I've always liked Camus because his response to the absurd (and to meaninglessness) was to rebel. If the universe doesn't care, I will. If it isn't good, I will be.
In *The Plague*, the universe is not only meaningless; it slaughters innocents for no reason. What Camus seems to recommend as an individual person's response to this is to BE A SAINT. Do what is right. Sacrifice yourself for others. What's moving about this is how illogical it is. His existentialism is less coherent than Sartre's, but being like Sartre, or having much of anything to do with Sartre, is something I would rather avoid--especially if I can be like Camus instead.
I say all of this as an outside observer because I am not an existentialist and don't see the universe as pointless or absurd. I'll take universes by Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, or Maimonides, or even Kant if I really have to. But reading philosophy, or a novel, is about more than finding someone to agree with or to deliver the truth. Sometimes you find someone who is valuable for other reasons.
I did not know that paper by Nagel, but I am very glad that I do now. What an absolute gem. One is forced to read so much bad work as a professional scholar, and the further away from youth one gets, the less often one has that joy of just reading something that is really, really good (because one works through the hits in one's youth, and there is a limited supply of those). So thanks for putting that on my radar.
I believe that many activities will continue. Like life. Things will go on. Even dead things. In art nothing is ever finished. Everything is just in a temporary state. Flux.
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.
Reminds me of the dung 💩 beetles, father and son, in Victor Pelevins "life of insects" ...happily focusing on their task oblivious to the external world... until the dark shadow of the heel 👠...
I'd be curious at what point (if any) the external viewer/reader has a right to pity someone immersed in an artificial process. I think of people playing video games every waking moment, for instance. Surely there's a point where the process needs some intrinsic value.
You certainly have a right to pity, but I think the pity from the external is beside the point. If you view their life as meaningless, that is unimportant. It is meaningless. It's the struggle and value *they* place on it that's important.
The external value someone places on another's life has little to say on the inherent meaning on places on the task. After all - what's the intrinsic value of some generic office job compared to video games? Couldn't both processes be seen as equally artificial?
I'm sure I'm not logicking well, but I might argue that any job is artificial, up to a point. The only thing that really imbues any pastime with intrinsic worth is probably some belief in the inherent value of the human being. And I think working alongside other people in a real office, even if it's to create a product equally vapid as video games, is probably somewhat more of a human (and humane) task than others. There's a reason we have a television series about an office setting, in other words. But I'm probably diggressing here. I guess I just think that we have a duty to each other in community to help another whose efforts are objectively pointless. But maybe Sisyphus isn't a good example for that discussion since he exists in a vacuum, and a real Sisyphus would be like, some dude digging a hole and filling it over and over in his backyard. And he's gotta pay rent somehow.
Another great post.
I've always liked Camus because his response to the absurd (and to meaninglessness) was to rebel. If the universe doesn't care, I will. If it isn't good, I will be.
In *The Plague*, the universe is not only meaningless; it slaughters innocents for no reason. What Camus seems to recommend as an individual person's response to this is to BE A SAINT. Do what is right. Sacrifice yourself for others. What's moving about this is how illogical it is. His existentialism is less coherent than Sartre's, but being like Sartre, or having much of anything to do with Sartre, is something I would rather avoid--especially if I can be like Camus instead.
I say all of this as an outside observer because I am not an existentialist and don't see the universe as pointless or absurd. I'll take universes by Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, or Maimonides, or even Kant if I really have to. But reading philosophy, or a novel, is about more than finding someone to agree with or to deliver the truth. Sometimes you find someone who is valuable for other reasons.
I did not know that paper by Nagel, but I am very glad that I do now. What an absolute gem. One is forced to read so much bad work as a professional scholar, and the further away from youth one gets, the less often one has that joy of just reading something that is really, really good (because one works through the hits in one's youth, and there is a limited supply of those). So thanks for putting that on my radar.
Oh my god, I love The National. I guess I shouldn't be surprised a middle aged man likes them, but it's beautiful to find kindred spirits.
Well done. On the furniture, on the books, on the post. Amor Fati.
When you put it that way, why shouldn't Sisyphus or any other absurd hero be happy? Acceptance is the first and most important step. Excellent post!
I believe that many activities will continue. Like life. Things will go on. Even dead things. In art nothing is ever finished. Everything is just in a temporary state. Flux.
This section on Camus
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.
Reminds me of the dung 💩 beetles, father and son, in Victor Pelevins "life of insects" ...happily focusing on their task oblivious to the external world... until the dark shadow of the heel 👠...
I'd be curious at what point (if any) the external viewer/reader has a right to pity someone immersed in an artificial process. I think of people playing video games every waking moment, for instance. Surely there's a point where the process needs some intrinsic value.
You certainly have a right to pity, but I think the pity from the external is beside the point. If you view their life as meaningless, that is unimportant. It is meaningless. It's the struggle and value *they* place on it that's important.
The external value someone places on another's life has little to say on the inherent meaning on places on the task. After all - what's the intrinsic value of some generic office job compared to video games? Couldn't both processes be seen as equally artificial?
I'm sure I'm not logicking well, but I might argue that any job is artificial, up to a point. The only thing that really imbues any pastime with intrinsic worth is probably some belief in the inherent value of the human being. And I think working alongside other people in a real office, even if it's to create a product equally vapid as video games, is probably somewhat more of a human (and humane) task than others. There's a reason we have a television series about an office setting, in other words. But I'm probably diggressing here. I guess I just think that we have a duty to each other in community to help another whose efforts are objectively pointless. But maybe Sisyphus isn't a good example for that discussion since he exists in a vacuum, and a real Sisyphus would be like, some dude digging a hole and filling it over and over in his backyard. And he's gotta pay rent somehow.
Maybe paying the rent is the hole he's digging.
Excellent article
This piece really puts the struggle in perspective. And why can't the struggle be our passion?