This Absurd Life
I’ve been thinking about the condition of my life. Its absurdity. On the one hand, I take things so seriously; I take myself seriously. I believe I am a writer, I create this website, with its fresh and optimistic colour and design, and I make polite postings on matters I find serious. I think about writing, I contemplate it, I wonder about technique and rhythm, I wonder about content and experience, I wonder about the process, about how a sentence should be constructed for best effect. I do all of this. And all of this I do in a life which I take to be serious and meaningful.
And then, on the other hand, comes the strange, desolate feeling of doing all this in a…void. There is no care and no response to what I do, not from the universe, there is no foundation for all of this, nothing at all; after death, I could be forgotten. I would not be the first! You know where I’m heading with all of this, I’m heading to that one problem, the big questions: What is the point?
This is the absurd.
There are three notable works on the absurd:
1. “The Myth of Sisyphus” written by Albert Camus in 1942.
2. “Good and Evil” written by Richard Taylor 1970.
2. “The Absurd” written by Thomas Nagel in 1971.
Googling, I found an excellent article by Dr Russell Blackford, “Sisyphus and the Meaning of Life,” published in the Australian journal Quadrant in October 2003. Blackford summarises Camus’ thesis, as:
He suggests that, when we contemplate the universe with “lucidity”, we feel “an alien, a stranger”. It is this “incalculable feeling” of “divorce” between us and the universe that he refers to as absurdity, and he associates it with the sense that there is no “profound reason for living”.
And also summarises Nagel’s thesis, as:
Nagel himself, by contrast, explains clearly that he finds absurdity in “the collision between the seriousness with which we take our lives” and the impossibility, as he sees it, of finding any ultimate foundation for the “whole system of justification and criticism” that supports our activities, projects and beliefs.
Camus uses the myth of Sisyphus (punished by the gods to forever roll a heavy boulder up a hill) to illustrate the absurd condition of our lives. Richard Taylor examines the myth, too. He concludes that our lives and the activities with which we occupy ourselves are always meaningless, and “nothing comes of” the work. It is always pointless.
Blackwell explains that even if Sisyphus enjoyed the work of rolling the boulder up the hill that it would still, according to Taylor, not give any meaning to his life. Not in the sense that we hope for, some sort of recognition from the universe, some sort of greater meaning and purpose. Never. Blackford quotes Taylor saying that “The meaning of life is from within us.” That is all we can ever hope for.
I often feel like Sisyphus when I sit here at my keyboard and write things. It is certainly a punishment, is it not, to be able to think and write and wonder and yet to know that none of it, really, has any meaning beyond the temporal. Nikos Kazantzakis was also problematised with the absurd. (Interestingly, in 1957 he lost the Nobel to Camus, who said that Kazantzakis deserved it infinitely more than he.) Kazantzakis really wanted to leave something behind. While recognising the absurdity of life he maintained that one must keep on fighting even while knowing that one will lose in the end. (Note to self: Not well paraphrased - must find original).
So, I remain, like Sisyphus, optimistic and meaningful as I push the boulder upwards; melancholy and desolate as it rolls down the hill, once more.
I have changed the name of the site. My own name–its garish, cursive pronouncement–seemed too absurd right now.
The boulder is rolling down again, I must run.
Posted by By: kathryn | 
2006/05/13 | Philosophy - Personal - Writing | Trackback | Comments [RSS 2.0]
So, yes, we do construct meaning in our lives. Sure, we can’t live otherwise, or we can’t live as social beings unless there is some sort of meaning, structure, value, or belief in the society in which we participate. As far as the universe goes, I do agree with you when you say that we can’t know anything for certain, not in an absolute, timeless sense. Still, I wonder about the agnostic position. It is certainly a valid position when it comes to the awesome question of God and the universe, but how often do we take an agnostic stance in our daily lives when absolute truths are equally hidden from us? Say, for example, in our dealings with other people, in falling in love, getting married, etc. We do all this based on facts available to us at a particular time. Whether our partner will change or reveal a secret that impacts on the way we love them is something we do not know now and yet we proceed. Scientists do this, too. They conclude things based on facts available to them at a given time. When facts change so too do conclusions made. What I’m wondering is - are there are enough facts and figures about us to help us make informed decisions about the state of the universe and our place in it? Certainly, whatever conclusions we make won’t be absolute, they can be refuted at any time when new facts and figures come to our knowledge. But shouldn’t we at least have a belief or opinion? Or do we really get caught up in dogmatic thinking if we do this? 