His Sisyphus essay is famous for its closing line but I find it interesting how for several pages it closes with a thump, thump, thump and metaphor fusion (the essay is ending, the rock is rolling, the gods are watching, the choice is being made...) Even the second-last line is underrated:
"There is no fate that can not be surmounted by scorn. [...] His fate belongs to him. His rock is his thing. [...] The absurd man says yes and his effort will henceforth be unceasing. [...] The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy."
I don't directly interpret Camus, but I think to my interpretation of Dostoevsky's underground man. He knows he's irrational, can "rationally prove" he's irrational, yet still lives on anyways.
There's a sort of pride in fully knowing, accepting, and disengaging with some rational proof, and still "living your life anyways". In some sense, even though that might be irrational, it's one of the deepest forms of satisfaction.
I personally think that this kind of behavior is necessary, unavoidable, and actually good for society, precisely because no one has access to this thing called "rationality", if it even exists. The alternative is variants of authoritarian nightmares where one can't even begin to speak in opposition, because of course they're not rational.
But you're right, it can also be easily used to justify horrible things. And in this case, you can still lead to authoritarian nightmares, or worse.
Maybe bad people are bad, and no matter what philosophy you adopt, one can twist it to be bad.
I don't know if Camus and/or people who're very familiar with his essay would approve but maybe the Pixar movie Soul (2020) has something similar to what he was gesturing at. The protagonist finally gets a big break as a performer and says: "It's just I've been waiting on this day for... my entire life. I thought I'd feel different." The woman replies: "I heard this story about a fish. He swims up to this older fish and says, 'I'm trying to find this thing they call the ocean.' 'The ocean?' says the older fish. 'That's what you're in right now.' 'This?' says the young fish. 'This is water. What I want is the ocean.'"
Basically embracing life with full knowledge that there isn't some final transcendent epiphany or rapturous endpoint
It's so strange in that I recognize that I'm in the ocean and by all means, this is pretty incredible, even when it's not. It's so strange and amazing to be anything at all.
And yet the homonculus presses me forward and I want this, need that, think about this, touch that, stare at those, wonder, get frustrated, click my teeth and tap my desk, build this, build that, not good enough, start over...
I'm well aware that meditation and just calming the fuck down now and then are salves for the insanity, it's just wholly and completely weird that I can be aware of these things and still, reliably, also something resembling crazy.
Regarding the water thing, David Foster Wallace once said this:
There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says “Morning, boys. How’s the water?” And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes “What the hell is water?”
Sisyphus was a stone carver. I use that idea in my game Bouldering. The joy of wearing out these stones until they are small enough to carry in a pouch - the size of marbles. Only to be given another boulder. For free. And, he gets to live forever! Meh. There are worse fates in the myths.
Huh? Do you mean that in a literal sense, that Camus doesn't give instructions on how imagination works? To me, the quote certainly does explain how Sisyphus could be happy:
His fate belongs to him. His rock is his thing [..] The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart
> Notice that Camus doesn't say HOW to imagine Sisyphus happy. How do you?
The gods controlled the ascent, but they forgot to regulate the walk back down. In those brief, unburdened minutes descending the slope, Sisyphus is completely outside their authority.
You can imagine him however you like, laughing at the absurdity of it, studying the mountain, or simply enjoying the breeze. It almost doesn't matter. The walk down belongs to him.
The gods imposed the sentence. Sisyphus decides what it means.
This is Camus' idea of the universe and how to rebel against it by owning and enjoying the small freedoms.
Personally, I believe how you see Sisyphus happy reflects how YOU would enjoy your small freedoms, and this shows how Camus often wanted people to do philosophy on their own.
Yeah, it's a question with a personal answer, not an absolute answer. My answer works for me, for now, and I enjoy learning what answers work for other people.
I wonder if Camus had his own answer to that question. Could Camus imagine Sisyphus happy?
I don't think rebellion or ownership are enough. Rebellion is meaningless when you're alone with nothing to rebel against, and ownership is not inherently positive.
Gods not regulating the decent is an interesting take. Can one learn to smile while falling?
I've never seen an unhappy astronaut on the ISS :P
fwiw, I largely agree with mkovach's interpretation because of the direct analogy to modern work culture. But I do admire your view as well, I get a lot of satisfaction from deep cleaning and maintaining things, and there's a commensurate amount of pride watching the item transform back into something clean again.
1. "we build our life on the hope for tomorrow, yet tomorrow brings us closer to death and is the ultimate enemy; people live their lives as if they were not aware of the certainty of death."
2. "The workman of today works every day in his life at the same tasks, and this fate is no less absurd. But it is tragic only at the rare moments when it becomes conscious."
3. "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."
4. "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."
Shared my thoughts on the myth in my blog post below if interested.
I still don't understand how that metaphor works when Sisyphus' entire existence had meaning in the sense that god had basically cursed him to continue doing it regardless of what he wants (in the actual myth Camus references).
But that is kind of weird because it doesn't really mean what Sisyphus is doing is absurd or meaningless (it follows the perfectly valid logic that gods had put a spell on him, and he must do this continously so its not absurd compared to the question of our existence).
If you are not familiar with Camus' work, I highly recommend reading the essay collection Nuptials (Nuptials at Tipasa, The Wind at Djémila, Summer in Algiers and The Desert). It was written in 1936, when Camus was in his early twenties; several years before he articulated his "philosophie de l'absurde" in The Myth of Sisyphus and The Stranger.
Camus himself described Noces as belonging to a pre-absurdist "pagan" phase. It describes, in beautifully poetic french, the intense, sensual love of physical existence and the here-and-now that gives the absurd its stakes.
A quote from Nuptials at Tipasa:
In the spring, Tipasa is inhabited by gods and the gods speak in the sun and the
scent of absinthe leaves, in the silver armor of the sea, in the raw blue sky,
the flower-covered ruins, and the great bubbles of light among the heaps of
stone. At certain hours of the day the countryside is black with sunlight. The
eyes try in vain to perceive anything but drops of light and colors trembling on
the lashes.
[...]
I love this life with abandon and wish to speak of it boldly: it makes me proud of my human condition. Yet people have often told me: there’s nothing to be proud of. Yes, there is: this sun, this sea, my heart leaping with youth, the salt taste of my body and this vast landscape in which tenderness and glory merge in blue and yellow. It is to conquer this that I need my strength and my resources. Everything here leaves me intact, I surrender nothing of myself, and don no mask: learning patiently and arduously how to live is enough for me, well worth all their arts of living.
Before reading The Stranger, I was headlong into the then-popular "New Atheism" movement, which came with a certain air of superiority of brainpower over the naive masses. But reading The Stranger had a profound impact on me, even before I knew anything more formal about existentialist philosophy.
It was an awakening: I began to understand that the problem with the world isn't that everyone needs to learn more physics and think more like me. The problem is that none of this stuff -- life -- really means anything; that's a hard pill for lots of people to swallow (understandably); and our stupid little lives are just 80 years or so of farting around and trying to forget about what is obvious (h/t to KV).
The book ultimately softened my overly critical views about religion and superstition and helped me mature into someone much more sympathetic to the various weird things that people think and do.
As it happens, I recently re-read The Stranger -- the last time was in 2006, so it was essentially fresh.
The first half of the short book is easily on-par with any of the great masterpieces of literature. It was written in a direct, vivid, gripping, and yet somehow languorous style -- something almost paradoxical. It was also very attuned to the aesthetics and flow of the outside world, but inattentive to the narrator's inner life -- insensitive and, in a sense, essentially masculine in a non-performative way. As a purely aesthetic work, it is truly excellent.
The second half falls apart catastrophically. The key scenario, the book's turning point, is contrived almost beyond belief. The trial is a farce on several distinct levels -- you can criticize it from almost any perspective, and you'd be right. (There's a well-known Orientalist critique which is just the tip of the iceberg.) And the close of the book brings with it a number of unreliable narrator problems, which make the book as difficult to resolve as time-travel fiction.
My impression was that it worked wonderfully as pure prose, and that Camus should probably have written travel journals a la Gerard Nerval. As philosophy, though, it was hopelessly muddled, badly contrived, and confused.
At least from my perspective, the trial is meant to be contrived and a farce. From Meursault's perspective (which I agree that he can be an unreliable narrator) everything happening around him is inconsequential; he reflects that death-even of someone so "close" to him as his mother-doesn't matter as the end would always come. Meursault is on trial for his disposition, rather than the actual murder. The prosecution argues that Meursault is guilty due to his aloofness rather than any discussion of the murder (the defense openly questions whether Meursault is on trial for the murder of the arab or the murder of his mother!). At least for me, this difference was what _The Stranger_ was about; this inherent clash between indifference and the human rejection of the "gentle indifference of the universe". The fact that Meursault's unreliable narrator aspect comes about of the confrontation between the priest(?) and himself makes me think that Meursault too was hiding under this coating of lucidity, where he (and others who pretend to be stoics in the face of the absurd) will eventually break down. I reccomend reading _The Myth of Sisyphus_, especially the third and fourth parts, for Camus' explanation of the absurd hero.
Also, could you link the critiques? They sound interesting and I'd like to read them.
The problem as I see it is in the fact that the book describes the world very naturalistically. The first half of the book is basically Proust, if Proust were less introspective and didn't care to inflate his word count. It's actually rare to find a book where the events of day-to-day life -- running to catch a tram, or spending a lazy Sunday afternoon on one's balcony -- are relayed with such clarity and directness.
Then the murder happens -- which was a highly contrived and even quite ridiculous scenario, in that (a) Mersault's party was quite literally being stalked by an armed gang, (b) Mersault separated himself from the pack and was menaced by one of his stalkers, who was armed with a knife, (c) the naked knife was in the man's hand, as that man was blocking Mersault's path, (d) there were no witnesses, and (e) Mersault was a Frenchman in colonial French Algeria.
Not 1 in 10000 times does that go to court for murder, and not 1 in 1000000 times does it result in the death penalty.
But, anyway, back to my point: The minute the murder happens, we're yanked out of the naturalistic world and thrust directly into the world of Kafka's The Trial. Nothing makes sense any longer. What once was so true-to-life becomes something akin to the hallucinatory descent of divine justice -- a bad trip, a fever dream. "Yeah, you're off to the guillotine because you didn't cry at your mom's funeral. What kind of monster are you?" The most parsimonious interpretation is that the narrator has simply lost his mind.
Don't even get me started on the fact that every reviewer thinks that Mersault was executed, when that never actually happens in the book, and would result in him not being able to write the book in the first place. (Further confused by the variety of tenses used in the construction of the prose.) The book, which is written something like a memoir, ends with his appeal still pending, and the prison chaplain "sure of its success."
As to the critiques, the Orientalist one is in Edward Said's "Culture and Imperialism" but I don't think that the full version is online. As I recall, it basically concerned point (e) above, and noted that the trial would not have happened -- so the notion of the trial may be a sort of cope.
Your analogy of divine justice struck me as rather fitting! Before the trial, the magistrate brandishes the cross to Meursault and demands that Meursault believe that he will be forgiven, lest the magistrate's life lack meaning. Meursault, although "forced" into saying that such a god exists, denies that such a god, a divine judgment, could give life meaning. His position reflects Camus' as Camus believes that hope of finding meaning (god) is ultimately just a way to postpone nihilism, not to overcome it. The point of the trial wasn't to be logical or make sense, as the irrational instinctual human response to the absurd is what characterizes the trial. There's a shift in the jury when Meursault states that he shot the attacker a few times, then a few times again when they were on the ground. Again, Meursault's trial is a reflection of the human struggle against the absurd. Some bring god, others bring human ethics and emotions, but it is ultimately humans dealing with the absurd irrationally. For the execution point, I find that it actually doesn't matter whether the execution has gone through or not. Meursault already denies any sense of hope (reflecting his position as the absurd hero), rather, embracing the absurd. It is a bit weird if there would be a focus on the end result, which I don't really think matters, to the reader nor Meursault. Addressing the juxtoposition of the first and second parts, I think the first part was an exploration of the absurd hero's life, and the second part was more of the reaction to the absurd hero by society. I'm not the smartest, so I find it hard to fit the distinction. At least, I enjoyed reading the novel :D
Again, maybe this is just cope for bad writing but the fundamental absurdity of the trial, which you have clearly shown, is one of the points of the novel. It's more a philosophical treatise disguised as a novel really. The prose is supposed to reflect someone who is a stranger to us, and the plot is supposed to evoke feelings of incredulity into the reader!
I've only read it once, which was last year, and I thought Meursalt's indifference to his life and those around him was then directed back on to him through the trial (which I didn't consider absurd at all.)
In that way he is more representative of the society that has placed him on trial than anyone else in it.
> Meursault already denies any sense of hope (reflecting his position as the absurd hero), rather, embracing the absurd. It is a bit weird if there would be a focus on the end result, which I don't really think matters, to the reader nor Meursault.
