Skip to main content

Struggling with Sisyphian thought.

Does anyone else find 'Sisyphian struggle' not just hard to say, but also ironic?

Sisyphus's tale, as metaphor, isn't really a lesson in what will happen to you if you piss off the gods multiple times (say, by skipping out of Hell and chaining Death up), though there is that element.  It's more about how daily tasks and the cyclical, repetitious aspects of life can be crushing.  They may require something heroic in us, and yet remain mundane (because everyone faces them in some form, and no one can shirk them all).  Worse, if we accept the metaphor fully (or are taken with arguments for a universal viewpoint, where we are but specks in the big scheme of things), our labours are ultimately futile and fruitless.

Camus thought this especially pertinent to modern living--though I suspect the ancients faced challenges not too removed from our own.  His answer, that we must imagine Sisyphus happy at times, seems to require a leap.  After all, how can a man cursed to toil on, pointlessly and endlessly,  be happy?

But, of course, we know we can be happy.  We have been before, and will be again. And, however small or ephemeral, accomplishment is also achievable.  Sisyphus always makes the top of his hill, and the boulder always leaves him as it tumbles down, and we, too, have our moments of triumph.  So it's not all dim, is it?

Still, the thought nags, why must we 'imagine Sisyphus happy'?  If, in this thing, I am he, as you are he, as you are me, and we are all together, wherefore this doubt?

Comments

  1. I'm not sure how applicable the Sisyphus tale is to my life (perhaps most peoples'?). It's not like I'm, metaphorically, rolling a rock up a hill and actually getting to the top, no matter how ephemerally. The reason accomplishment is always ultimately so dissatisfying for me is because once I reach what I thought was a peak,I realize that it was all along simply a small hump on a much larger mountain so that it doesn't even feel like much of an accomplishment at all when I reflect on it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. It's a matter of perspective, sure.

    The metaphor isn't total and perfect, especially if you don't feel its pull. The worry that it may ultimately be impossible to accomplish anything because, even after resolving an issue, similar problems will almost inevitably crop up; because solving such problems can be like taking a cup of water out of the ocean; because an inhumanly long (yet popular) view of things holds we shall all return to dust, to be followed, sooner or later, by our achievements; or because you can never reach any goal lofty enough to be worth having...this sort of concern is only convincing to those already sensitive to it. I think those underlying causes for the worry are tough to sum up in a single image, but that the feeling they share is fairly expressed in the punishment Sisyphus endures.

    This is perhaps why it is so important for us to imagine him happy from time to time. If we allow for happiness under the most grueling and lasting of pointless tasks, then we can admit and acknowledge the good in our own lives. For those sensitive to the worry I spoke of, for those who feel the weight of this metaphor, this is perhaps a road to changing one's perspective, such that it feels like less of an issue, and becomes less of a worry.

    Perhaps this is true for those on a continual ascent, as well as those who seem to constantly be climbing and reclimbing the same mountain.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Both the perspectives seem to share a sense of hopelessness and despair.

    I think that a person is going wrong as soon as he allows it to enter his head that what he's doing is grueling and pointless, that that is the basic condition of his life. Then everything he thinks and feels is a reaction against that grueling-ness and pointlessness, and not a spontaneous, creative happiness. I mean, his happy moments are tainted by his simultaneous self-consciousness that they will end. And perhaps he'll even feel an anxiety (or worry as you say) about his life, as in, he'll think that he's wasting his life by not being happy and this fear of waste will generate another cycle of unhappiness, etc. etc. etc.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

An introduction to a book that doesn't exist:

Prose and verse are generally accepted as distinct writing formats with their own rules, styles, and grammars.  Though their borders are somewhat vague, they have come to be seen as something of a dichotomy in the eyes of the general public.  There are, however, at least 3 other popular approaches to writing as exhibited in picture-books, comicbooks, and plays.  Though sometimes given short shrift, these styles are accepted as literature.  They are included in libraries, book stores, and academic study.  Most importantly, they are read. In the general case, there is clearly writing being done in the creation of any one of these.  But what of the wordless comic or silent play?  Should we consider scripts written, but fully realized plays, comics, and picture-books, to be performance, art, or some other kind of non-literature?  These worries of theory are kinks to be worked out, surely, but they are not of immediate practical concern to the writer...

Magical Unrealism

The same men who say global warming is a hoax, Obamacare has been failing for eight years, and abstinence-only sex-ed works are also convinced even basic gun control is an impossible and useless approach which would only make us less safe. These are also the dudes most likely to tell you black and brown folk have it too good, Obama is a secret Muslim born in Kenya, and Sharia law is being forced on American legal systems. I wonder if there's some sort of overarching thread or theme to all this.

Miike Takashi's Sukiyaki Western Django

I am a big fan of prolific Japanese director, Miike Takashi. His movies are not always good (which would be an accomplishment, considering he averages about three feature length films a year), but he doesn't mind experimenting or playing around. Not everything he tries works, but when it does, it can be pretty damn awesome. His subjects and genres vary wildly from a musical about a family running an inn, to a kid fighting goblins, to some of the best yakuza flicks I've seen. Meanwhile, he tends to get good performances from his actors, even when they are children or non-native Japanese speakers. The only time I've been completely disappointed with one of his pieces was a rejected instalment in Showtime's Masters of Horror , entitled 'Imprint'. The story was stupid, and the acting was bad. This was Miike's first all English production, and it showed. So, when I found out one of his 2007 films, Sukiyaki Western Django was in English, I was a bit put off. How ...