I am by
far a greater fan of Master of the Absurd, Franz Kafka, who laments
in his writings about the nature of man and his limitations, but I
could not help but think of Albert
Camus' essay about The
Myth of Sisyphus concerning the subject of futility and
expectation. Can his writing help us find some footing in recovery
from trauma so that we can build some type of stability? Trauma robs
us of our sense of safety, causes us to feel isolated, and it obscures our memories of stability if we truly had any as a starting
point. Trauma causes us to realize the reality of our fragile nature
and alienates us from optimism.
This
theme is of interest to me because of the problem of figuring out how
to fix one's aim when it comes to expectations – especially in
relationships. Camus sees the proverbial glass as half empty, and it
won't be long before the liquid in the glass evaporates. What would
the Apostle Paul recommend for us to consider regarding a glass that
is only half full while there is great need for more help for our
human condition? Sometimes, I feel the weight of Sisyphus rolling
down on me and all of my fantasies because I've been badly burned by
the idea that the glass will soon be full. Can I use the writings of
the atheist of absurdity to figure out how to understand Paul's
admonishment to be content and at peace, despite my very human
circumstances in real life?
I can't
help but recall that I'm not always that idealistic. The picture
that the half empty glass that first pops into my head from my past?
I return to my impossible middle management job in the midst of a bad
nursing shortage when my manager talked to me about focusing on the
soon full glass because I coped too poorly with the same realization
as Camus. The rules for expectation tend to be different when they
apply to me, as my (early) wiring doesn't provide for ease or balance.
Experience has taught me more pessimism, and I used to reach to a
mindless type of optimism with all abandon as a means of coping,
calling it faith. Nursing made the dilemma more significant because
it didn't highlight my own suffering. The half absent resources
meant to me that the lack ultimately passes from me and my
frustration to the sick person in need who has come to me for help.
All that I can really do is comfort the person in need, but is that
enough? Somehow, I must figure out that doing something is far
better than doing nothing. In the process, though, where to I set my
sights? How do I figure out how to aim at a reasonable and
achievable target?
High
demand relationships provide black and white answers for life's
dilemmas, and the party with the most power in them determines that
which is black and that which is white. Providing a promise of clear
answers in an ambiguous world becomes a powerful selling point for
cults when trolling for new members. While I find elements of Camus'
perspective disconcerting he also makes valid, clear statements
amidst the mist of the unknown. (Many Christians find this admission troubling, not to mention Camus' conclusions about man's fate.)
In its own right, his realizations prove to be quite anti-cult. It's a start, at least, and his example helps me demonstrate just how often I find myself pulled in different directions. I crave balance but so often find that I really don't understand what it is. At least he draws something of a map so that I can figure out where I want to be in that Maze of Healing.
In its own right, his realizations prove to be quite anti-cult. It's a start, at least, and his example helps me demonstrate just how often I find myself pulled in different directions. I crave balance but so often find that I really don't understand what it is. At least he draws something of a map so that I can figure out where I want to be in that Maze of Healing.
Sisyphus,
Camus and Futility
Here's
the short version: Sisyphus was a deluded jerk who thought that he was more
clever than Zeus, and he hated death and suppressed death for a time.
Long story and jumping past the different versions of the Greek
myth, Zeus enchants a mighty boulder as eternal punishment for
Sisyphus who is set with the task of pushing the boulder up a hill
only to see it roll down again. His quest for power becomes a task
that demonstrates how empty and powerless such avarice truly is.
The
deluded Sisyphus is apparently happy with his absurd fate of
futility, according to Camus, for he plugs away at his task as he
lives “fully” while never dying and succumbing to that which he
hates. But he never really manages to get anywhere. Camus
identifies Sisyphus as something of a prototype of man -- who like us, is consumed with the process
of living while resisting death. In the middle, we all find much
struggle.
Our
More Modern Myths
I would
say that this is also the grand message that Terry Gilliam conveys in
his last few films, and there's an element of it in the Matrix film
where man refuses to accept the program of a perfect world. Perfection seems to be against our nature. (That's
more the subject of a book or at least another blog post.) Gilliam's
protagonists give in and settle for a type of happy madness that is
not inherently religious but sometimes sexual. The Matrix definitely carries an undefined
religion requiring faith in the process and in its servant of
sacrifice, Neo.
In his
work, Camus chews on the ideas of his contemporaries in philosophy
who arrive at similar conclusions. He declares them all cop outs and therefore non-absurdists who fail to find transcendence of the human condition. Everyone ends up solving the equation with some type of God belief –
either in the manner of an entity or in pure logic as an impersonal type of god that demands homage.
Meanwhile,
Camus highlights the stability and logic that we crave in a world
that is unstable where people often prove to be most illogical a good
bit of the time. We all find ourselves somewhere in the middle,
without answers. In the example of Sisyphus, he finds that man's
heart can be “full” (at peace and at rest) in the process of
life's struggle, even if he knows that it's futile. This seems to be
the conclusion of what it is to be human for Camus. Suicide is not
an option because that would allow death's triumph over life, but what
does Camus do with the awareness of life's futility?
At some
point, Camus muses that there's some kind of contentment that comes
with acceptance. Uh, but how does one find it? Where does one find
that place? That is the mystery.
Does Awareness Make for Transcendence?I've read other works of Camus, and I find him to be much angrier than other writers in his genre with the exception of Sartre who I think is just blooming mad. But as my mostly British grandfather would say, that is probably a function of being French. ;) I get the most hopefulness from Dostoyevski, but I feel like Kafka is something of a soulmate. Camus sees both as irrational men in their conclusions because their hopes defy the reality of their lot in life. He also criticizes Kafka as a genius of noting life's absurdity but for his hopefulness. Camus' best response to false home and awareness of life's futility involves a passionate revolt against death and to do so, one must just put up with the absurdity.
In the
final summation of things and in my interpretation of his writing, I
don't see Camus at a happy man at all, though I love his love of
freedom and his quest for a meaningful life. That doesn't really
work that well for me personally, and Camus died quite young, so I
don't know that he found any real or satisfying solutions. He spent
his days much unlike Sisyphus, pondering his plight as he worked to
find answers in community. I hear a similar hope in the message of
Philip Zimbardo who hopes to inspire people to be better champions of goodness instead of creatures who are readily given to evil through self-absorption. If we human beings are given to
the banality of evil, why can't we learn to be just as given to
heroism?
I share
their goals, but I don't get there by the same method, and I'm not
sure if my expectations are any healthier. I just don't understand
how either Camus or Zimbardo get to that endpoint of hopefulness
without their own type of madness of acceptance. They, too, just
gather the rosebuds while they may, enjoying the work until it draws
to a painful end. What resource can be found to fill that half empty
glass? Can revolt or rallying against evil truly change the
emptiness? I know that I have nothing else with which to fill it in
and of myself, and I am always struggling against that weight. That
may be what it means to be human, but I don't really like the idea
any better than Camus did.
The next post will consider a contrast in an essay by Catherine Marshall
and how she puts the same dilemma into perspective. The reader can
decide which is sublime and which constitutes ridiculousness. I think there's a bit of each in both.
For
further reading until the next post:
- Judith Herman's Trauma and Recovery
- Peter Levine's Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma
