risk of leading to death or those that intensify the passion of living) there are probably but two methods of thought: the method of La Palisse and the method of Don Quixote.
Here I must admit that the method of Don Quixote is an intriguing one, then, if it is allowed that the ultimate victory in the face of absurdity is life rich in positive moment wealth in spite of it, an “acceptable” state of illusion is conceivable.
One can imagine Quixote, for example, taken in by a belief whose character is such that it delivers the veneer of purpose without also demanding sacrifices that infringe on the quality of his (or others’) experience. Were such a bubble to remain intact, I can find no issue with him having resided in it.
The problem, however, is two- fold. For one, illusions that consistently result in good outcomes for their wards are scarce – if they exist at all. One need only reflect on Don Quixote’s many unfortunate adventures, the first of which involved a sound beating at the hands of a windmill1This risk is only amplified when we do not have a say in the demands of the illusion, as is the case with the systematic illusions of church and state.. For another, reality is simply too full of possible events (or, perhaps, insights) that can pop the bubble. In a reality where any one of us could, at any time, fall victim to something so senseless as terminal cancer, for example, illusions of a greater plan or purpose are difficult to maintain.
So no, despite the temptation, upon honest inspection it becomes all too clear that one who placates his reason with illusion is much too vulnerable to both poor decision-making and the likelihood of having to face the absurdity at some point anyway. Given the opportunity to choose otherwise, illusion should be considered, at best, a suboptimal solution.
Upon reaching this concession, however, one must now weigh the alternative: facing the abyss and striving to conclude all is well in spite of it. One who undertakes this effort is dubbed by Camus as an “absurd man.” An absurd man recognizes first and foremost that, if pain must likely be confronted eventually, one is best off facing it on his own terms 2I think it will be allowed that it is better to confront a foe strategically than to unwittingly march into an ambush..
Here a much thornier, and yet also more promising, path appears. It may be acknowledged that the absurd man who is able to make peace with the absurdity is untouchable, for he must no longer fear being brought to his knees by the volatility of illusion or the pain of disillusionment. Such a man lives with the clarity that comes from truth and, as in most cases, is much surer of living well because of it.
Pain
As with many worthwhile things, this path towards well-being is not often an easy one. The pain of disillusion – of reconciling our reason directly with a privation of reconciliation – is sharp, and, for most, probably unavoidable.
Camus sees the insight of absurdity as a parallel to Sisyphus’s opportunities for contemplation of the futility of his task:
At the very end of his long effort measured by skyless space and time without depth, the purpose is achieved. Then Sisyphus watches the stone rush down in a few moments toward that lower world whence he will have to push it up again toward the summit. He goes back down to the plain. It is during that return, that pause, that Sisyphus interests me.
Our instinctual reaction to watching that stone roll down the hill again is desperate, angry and confused. Here, at the beginning of his journey, the absurd man must contend with a suction of dread that disrupts his attention and claws at his equanimity. One might compare it to surfacing into sunlight after spending a lifetime in darkness.
This trying step of the process has been described by many who have tackled the problem of absurdity.
From Camus:
At certain moments of lucidity, the mechanical aspect of their gestures, their meaningless pantomime makes silly everything that surrounds them. A man is talking on the telephone behind a glass partition; you cannot hear him, but you see his incomprehensible dumb show: you wonder why he is alive. This discomfort in the face of man’ s own inhumanity, this incalculable tumble before the image of what we are, this “nausea,” as a writer of today calls it, is also the absurd.
From Robert Solomon in From Hegel to Existentialism:
The existential attitude begins with a disoriented individual facing a confused world that he cannot accept.
From Nietzsche in The Will to Power, as he contemplates the fate of a post-enlightenment world which had turned its back on God (in his view, the major divider separating us from absurdity):
What I relate is the history of the next two centuries. I describe what is coming, what can no longer come differently: the advent of nihilism… For some time now our whole European culture has been moving as toward a catastrophe.
From Jean-Paul Sartre:
Life begins on the other side of despair.