This is emphatically not the case, though! Not only does he not deny any sense of hope, he dwells on his hope. He practically lives on it.
I'll quote from the book:
"There were two other things about which I was always thinking: the dawn and my appeal. . .
"Then all day there was my appeal to think about. I made the most of this idea, studying my effects so as to squeeze out the maximum of consolation. . .
"I gave myself leave, to consider the other alternative; that my appeal was successful. And then the trouble was to calm down that sudden rush of joy racing through my body and even bringing tears to my eyes."
The prison scenes mostly concern how he alternates between clinging to hope and distracting his mind. He merely claims to lose hope in the book's very last paragraph, and imagines a spectacular public execution. (Something else that's quite weird in itself, as the French banned public executions in 1939 and the book takes place in the 1940s.)
> I think the first part was an exploration of the absurd hero's life, and the second part was more of the reaction to the absurd hero by society.
This is by no means clear, as I don't think that Mersault is a well-defined "absurd hero" (VERY subtle differences in framing, and more introspective narration, would have you believe that he's the perfect bourgeois citizen!) nor is the "reaction by society" at all credible.
I read it for the first time a couple months ago. How I remember the prison scenes was that he felt the emotions happening buy he didn't connect to them. His emotions had as little meaning to him as the trial had, as the murder had, as his girlfriend had, and as his mother had. He just describes what's going on, and because he's locked up in a cell the only thing going on is inside him, but still he does not connect to it. He didn't connect to the world that was outside him, and he doesn't connect to the world that's inside him.
To me the weirdest part of the book, that I find out of character, is that he went along to write that letter for his neighbor, and to aid his neighbor at the police station. If you care so little about anything, if you're that cool, why don't you pass on that weird neighbor. Just close the door without saying anything and go smoke your sigarettes in the window, you poser.
The only way I can make his acts rhyme is if he's just telling himself how cool he is, but he's a actually a social outcast too cool for school who only wants to hang out with people he thinks are cool, e.g. the "bad boy neighbor". That guy was a certified woman beater. And that's the guy he chooses to associate with?
If anything this is the character Dennis of Always Sunny was based on, especially his highschool years.
When Martin Shkreli first burst onto the scene it reminded me of the trial a bit. Like I really believe a lot of the negative polarization he received was due to his smirk rather than due to his drug pricing per se
Nah, he was a scapegoat so the rest of big pharma could continue to do the exact same shit he did. He was just too noisy about it. "Justice served, we got all the bad guys!"
It’s been a while, but I recall finding The Plague more compelling than The Stranger.
While I agree with Camus’s philosophical points about the absurdity of existence and the indifference of the universe, within the scope of our tiny little lives there is morality and meaning. Taking action to address the suffering caused by an epidemic is meaningful. So are the deaths of an Arab or one’s mother, and the premise that a human would be so alienated that they would feel nothing at them is unconvincing, even if the universe doesn’t care.
> It’s been a while, but I recall finding The Plague more compelling than The Stranger.
> While I agree with Camus’s philosophical points about the absurdity of existence and the indifference of the universe, within the scope of our tiny little lives there is morality and meaning.
I'm pretty sure later-life (relatively, since he died pretty young) Camus would agree with you. The way I view it, The Stranger was him diagnosing the problem of existential absurdism and The Plague was his answer to what you do about it after he discovered it himself as part of the French resistance.
The Stranger is, IMO, mostly interesting to see how his own views changed over those ~5 years and shouldn't really be an introduction to his philosophy.
Yes, this is the mistake almost everyone makes - stopping at "life is absurd!". The rebel and the plague show how to do something meaningful in spite of that.
I've always pointed the Absurdists to his nobel prize speech as a quick way of showing them that they don't have the slightest idea of what he was talking about. The cognitive dissonance is generally too great, and the leave in a huff.
I agree. Camus' work was a larger project. One he sadly never finished.
His works (essays, short stories, plays, etc.) build on one another, gradually unfolding an argument: first confronting the absurd, then asking how one should respond to it, and later exploring what it means to live and act in spite of it.
I heard of Camus around 1985 when I started listening to the Cure. For several years, I collected Cure records, saw the Cure live, and the Cure was near the top of my obsessions. I heard all about the controversy of their single, "Killing An Arab", how it had been introduced on the radio, and how it gained a disclaimer sticker.
I eventually read the first 3 pages of The Stranger and then I stopped. I also never read any Baudelaire or Charlotte Sometimes. I am probably in the majority of Cure fans in the United States.
The books I prefer to read are YA fantasy, science fiction, The Chronicles of Narnia, Robert Heinlein, Larry Niven, Clarke, Asimov, Michael Crichton, and so forth.
Mostly, action/adventure plots that are set in fantasy universes, from American/British authors.
I have also read Catholic philosophy, such as St. Thomas Aquinas.
I was curious about Camus' writing style and to see what had inspired Robert Smith to write his lyrics, but I wasn't interested in the philosophy of existentialism, or the gritty reality, or the setting. I don't really like France or French things at all.
Trivia about "Killing An Arab": on the single/studio version, the very last lyrics Robert Smith nearly mumbles: "oh, Mersault!"
I read it but I didn't really get why its so hyped/mindblowing
It may just be a Seinfeld Effect for me though
I get that in the context of literature its quite a unique story/take but I just felt like the concept of life being meaningless/absurd is kind of a tired trope for younger generations
Especially if you are someone who grew up on the internet, depression/meaninglessness was like a mainstream meme in the last decade
It is quite accessible and is read by teenagers during their angst. It appeals to people become it is a simple premise that gives simple choices to the reader.
Hm, Absurdity is an interesting concept, M. Camus. Thank you for posting it to HN, I have looked through the docs and I got curious.
How does it compare with Buddhism of Siddharta Guatama and the preceding buddhas, or Stoicism by Zeno? I have been a big fan of Stoicism 2.0 by Marcus Aurelius. Why should one continue to download and install Absurdity? Can anyone who’s been running Absurdity in production do a comparison of its features vs the existing philosophies ..
Camus would call Buddhism, and other religions, "philosophical suicide", because you're basically believing in a made-up justification for your existence and what its purpose is.
Stoicism is a guide on how you should live your life: stay in the place that was given to you at birth, and be satisfied from it. So Camus would call it "philosophical suicide" too.
Camus commands you to accept fully that your life has no purpose despite how bad you would like the Universe to give you one, and then choose to continue living on anyway. This desire for meaning vs the lack of answer from the Universe is what Camus labels "absurd".
Camus saw the problem (or got close to it) but kept it. He noticed the craving for meaning, noticed the world won't answer it, and then chose to hold on to the craving anyway and call that defiance freedom. That's just suffering with extra steps and rationalizing it.
The buddha didn't offer a "justification for existence." He pointed out that the demand for one is the problem (part of it anyway). You crave meaning, the craving hurts, so abandon the craving (not just for meaning and not by an act of will). Camus couldn't conceive of that, so he made a virtue out of carrying the boulder
At least for me, the idea of giving up the craving for _everything_ seems to be rather...undesireable. I'd argue that a futile existence, with full knowledge that it is futile but living anyways, is much more "life-affirming" than giving up all desire. I want to feel, to touch, to yearn. Even if those don't mean anything, I think it's much better to do rather than to not do. And I think that humans, more than anything, want to feel alive. That's why we can never abandon that craving, why we must live with it and surpass it rather than retreating from it.
I wrote the following and then realized it sounds a little pretentious, but I think it get my point across regardless. Also, I’m not a scholar of Buddhism or a practicing Buddhist, so I could be grossly generalizing or misunderstanding what I have read, but I believe I’m not to far off base.
I think the Buddhist reply would be that living without craving and without yearning leads to truly being ‘alive’ and enables one to feel, to touch, and to experience the world as it is and in the immeasurably short time a person is alive within it. An existence where the present is experienced and cherished in the moment of having it, while knowing and accepting the inevitability of this moments ending. Such a life, in the Buddhist tradition, embodies the knowing and accepting of the ultimate emptiness of reality and then proceed to live, not in spite of the emptiness, but in the full appreciation of the act of living.
Huh, haven't looked at it that way. I'm just not sure about the leap from a lack of craving allows us to truly experience the world. As a general rule, I think humans want more. We usually aren't satisfied with "okay enough" and is what led us to do basically everything we have done. Nobody does something if they don't have a motivation to do it. I think that desire is so fundamental to life that to lead life without desire is empty, but I can definitely see how chasing your desires can blind yourself to everything else.
You can probably fairly trivially prove their claim to yourself with 1-2 months of 10-20min daily of meditation.
There's a reason it's often referred to as "waking up." The essential claim is a bit broader than what it seems like you're picking up. It's not craving = blinding. Or rather that's the most extreme end of the spectrum.
It's that we are effectively going through life in a dreamlike state. We are so preoccupied with the contents of our mind that we effectively "shut out" nearly everything about the actual world. Actually clearing your mind feels quite nearly identical to the sensation of waking up from sleep into the waking world.
A bit of practice meditating, I think you will come to prove them correct. It really is incredible how constantly-full a person's mind is, and the degree to which that distracts them from what's really going on.
Note that what Buddhists call suffering or craving is a far, far more expansive set of things than what you would intuitively describe as such. So I think they can mislead into this craving = blindness extremity.
It's slightly too broad, but probably closer to say "thinking [preoccupation with the contents of your mind] = distraction [from the real experience of being your mind]"
Thanks for your explanations, It some times feels everyone's reality is mostly their POV from what's going on on their brain.
Two person on the same exact physical circumstances can experience the same events in highly different meanings and the "World" remains the same shared constant, but how you "Percieve" such events in the world ain't.
If you substitute "clinging" for "craving" (Burbea's Seeing that Frees expounds on this very clearly) then I think we get a better English interpretation of the material.
If the mind's full of clinging (either in demanding what isn't present or refusing to release what was present but which is now leaving the present) then that mind doesn't have any room left to experience aliveness.
So (to me) the material doesn't suggest asceticism or abandoning the human sensual potential, it reminds that clinging will sneak in and take over the mental cycles, undermining your ability to live to that potential.
The way you phrased your second block, particularly your last sentence is exceptional. I’m not sure if I agree with the substance (I’m pretty sure I’m about 90% there), but the phrasing is very emphatic.
A lot of discussions I’ve seen, and taken part in, when focusing on Camus and his cadre of fellows lead to a comparison between Buddhist thought and existentialist thought. I tend to side closer to the Buddhist outlook and acceptance of the ground truth of sunyata (often translated ‘emptiness’) versus the more modern tendency toward western Nihilism as a response to the Absurd. The depths of response in people and their dealings with these thoughts and feelings interest me, but I also like to watch people choosing between descriptions of Absurdity to try and make it a completely different concept to the Buddhist ideas.
I’m not sure I agree that ‘Camus couldn’t conceive of’ the Buddhist response to the inherent tension arising from craving ultimate meaning where none is possible; however, he and the other existentialists certainly went to great written lengths to seemingly avoid finding the Buddha’s answer.
I think Reality is so big, you can superimpose any Quality (Absurdism, Discordianism, Hedonism, Lovecraftian Horror, Bhakti Devotion, Theatre metaphors, Infinite Games metaphors, etc). The way I think is : all these qualities are of a subset and we are applying these qualities to a superset through morphing step by step. One just has to be clever enough with words.
His Sisyphus essay is famous for its closing line but I find it interesting how for several pages it closes with a thump, thump, thump and metaphor fusion (the essay is ending, the rock is rolling, the gods are watching, the choice is being made...) Even the second-last line is underrated:
"There is no fate that can not be surmounted by scorn. [...] His fate belongs to him. His rock is his thing. [...] The absurd man says yes and his effort will henceforth be unceasing. [...] The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy."
> One must imagine Sisyphus happy
Notice that Camus doesn't say HOW to imagine Sisyphus happy. How do you?
I imagine that he's happy because he takes pride in the quality of his work pushing the stone.
I don't directly interpret Camus, but I think to my interpretation of Dostoevsky's underground man. He knows he's irrational, can "rationally prove" he's irrational, yet still lives on anyways.
There's a sort of pride in fully knowing, accepting, and disengaging with some rational proof, and still "living your life anyways". In some sense, even though that might be irrational, it's one of the deepest forms of satisfaction.
As a sort of dessert to that main course, one could imagine Camus happy. (For example, while playing Aunt Agony.) Or appetizer.
Personally, this helped https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2023/03/14/camuss-new-yo...
https://archive.ph/JEuoa
>Forty-eight hours of pleasant euphoria
Such an epicure? So Epicurean?
(As well as the rest of the diary)
And this explains a lot of politics these days…
I personally think that this kind of behavior is necessary, unavoidable, and actually good for society, precisely because no one has access to this thing called "rationality", if it even exists. The alternative is variants of authoritarian nightmares where one can't even begin to speak in opposition, because of course they're not rational.
But you're right, it can also be easily used to justify horrible things. And in this case, you can still lead to authoritarian nightmares, or worse.
