The Myth of Sisyphus
The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of
a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had
thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than
futile and hopeless labor.
If one believes Homer, Sisyphus was the wisest and most prudent of mortals.
According to another tradition, however, he was disposed to practice the
profession of highwayman. I see no contradiction in this. Opinions differ as
to the reasons why he became the futile laborer of the underworld. To begin
with, he is accused of a certain levity in regard to the gods. He stole their
secrets. Egina, the daughter of Esopus, was carried off by Jupiter. The father
was shocked by that disappearance and complained to Sisyphus. He, who
knew of the abduction, offered to tell about it on condition that Esopus
would give water to the citadel of Corinth. To the celestial thunderbolts he
preferred the benediction of water. He was punished for this in the
underworld. Homer tells us also that Sisyphus had put Death in chains. Pluto
could not endure the sight of his deserted, silent empire. He dispatched the
god of war, who liberated Death from the hands of her conqueror.
It is said that Sisyphus, being near to death, rashly wanted to test his wife's
love. He ordered her to cast his unburied body into the middle of the public
square. Sisyphus woke up in the underworld. And there, annoyed by an
obedience so contrary to human love, he obtained from Pluto permission to
return to earth in order to chastise his wife. But when he had seen again the
face of this world, enjoyed water and sun, warm stones and the sea, he no
longer wanted to go back to the infernal darkness. Recalls, signs of anger,
warnings were of no avail. Many years more he lived facing the curve of the
gulf, the sparkling sea, and the smiles of earth. A decree of the gods was
necessary. Mercury came and seized the impudent man by the collar and,
snatching him from his joys, lead him forcibly back to the underworld, where
his rock was ready for him.
You have already grasped that Sisyphus is the absurd hero. He is, as much
through his passions as through his torture. His scorn of the gods, his hatred
of death, and his passion for life won him that unspeakable penalty in which
the whole being is exerted toward accomplishing nothing. This is the price
that must be paid for the passions of this earth. Nothing is told us about
Sisyphus in the underworld. Myths are made for the imagination to breathe
life into them. As for this myth, one sees merely the whole effort of a body
straining to raise the huge stone, to roll it, and push it up a slope a hundred
times over; one sees the face screwed up, the cheek tight against the stone,
the shoulder bracing the clay-covered mass, the foot wedging it, the fresh
start with arms outstretched, the wholly human security of two earthclotted hands. 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. A face that toils so close to
stones is already stone itself! I see that man going back down with a heavy yet measured step
toward the torment of which he will never know the end. That hour like a breathing-space
which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. At each of those
moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is
superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock.
If this myth is tragic, that is because its hero is conscious. Where would his torture be, indeed,
if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him? The workman of today works everyday in
his life at the same tasks, and his fate is no less absurd. But it is tragic only at the rare moments
when it becomes conscious. Sisyphus, proletarian of the gods, powerless and rebellious,
knows the whole extent of his wretched condition: it is what he thinks of during his descent.
The lucidity that was to constitute his torture at the same time crowns his victory. There is no
fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn.
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. When the images of earth cling too tightly to memory, when the call of happiness
becomes too insistent, it happens that melancholy arises in man's heart: this is the rock's
victory, this is the rock itself. The boundless grief is too heavy to bear. These are our nights of
Gethsemane. But crushing truths perish from being acknowledged. Thus, Oedipus at the
outset obeys fate without knowing it. But from the moment he knows, his tragedy begins. Yet
at the same moment, blind and desperate, he realizes that the only bond linking him to the
world is the cool hand of a girl. Then a tremendous remark rings out: "Despite so many
ordeals, my advanced age and the nobility of my soul make me conclude that all is well."
Sophocles' Oedipus, like Dostoevsky's Kirilov, thus gives the recipe for the absurd victory.
Ancient wisdom confirms modern heroism.
One does not discover the absurd without being tempted to write a manual of happiness.
"What!---by such narrow ways--?" There is but one world, however. Happiness and the absurd
are two sons of the same earth. They are inseparable. It would be a mistake to say that
happiness necessarily springs from the absurd discovery. It happens as well that the felling of
the absurd springs from happiness. "I conclude that all is well," says Oedipus, and that remark
is sacred. It echoes in the wild and limited universe of man. It teaches that all is not, has not
been, exhausted. It drives out of this world a god who had come into it with dissatisfaction
and a preference for futile suffering. It makes of fate a human matter, which must be settled
among men.