Nausea, disorientation, nihilism, despair… these are all different ways to describe the pain of waking up from illusion and taking a proper account of our circumstances. It should be no great surprise that many who have glimpsed this barren landscape – whether it be in the form of a brief existential crisis or a prolonged state of depression – have been desperate of only one thing: relief from it.
Indeed, a common path of dealing with the pain of absurdity is to hold it at bay; to find ways to engage without addressing it; to pantomime a life of meaning without any real conviction and with a constant fear of crisis.
One may be thankful, however, that this path is not the only one. The philosophers who recognized the likelihood of suffering also point us to a better solution than simply seeking relief from it. Whether it be Nietzsche’s Übermensch, Camus’s absurd hero, or Sarte’s proposition that existence precedes essence, all indicate that there is good reason to hide not from absurdity, but rather reside and thrive in it. The answer is, in this sense, a non-answer — a solution that incorporates the existence of an intractable problem.
But yes, at first, there is pain. There is probably no way to soften the blow without prolonging it, and so I believe that one should not try. Should the absurd man wish to ascend into the absurd hero, he must accept the pain as part of the journey (or even better, as a positive signal that he is going in the right direction) and resist the temptation to head back to calmer waters 3Here I cannot help but think of this scene from The Matrix, where Cypher negotiates his return to the fantasy world with agent smith. I would challenge anyone to imagine having this option in those circumstances and not feel sympathy with the desire to be plugged back in..
Here one might find courage by relieving himself of the uniqueness fallacy. No matter how unique and challenging the pain may appear, there are countless examples of others who have sought, endured and overcome it in all manner of different circumstance. In doing so, they have made the way easier for us to follow. For this, we should be grateful.
In any case, however it is achieved, it is essential to have faith that he who stares unblinkingly into the light despite the burning of his eyes will eventually perceive a new world.
Peace
If the descent is thus sometimes performed in sorrow, it can also take place in joy. This word is not too much. Again I fancy Sisyphus returning toward his rock, and the sorrow was in the beginning…
Pain of most sorts is transient. So too is the pain of the absurdity. The resistance of our reason is forceful, and yet relenting. And then, when this most essential aching fades away, the absurd man finds himself, rather strangely, almost giddy at the newfound fortitude of his disposition.
Here one finds the means not only to exist, but to truly live… to measure himself against the universe and compose a rich symphony of subjectively meaningful experience tainted by no illusion that it must also be objectively so. Indeed, one perceives that, in the embrace of the absurd, the impetus of our toils must not constantly fall into question through failures of illusion. This allows us to reach a final and lasting acceptance of our circumstances and, subsequently, an earnest and uninterrupted engagement with our task.
It should be emphasized again that true acceptance is not realized through reconciliation of what cannot be reconciled; it is not a resolution of the absurdity. Rather, it is a defiance of it … a vigor of action in spite of it that rebelliously creates joy from emptiness. The ancient Greeks had a rather beautiful word, Eudemonia, to describe such an existence. It is defined as:
happiness, esp (in the philosophy of Aristotle) that resulting from a rational active life
The peace on the other side of pain stems directly from this essence of rational activity. While it may differ from the naive joy of a child or the drunken bliss of the convert, it is deep and enduring in a way that they are not.
To borrow once more from the ancient Greeks, we may understand our fate as similar to that of the 300 Spartans who faced certain annihilation in the face of an unending sea of Persian forces.
In the face of such odds, one has several options …
- to lay down his weapons and be overrun
- to fight with hope founded in treacherous alliances, accepting the risk of battling unskilfully under their terms or eventually being betrayed
- to fight hopelessly, to lament injury, and to ultimately yield in fear
- to fight skillfully and defiantly for so long as he has the means to do so
Many of us will choose one of the first three options. I will neither deign to judge those that do nor condescend to demand others pick a certain path. This is a decision everyone must make for themselves at some point or another.
I know only that I cannot do other than to follow in the example of Camus, and Sartre, and Leonidas, and forge my way with the last option. I do so indeed in peace, and yet also with great anticipation … for the battles will be glorious.
Camus concludes:
I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain! One always finds one’s burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
And with that, having also left him there, we are freed to move on to a much more interesting question than whether to live: how to?