Maybe bad people are bad, and no matter what philosophy you adopt, one can twist it to be bad.
I don't know if Camus and/or people who're very familiar with his essay would approve but maybe the Pixar movie Soul (2020) has something similar to what he was gesturing at. The protagonist finally gets a big break as a performer and says: "It's just I've been waiting on this day for... my entire life. I thought I'd feel different." The woman replies: "I heard this story about a fish. He swims up to this older fish and says, 'I'm trying to find this thing they call the ocean.' 'The ocean?' says the older fish. 'That's what you're in right now.' 'This?' says the young fish. 'This is water. What I want is the ocean.'"
Basically embracing life with full knowledge that there isn't some final transcendent epiphany or rapturous endpoint
It's so strange in that I recognize that I'm in the ocean and by all means, this is pretty incredible, even when it's not. It's so strange and amazing to be anything at all.
And yet the homonculus presses me forward and I want this, need that, think about this, touch that, stare at those, wonder, get frustrated, click my teeth and tap my desk, build this, build that, not good enough, start over...
I'm well aware that meditation and just calming the fuck down now and then are salves for the insanity, it's just wholly and completely weird that I can be aware of these things and still, reliably, also something resembling crazy.
The hedonic treadmill turns even when you know you're on it
Regarding the water thing, David Foster Wallace once said this:
There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says “Morning, boys. How’s the water?” And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes “What the hell is water?”
Sisyphus was a stone carver. I use that idea in my game Bouldering. The joy of wearing out these stones until they are small enough to carry in a pouch - the size of marbles. Only to be given another boulder. For free. And, he gets to live forever! Meh. There are worse fates in the myths.
He did mention a thing or two about coffee heheheh
> Camus doesn't say HOW to imagine Sisyphus happy
Huh? Do you mean that in a literal sense, that Camus doesn't give instructions on how imagination works? To me, the quote certainly does explain how Sisyphus could be happy:
His fate belongs to him. His rock is his thing [..] The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart
If you were in Sisyphus' shoes, could you be happy under those terms?
Struggle alone doesn't do it for me personally, but taking pride in how well I struggle does.
> Notice that Camus doesn't say HOW to imagine Sisyphus happy. How do you?
The gods controlled the ascent, but they forgot to regulate the walk back down. In those brief, unburdened minutes descending the slope, Sisyphus is completely outside their authority.
You can imagine him however you like, laughing at the absurdity of it, studying the mountain, or simply enjoying the breeze. It almost doesn't matter. The walk down belongs to him.
The gods imposed the sentence. Sisyphus decides what it means.
This is Camus' idea of the universe and how to rebel against it by owning and enjoying the small freedoms.
Personally, I believe how you see Sisyphus happy reflects how YOU would enjoy your small freedoms, and this shows how Camus often wanted people to do philosophy on their own.
Yeah, it's a question with a personal answer, not an absolute answer. My answer works for me, for now, and I enjoy learning what answers work for other people.
I wonder if Camus had his own answer to that question. Could Camus imagine Sisyphus happy?
I don't think rebellion or ownership are enough. Rebellion is meaningless when you're alone with nothing to rebel against, and ownership is not inherently positive.
Gods not regulating the decent is an interesting take. Can one learn to smile while falling?
> Can one learn to smile while falling?
I've never seen an unhappy astronaut on the ISS :P
fwiw, I largely agree with mkovach's interpretation because of the direct analogy to modern work culture. But I do admire your view as well, I get a lot of satisfaction from deep cleaning and maintaining things, and there's a commensurate amount of pride watching the item transform back into something clean again.
1. "we build our life on the hope for tomorrow, yet tomorrow brings us closer to death and is the ultimate enemy; people live their lives as if they were not aware of the certainty of death."
2. "The workman of today works every day in his life at the same tasks, and this fate is no less absurd. But it is tragic only at the rare moments when it becomes conscious."
3. "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."
4. "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."
Shared my thoughts on the myth in my blog post below if interested.
https://www.rxjourney.net/one-must-imagine-sisyphus-happy
Edit:I don't think the second last line is underrated.
I still don't understand how that metaphor works when Sisyphus' entire existence had meaning in the sense that god had basically cursed him to continue doing it regardless of what he wants (in the actual myth Camus references).
But that is kind of weird because it doesn't really mean what Sisyphus is doing is absurd or meaningless (it follows the perfectly valid logic that gods had put a spell on him, and he must do this continously so its not absurd compared to the question of our existence).
He frames the lack of answer by the universe as "unreasonable" but is it really? Thomas Nagel's paper on this is interesting imo: https://philosophy.as.uky.edu/sites/default/files/The%20Absu...
The Meaningless and absurdity part comes from doing the same thing over and over, and it’s done as a punishment and not to serve a grand purpose.
You can see something similar on humans with myth if you can call it that where humans humans must work after the sin of Adam and eve
I think you should read the paper I shared since it explains the prespective much better.
> One must imagine Sisyphus happy
I have my disagreements with Absurdism, but still, Gavin Aung Than's comic on Bill Watterson's "A Cartoonist's Advice" adds to perspective on what it might mean to forever push boulder up hill & yet manifest happiness: https://www.zenpencils.com/comic/128-bill-watterson-a-cartoo... / https://archive.vn/a34Bx
What are your disagreements with Absurdism?
If you are not familiar with Camus' work, I highly recommend reading the essay collection Nuptials (Nuptials at Tipasa, The Wind at Djémila, Summer in Algiers and The Desert). It was written in 1936, when Camus was in his early twenties; several years before he articulated his "philosophie de l'absurde" in The Myth of Sisyphus and The Stranger.
Camus himself described Noces as belonging to a pre-absurdist "pagan" phase. It describes, in beautifully poetic french, the intense, sensual love of physical existence and the here-and-now that gives the absurd its stakes.
A quote from Nuptials at Tipasa:
In the spring, Tipasa is inhabited by gods and the gods speak in the sun and the scent of absinthe leaves, in the silver armor of the sea, in the raw blue sky, the flower-covered ruins, and the great bubbles of light among the heaps of stone. At certain hours of the day the countryside is black with sunlight. The eyes try in vain to perceive anything but drops of light and colors trembling on the lashes.
[...]
I love this life with abandon and wish to speak of it boldly: it makes me proud of my human condition. Yet people have often told me: there’s nothing to be proud of. Yes, there is: this sun, this sea, my heart leaping with youth, the salt taste of my body and this vast landscape in which tenderness and glory merge in blue and yellow. It is to conquer this that I need my strength and my resources. Everything here leaves me intact, I surrender nothing of myself, and don no mask: learning patiently and arduously how to live is enough for me, well worth all their arts of living.