All Sisyphus' silent joy is contained therein. His fate belongs to him. His rock is a thing Likewise,
the absurd man, when he contemplates his torment, silences all the idols. In the universe
suddenly restored to its silence, the myriad wondering little voices of the earth rise up.
Unconscious, secret calls, invitations from all the faces, they are the necessary reverse and
price of victory. There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night. The
absurd man says yes and his efforts will henceforth be unceasing. If there is a personal fate,
there is no higher destiny, or at least there is, but one which he concludes is inevitable and
despicable. For the rest, he knows himself to be the master of his days. At that subtle moment
when man glances backward over his life, Sisyphus returning toward his rock, in that slight
pivoting he contemplates that series of unrelated actions which become his fate, created by
him, combined under his memory's eye and soon sealed by his death. Thus, convinced of the
wholly human origin of all that is human, a blind man eager to see who knows that the night
has no end, he is still on the go. The rock is still rolling.
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.
---Albert Camus
Summary
Sisyphus is probablymore famous for his punishment in the underworldthan for what
he did in his life. According to the Greek myth, Sisyphus iscondemned to roll a rock
up to the top of a mountain, only to have the rock roll back down to the bottom
every time he reaches the top.The gods were wise, Camus suggests, in perceiving
thatan eternity of futile labor is a hideous punishment.
There are anumber of stories—ones which are not mutually exclusive—that explain
how Sisyphus came to earn his punishment in the underworld. According to one story,
Zeus carried off Aegina, a mortal woman who was the daughter of Asopus. Sisyphus witnessed
this kidnapping in his home city of Corinth. Sisyphus agreed to inform Asopus as to who had
kidnapped Aegina if Asopus would give the citadel at Corinth a fresh-water spring. In making
this deal and bearing witness against Zeus, Sisyphus earned the wrath of the gods while
earning earthly wealth and happiness for himself and his people.
Another story tells how Sisyphus enchained the spirit of Death, so that during Death's
imprisonment, no human being died. Naturally, when the gods freed Death, his first victim
was Sisyphus. It is also said that Sisyphus told his wife not to offer any of the traditional burial
rites when he died. When he arrived in the underworld, he complained to Hades that his wife
had not observed these rites and was granted permission to return to earth to chastise her.
Once granted this second lease on life, Sisyphus refused to return to the underworld, and lived
to a ripe old age before returning to the underworld a second time to endure his eternal
punishment.
Camus identifies Sisyphus as the archetypal absurd hero, both for his behavior on
earth and for his punishment in the underworld. He displaysscorn for the gods, a
hatred of death, and a passion for life. His punishment is toendure an eternity of
hopeless struggle.
We are not told how Sisyphus endures his punishment in the underworld: that much
is left to our imagination.What fascinates Camus is Sisyphus's state of mind in that
moment after the rock rolls away from him at the top of the mountain. As he heads
down the mountain, briefly free from his labor, he is conscious, aware of the absurdity
of his fate. His fate can only be considered tragic because he understands it and has
no hope for reprieve. At the same time,the lucidity he achieves with this understanding
also places him above his fate.
Camus suggests that Sisyphus might even approach his task with joy. The moments
of sorrow or melancholy come when he looks back at the world he's left behind, or
when he hopes or wishes for happiness. When Sisyphus accepts his fate, however, the
sorrow and melancholy of it vanish.Camus suggests that acknowledging "crushing
truths" like the eternity and futility of his fate is enough to render them less
crushing. He refers to Oedipus, who, having suffered so much, is able to "conclude that all is
well."
Happiness and the absurd are closely linked, suggests Camus. They are both
connected to the discovery that our world and our fate is our own, that there is no
hope and that our life is purely what we make of it. As he descends the mountain,
Sisyphus is totally aware of his fate. Camus concludes:"One must imagine Sisyphus
happy."