This is truly some of the most beautiful writing I’ve ever encountered. Thank you for posting it.
>At certain hours of the day the countryside is black with sunlight.
What does this mean ? Why "black" ?
I understand it as sunlight so bright that your eyes are half-closed, obscuring the landscape
Feel great to read this type of article on hackernews. Camus died too young, and the current world have enough of evidence of absurdity.
See also "Camus and Sartre: The Story of a Friendship and the Quarrel that Ended It" https://press.uchicago.edu/Misc/Chicago/027961.html
Before reading The Stranger, I was headlong into the then-popular "New Atheism" movement, which came with a certain air of superiority of brainpower over the naive masses. But reading The Stranger had a profound impact on me, even before I knew anything more formal about existentialist philosophy.
It was an awakening: I began to understand that the problem with the world isn't that everyone needs to learn more physics and think more like me. The problem is that none of this stuff -- life -- really means anything; that's a hard pill for lots of people to swallow (understandably); and our stupid little lives are just 80 years or so of farting around and trying to forget about what is obvious (h/t to KV).
The book ultimately softened my overly critical views about religion and superstition and helped me mature into someone much more sympathetic to the various weird things that people think and do.
As it happens, I recently re-read The Stranger -- the last time was in 2006, so it was essentially fresh.
The first half of the short book is easily on-par with any of the great masterpieces of literature. It was written in a direct, vivid, gripping, and yet somehow languorous style -- something almost paradoxical. It was also very attuned to the aesthetics and flow of the outside world, but inattentive to the narrator's inner life -- insensitive and, in a sense, essentially masculine in a non-performative way. As a purely aesthetic work, it is truly excellent.
The second half falls apart catastrophically. The key scenario, the book's turning point, is contrived almost beyond belief. The trial is a farce on several distinct levels -- you can criticize it from almost any perspective, and you'd be right. (There's a well-known Orientalist critique which is just the tip of the iceberg.) And the close of the book brings with it a number of unreliable narrator problems, which make the book as difficult to resolve as time-travel fiction.
My impression was that it worked wonderfully as pure prose, and that Camus should probably have written travel journals a la Gerard Nerval. As philosophy, though, it was hopelessly muddled, badly contrived, and confused.
At least from my perspective, the trial is meant to be contrived and a farce. From Meursault's perspective (which I agree that he can be an unreliable narrator) everything happening around him is inconsequential; he reflects that death-even of someone so "close" to him as his mother-doesn't matter as the end would always come. Meursault is on trial for his disposition, rather than the actual murder. The prosecution argues that Meursault is guilty due to his aloofness rather than any discussion of the murder (the defense openly questions whether Meursault is on trial for the murder of the arab or the murder of his mother!). At least for me, this difference was what _The Stranger_ was about; this inherent clash between indifference and the human rejection of the "gentle indifference of the universe". The fact that Meursault's unreliable narrator aspect comes about of the confrontation between the priest(?) and himself makes me think that Meursault too was hiding under this coating of lucidity, where he (and others who pretend to be stoics in the face of the absurd) will eventually break down. I reccomend reading _The Myth of Sisyphus_, especially the third and fourth parts, for Camus' explanation of the absurd hero.
Also, could you link the critiques? They sound interesting and I'd like to read them.
The problem as I see it is in the fact that the book describes the world very naturalistically. The first half of the book is basically Proust, if Proust were less introspective and didn't care to inflate his word count. It's actually rare to find a book where the events of day-to-day life -- running to catch a tram, or spending a lazy Sunday afternoon on one's balcony -- are relayed with such clarity and directness.
Then the murder happens -- which was a highly contrived and even quite ridiculous scenario, in that (a) Mersault's party was quite literally being stalked by an armed gang, (b) Mersault separated himself from the pack and was menaced by one of his stalkers, who was armed with a knife, (c) the naked knife was in the man's hand, as that man was blocking Mersault's path, (d) there were no witnesses, and (e) Mersault was a Frenchman in colonial French Algeria.
Not 1 in 10000 times does that go to court for murder, and not 1 in 1000000 times does it result in the death penalty.
But, anyway, back to my point: The minute the murder happens, we're yanked out of the naturalistic world and thrust directly into the world of Kafka's The Trial. Nothing makes sense any longer. What once was so true-to-life becomes something akin to the hallucinatory descent of divine justice -- a bad trip, a fever dream. "Yeah, you're off to the guillotine because you didn't cry at your mom's funeral. What kind of monster are you?" The most parsimonious interpretation is that the narrator has simply lost his mind.
Don't even get me started on the fact that every reviewer thinks that Mersault was executed, when that never actually happens in the book, and would result in him not being able to write the book in the first place. (Further confused by the variety of tenses used in the construction of the prose.) The book, which is written something like a memoir, ends with his appeal still pending, and the prison chaplain "sure of its success."
As to the critiques, the Orientalist one is in Edward Said's "Culture and Imperialism" but I don't think that the full version is online. As I recall, it basically concerned point (e) above, and noted that the trial would not have happened -- so the notion of the trial may be a sort of cope.
Your analogy of divine justice struck me as rather fitting! Before the trial, the magistrate brandishes the cross to Meursault and demands that Meursault believe that he will be forgiven, lest the magistrate's life lack meaning. Meursault, although "forced" into saying that such a god exists, denies that such a god, a divine judgment, could give life meaning. His position reflects Camus' as Camus believes that hope of finding meaning (god) is ultimately just a way to postpone nihilism, not to overcome it. The point of the trial wasn't to be logical or make sense, as the irrational instinctual human response to the absurd is what characterizes the trial. There's a shift in the jury when Meursault states that he shot the attacker a few times, then a few times again when they were on the ground. Again, Meursault's trial is a reflection of the human struggle against the absurd. Some bring god, others bring human ethics and emotions, but it is ultimately humans dealing with the absurd irrationally. For the execution point, I find that it actually doesn't matter whether the execution has gone through or not. Meursault already denies any sense of hope (reflecting his position as the absurd hero), rather, embracing the absurd. It is a bit weird if there would be a focus on the end result, which I don't really think matters, to the reader nor Meursault. Addressing the juxtoposition of the first and second parts, I think the first part was an exploration of the absurd hero's life, and the second part was more of the reaction to the absurd hero by society. I'm not the smartest, so I find it hard to fit the distinction. At least, I enjoyed reading the novel :D
Again, maybe this is just cope for bad writing but the fundamental absurdity of the trial, which you have clearly shown, is one of the points of the novel. It's more a philosophical treatise disguised as a novel really. The prose is supposed to reflect someone who is a stranger to us, and the plot is supposed to evoke feelings of incredulity into the reader!
P.S. -> thanks for the critiques!
I've only read it once, which was last year, and I thought Meursalt's indifference to his life and those around him was then directed back on to him through the trial (which I didn't consider absurd at all.)
In that way he is more representative of the society that has placed him on trial than anyone else in it.
> Meursault already denies any sense of hope (reflecting his position as the absurd hero), rather, embracing the absurd. It is a bit weird if there would be a focus on the end result, which I don't really think matters, to the reader nor Meursault.
This is emphatically not the case, though! Not only does he not deny any sense of hope, he dwells on his hope. He practically lives on it.
I'll quote from the book:
"There were two other things about which I was always thinking: the dawn and my appeal. . .
"Then all day there was my appeal to think about. I made the most of this idea, studying my effects so as to squeeze out the maximum of consolation. . .
"I gave myself leave, to consider the other alternative; that my appeal was successful. And then the trouble was to calm down that sudden rush of joy racing through my body and even bringing tears to my eyes."
The prison scenes mostly concern how he alternates between clinging to hope and distracting his mind. He merely claims to lose hope in the book's very last paragraph, and imagines a spectacular public execution. (Something else that's quite weird in itself, as the French banned public executions in 1939 and the book takes place in the 1940s.)
> I think the first part was an exploration of the absurd hero's life, and the second part was more of the reaction to the absurd hero by society.
This is by no means clear, as I don't think that Mersault is a well-defined "absurd hero" (VERY subtle differences in framing, and more introspective narration, would have you believe that he's the perfect bourgeois citizen!) nor is the "reaction by society" at all credible.
I read it for the first time a couple months ago. How I remember the prison scenes was that he felt the emotions happening buy he didn't connect to them. His emotions had as little meaning to him as the trial had, as the murder had, as his girlfriend had, and as his mother had. He just describes what's going on, and because he's locked up in a cell the only thing going on is inside him, but still he does not connect to it. He didn't connect to the world that was outside him, and he doesn't connect to the world that's inside him.
To me the weirdest part of the book, that I find out of character, is that he went along to write that letter for his neighbor, and to aid his neighbor at the police station. If you care so little about anything, if you're that cool, why don't you pass on that weird neighbor. Just close the door without saying anything and go smoke your sigarettes in the window, you poser.
The only way I can make his acts rhyme is if he's just telling himself how cool he is, but he's a actually a social outcast too cool for school who only wants to hang out with people he thinks are cool, e.g. the "bad boy neighbor". That guy was a certified woman beater. And that's the guy he chooses to associate with?
If anything this is the character Dennis of Always Sunny was based on, especially his highschool years.
When Martin Shkreli first burst onto the scene it reminded me of the trial a bit. Like I really believe a lot of the negative polarization he received was due to his smirk rather than due to his drug pricing per se
Nah, he was a scapegoat so the rest of big pharma could continue to do the exact same shit he did. He was just too noisy about it. "Justice served, we got all the bad guys!"
It’s been a while, but I recall finding The Plague more compelling than The Stranger.
While I agree with Camus’s philosophical points about the absurdity of existence and the indifference of the universe, within the scope of our tiny little lives there is morality and meaning. Taking action to address the suffering caused by an epidemic is meaningful. So are the deaths of an Arab or one’s mother, and the premise that a human would be so alienated that they would feel nothing at them is unconvincing, even if the universe doesn’t care.
There was an essay in The Guardian a couple days ago on a related topic, positing that the essence of the self is the biological body including the brain, rather than the isolated mind. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/jul/30/alive-...
> It’s been a while, but I recall finding The Plague more compelling than The Stranger.
> While I agree with Camus’s philosophical points about the absurdity of existence and the indifference of the universe, within the scope of our tiny little lives there is morality and meaning.
I'm pretty sure later-life (relatively, since he died pretty young) Camus would agree with you. The way I view it, The Stranger was him diagnosing the problem of existential absurdism and The Plague was his answer to what you do about it after he discovered it himself as part of the French resistance.
The Stranger is, IMO, mostly interesting to see how his own views changed over those ~5 years and shouldn't really be an introduction to his philosophy.
Yes, this is the mistake almost everyone makes - stopping at "life is absurd!". The rebel and the plague show how to do something meaningful in spite of that.
I've always pointed the Absurdists to his nobel prize speech as a quick way of showing them that they don't have the slightest idea of what he was talking about. The cognitive dissonance is generally too great, and the leave in a huff.
https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/literature/1957/camus/spee...
I agree. Camus' work was a larger project. One he sadly never finished.
His works (essays, short stories, plays, etc.) build on one another, gradually unfolding an argument: first confronting the absurd, then asking how one should respond to it, and later exploring what it means to live and act in spite of it.
Speaking of the orientalist critique I recommend The Meursault Investigation by Kamel Daoud
I heard of Camus around 1985 when I started listening to the Cure. For several years, I collected Cure records, saw the Cure live, and the Cure was near the top of my obsessions. I heard all about the controversy of their single, "Killing An Arab", how it had been introduced on the radio, and how it gained a disclaimer sticker.
I eventually read the first 3 pages of The Stranger and then I stopped. I also never read any Baudelaire or Charlotte Sometimes. I am probably in the majority of Cure fans in the United States.
FWiW you couldn't go to an Australian pub in the 1980s without running into a band drawing on French philosophy / poetry.
eg: Paul Kelly and the Coloured Girls at the Hopetoun Hotel in '86 riffing on lines from Arthur Rimbaud
* https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrTGWrQ4YGs
* https://www.paulkelly.com.au/lyric/the-execution/
* https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Rimbaud
I am intrigued and wonder why you stopped at the third page?
The books I prefer to read are YA fantasy, science fiction, The Chronicles of Narnia, Robert Heinlein, Larry Niven, Clarke, Asimov, Michael Crichton, and so forth.
Mostly, action/adventure plots that are set in fantasy universes, from American/British authors.
I have also read Catholic philosophy, such as St. Thomas Aquinas.
I was curious about Camus' writing style and to see what had inspired Robert Smith to write his lyrics, but I wasn't interested in the philosophy of existentialism, or the gritty reality, or the setting. I don't really like France or French things at all.
Trivia about "Killing An Arab": on the single/studio version, the very last lyrics Robert Smith nearly mumbles: "oh, Mersault!"
His position regarding Algeria says everything.