Analysis
The Absurd Hero - Life as a Constant Struggle without Hope
∙any attempt to deny or avoid the struggle and the hopelessness that define our lives
is an attempt to escape from this absurd contradiction
∙Camus' single requirement for the absurd man is thathe live with full
awareness of the absurdity of his position
∙in those moments where Sisyphus descends the mountain free from his
burden, he is aware.He knows that he will struggle forever and he knows that this
struggle will get him nowhere
∙this awareness is precisely the same awareness that an absurd man has in this life
∙so long as Sisyphus is aware, his fate is no different and no worse than our lot in life
Futility and Hopelessness
∙the central argument of this essay is thatlife itself is a futile struggle devoid of
hope
∙this fate is only horrible if we continue to think that there is something more that is
worth aiming for
∙if we accept that there is no preferable alternative, then we can accept our
fate without horror
∙only then can we fully appreciate life, becausewe are accepting it without
reservations
∙Therefore,Sisyphus is above his fate precisely because he has accepted it.
His punishment is only horrible if he can hope or dream for something
better. If he does not hope, the gods have nothing to punish him with .
Tragedy, Consciousness, & Happiness
∙Camus tells us thatthe moment Sisyphus becomes aware of his fate, his fate
becomes tragic
∙he also alludes toOedipus, whobecomes a tragic figure only when he
becomes aware that he has killed his father and married his mother
∙bothSisyphusandOedipusare ultimately happy, that they"conclude that all is
well."
∙Tragedy, Camus seems to be suggesting, is not pessimistic
oit represents the greatest triumph we are capable of as human beings
oas long as Sisyphus and Oedipus continue to hope and to deceive
themselves, they are not heroic
owithtragic recognition comes a full acknowledgment of our fate
and our limitations
owith that acknowledgment comes an acceptance of who we are and what
we are capable of
oin accepting their fate, Sisyphus and Oedipus have abandoned hope, and
so their fate does not seem horrible to them
oon the contrary, they have finally found the only genuine happiness
Connection between Happiness and Absurd Awareness
∙we can only be truly happy when we accept our life and our fate as entirely
our own—as the only thing we have and as the only thing we will ever be
∙the final sentence reads:"One must imagine Sisyphus happy."WHY?
oCamus's wording suggests that we haveno choice in the matter
oIs there an alternative?
▪Sisyphus is the absurd hero, the man who loved life so much that he has been condemned to
an eternity of futile and hopeless labor
▪yethe is above that fate precisely because he is aware of it
Logical Leap
∙if Sisyphus is not happy in this awareness, then absurd awareness
doesNOTbring happiness
∙it would then follow thathappiness is only possible if we evade absurd awareness,
if we leap into hope or faith
oIFthe leap into hope or faith represents an attempt to escape from
the reality of our fate andIFhappiness is only possible through such a leap
oTHENhappiness would essentially be anescape
▪life itself would be inherently unhappy
▪happiness would be a sham born out of denial
∙THEREFORE,we must imagine Sisyphus happy if we want to believe in
genuine happiness.
obecause Camus essentially believes in the idea that individual human
experience is the only thing that is real
oif he wants to show that happiness is real he must show that
individual humans can truly be happy based on their experiences,
not on their denial of experience
oif happiness is real, we must be able to find happiness without
relying on hope, faith, or anything else that goes beyond immediate
experience
The Myth of Sisyphusis essentially an elaborate attempt to show that this is
possible, and it concludes with its starting premise:
If genuine happiness is possible, then Sisyphus must be happy.
VACABULARY:
Wanker: (british slang) a person of little worth, someone who doesn't do anything except
please himself
foster-mother: a woman who raises a child who is not her birth child
a liberty: something that is true, but not really accurate
suckling: when a woman feeds a child breast milk
tit: breast
unfaithful: cheat on their mates, have sex with many women
infidelity: sleeping with someone who is not your partner
wrath: fury and punishment
humiliate: to make someone feel bad about who they are
braggart: someone who makes themselves sound very good by telling stories
shagged: (british slang) to have sex with
pythoness: priestess of Apollo who can tell the future and the past
atonement: to do good things to make up for bad things
hind: deer
stripped: to have taken off
orchard: farm that grows fruit
skin of wine: in ancient greece people sewed animal skins together to make containers for
liquid
poxy: diseased, sick
glaring: looking with the evil eye
vaulted: jumped over
worm cast: the skin of a snake that has fallen off... wyrm means dragon
morose: depressed, pesemistic, and serious
hailed: to call attention to
mowing: to cut grass
fleece: the skin of a sheep
plodding: walking heavily, without wanting to get where you are going
yoke: the harness of an ox so they can pull a cart
nipped: small bite
riven: broken on the inside, fractured by impurities