I quite enjoyed The Stranger
I don't think there is a Sienfeld without The Stranger
I read it but I didn't really get why its so hyped/mindblowing
It may just be a Seinfeld Effect for me though
I get that in the context of literature its quite a unique story/take but I just felt like the concept of life being meaningless/absurd is kind of a tired trope for younger generations
Especially if you are someone who grew up on the internet, depression/meaninglessness was like a mainstream meme in the last decade
It is quite accessible and is read by teenagers during their angst. It appeals to people become it is a simple premise that gives simple choices to the reader.
Hm, Absurdity is an interesting concept, M. Camus. Thank you for posting it to HN, I have looked through the docs and I got curious.
How does it compare with Buddhism of Siddharta Guatama and the preceding buddhas, or Stoicism by Zeno? I have been a big fan of Stoicism 2.0 by Marcus Aurelius. Why should one continue to download and install Absurdity? Can anyone who’s been running Absurdity in production do a comparison of its features vs the existing philosophies ..
The SEP article on Camus will answer most questions wrt Camus, absurdity[0].
[0] https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/camus/
Camus would call Buddhism, and other religions, "philosophical suicide", because you're basically believing in a made-up justification for your existence and what its purpose is.
Stoicism is a guide on how you should live your life: stay in the place that was given to you at birth, and be satisfied from it. So Camus would call it "philosophical suicide" too.
Camus commands you to accept fully that your life has no purpose despite how bad you would like the Universe to give you one, and then choose to continue living on anyway. This desire for meaning vs the lack of answer from the Universe is what Camus labels "absurd".
Camus saw the problem (or got close to it) but kept it. He noticed the craving for meaning, noticed the world won't answer it, and then chose to hold on to the craving anyway and call that defiance freedom. That's just suffering with extra steps and rationalizing it.
The buddha didn't offer a "justification for existence." He pointed out that the demand for one is the problem (part of it anyway). You crave meaning, the craving hurts, so abandon the craving (not just for meaning and not by an act of will). Camus couldn't conceive of that, so he made a virtue out of carrying the boulder
At least for me, the idea of giving up the craving for _everything_ seems to be rather...undesireable. I'd argue that a futile existence, with full knowledge that it is futile but living anyways, is much more "life-affirming" than giving up all desire. I want to feel, to touch, to yearn. Even if those don't mean anything, I think it's much better to do rather than to not do. And I think that humans, more than anything, want to feel alive. That's why we can never abandon that craving, why we must live with it and surpass it rather than retreating from it.
I wrote the following and then realized it sounds a little pretentious, but I think it get my point across regardless. Also, I’m not a scholar of Buddhism or a practicing Buddhist, so I could be grossly generalizing or misunderstanding what I have read, but I believe I’m not to far off base.
I think the Buddhist reply would be that living without craving and without yearning leads to truly being ‘alive’ and enables one to feel, to touch, and to experience the world as it is and in the immeasurably short time a person is alive within it. An existence where the present is experienced and cherished in the moment of having it, while knowing and accepting the inevitability of this moments ending. Such a life, in the Buddhist tradition, embodies the knowing and accepting of the ultimate emptiness of reality and then proceed to live, not in spite of the emptiness, but in the full appreciation of the act of living.
Huh, haven't looked at it that way. I'm just not sure about the leap from a lack of craving allows us to truly experience the world. As a general rule, I think humans want more. We usually aren't satisfied with "okay enough" and is what led us to do basically everything we have done. Nobody does something if they don't have a motivation to do it. I think that desire is so fundamental to life that to lead life without desire is empty, but I can definitely see how chasing your desires can blind yourself to everything else.
You can probably fairly trivially prove their claim to yourself with 1-2 months of 10-20min daily of meditation.
There's a reason it's often referred to as "waking up." The essential claim is a bit broader than what it seems like you're picking up. It's not craving = blinding. Or rather that's the most extreme end of the spectrum.
It's that we are effectively going through life in a dreamlike state. We are so preoccupied with the contents of our mind that we effectively "shut out" nearly everything about the actual world. Actually clearing your mind feels quite nearly identical to the sensation of waking up from sleep into the waking world.
A bit of practice meditating, I think you will come to prove them correct. It really is incredible how constantly-full a person's mind is, and the degree to which that distracts them from what's really going on.
Note that what Buddhists call suffering or craving is a far, far more expansive set of things than what you would intuitively describe as such. So I think they can mislead into this craving = blindness extremity.
It's slightly too broad, but probably closer to say "thinking [preoccupation with the contents of your mind] = distraction [from the real experience of being your mind]"
Thanks for your explanations, It some times feels everyone's reality is mostly their POV from what's going on on their brain.
Two person on the same exact physical circumstances can experience the same events in highly different meanings and the "World" remains the same shared constant, but how you "Percieve" such events in the world ain't.
or something like that.
If you substitute "clinging" for "craving" (Burbea's Seeing that Frees expounds on this very clearly) then I think we get a better English interpretation of the material.
If the mind's full of clinging (either in demanding what isn't present or refusing to release what was present but which is now leaving the present) then that mind doesn't have any room left to experience aliveness.
So (to me) the material doesn't suggest asceticism or abandoning the human sensual potential, it reminds that clinging will sneak in and take over the mental cycles, undermining your ability to live to that potential.
The way you phrased your second block, particularly your last sentence is exceptional. I’m not sure if I agree with the substance (I’m pretty sure I’m about 90% there), but the phrasing is very emphatic.
A lot of discussions I’ve seen, and taken part in, when focusing on Camus and his cadre of fellows lead to a comparison between Buddhist thought and existentialist thought. I tend to side closer to the Buddhist outlook and acceptance of the ground truth of sunyata (often translated ‘emptiness’) versus the more modern tendency toward western Nihilism as a response to the Absurd. The depths of response in people and their dealings with these thoughts and feelings interest me, but I also like to watch people choosing between descriptions of Absurdity to try and make it a completely different concept to the Buddhist ideas.
I’m not sure I agree that ‘Camus couldn’t conceive of’ the Buddhist response to the inherent tension arising from craving ultimate meaning where none is possible; however, he and the other existentialists certainly went to great written lengths to seemingly avoid finding the Buddha’s answer.
I think Reality is so big, you can superimpose any Quality (Absurdism, Discordianism, Hedonism, Lovecraftian Horror, Bhakti Devotion, Theatre metaphors, Infinite Games metaphors, etc). The way I think is : all these qualities are of a subset and we are applying these qualities to a superset through morphing step by step. One just has to be clever enough with words.
Camus would laugh at what the world has become.