ABSURDISM AS A PHILOSOPHY. PART II.

“Man is born to live, and not to prepare for life.”

This deeply philosophical gem from Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago has been superficially interpreted, particularly in the West, as Pasternak’s criticism of Soviet Communist utopianism, with its emphasis on the future at the expense of the present. Less attention here is given to the fact that this “criticism” can be just as much addressed to all Christian religion, with its eschatological emphasis on the afterlife at the expense of the here and now. Yet, Pasternak was a profoundly religious man of assimilated Jewish extraction, raised in the Russian Christian Orthodox tradition, and as such he has always been embraced by the Russian Orthodox Church, despite his ostensible doctrinal attack on Christian/Communist wishful thinking.

Pasternak is important in this entry on Absurdism, because what he says here, circa 1955, sounds very much like what Camus had to say back in 1942, in his Myth of Sisyphus. But whereas Pasternak does not seem to offer a clear answer to the problem, Camus’s solution is all there, for everybody to see: accept the absurdity of life for what it is, enjoy this absurdity, and thus find happiness: even Sisyphus can be happy, having accepted such a solution!

…Mind you, this is not a political or theological statement of some sort, but pure deep philosophy. By the same token as the Russian Church has seen no offense in Pasternak’s attack on one of its basic tenets, the philosophy of Absurdism is not an atheistic statement, either. It is merely an invitation to think with an expanded horizon, and surely this kind of expanded thought cannot possibly derail a sincere believer from his road to the hereafter, but, on the contrary, should strengthen his faith by strengthening his power of reason. This is not to say, of course, that Camus was a closet believer in God, which was probably not the case, but only that his philosophy of Absurdism, even though heavily permeated with Christian terminology and symbolism, does not really intrude in, or incompatibly contradict, the Christian or any other religious doctrine.

Camus’ essay The Myth of Sisyphus is an exceptional work of philosophy. My initial intent was to include its retelling in this entry, making it “informative,” as earlier promised, but on last thought I chose against it. I would rather encourage the reader to read the whole essay than try to fit it into a capsule, which was exactly what I did in the original version of this entry. Meanwhile, I shall limit myself to just a few words of my own here.

Camus’ challenge in Sisyphus is not to God, but to man. Trying to find a meaning in the world around us is a folly: the world is a hard, inhospitable place which cannot be understood through reason or science. (Isn’t this awfully consistent with Christian theology, which installs Satan as the ruler of the world?) We tend to build our life on the hope for a better tomorrow, but tomorrow is actually our enemy. Our friend is today, as today we are alive, whereas tomorrow we may be dead…

So, does Camus want us to “abandon hope,” bringing forth a disturbing Dantian association? Curiously, we could find a strong similarity here with the classic Christian insistence on repenting today, thus, effectively, “abandoning hope” of repenting tomorrow, as tomorrow may be too late (Matthew 25:1-13).

This is by no means to say that Camus is quoting from the Scriptures, but only that the atheist philosopher Camus and religion are not that incompatible, as no genuine philosophy is ever incompatible with genuine religion.

…Another point, or rather a restatement of Camus’ key point, is that the world in itself is by no means absurd. It is only when our natural quest for understanding the world meets its inherent illogic, that absurdity reveals itself. There are certain ways to address this inevitable state of absurdity: by complete frustration, depression, and eventual suicide; or by an attempt to escape from it via irrational means, such as hope, etc., which only perpetuates absurdity, instead of overcoming it. Camus’ positive solution is to accept the absurd, to embrace it as a delightful philosophical conundrum, thus not succumbing to it, but mastering it! Can you sense the hidden undertones of the Christian solution of conquering death by death? Here, once again, is our “atheist philosopher” Camus by no means incompatible with Christianity. As I am compelled to repeat, no genuine philosophy is ever incompatible with genuine religion!

So where is Sisyphus here? Yes, here he comes. Let us not be shocked by Sisyphus’ plight in hell, but let us identify with Sisyphus, see a Sisyphus inside us. And by our pursuit of Sisyphus’ happiness, we shall find our own.

“…All Sisyphus’ silent joy is contained therein. His fate belongs to him. His rock is his thing. Likewise, the absurd man, when he contemplates his torment, silences all the idols. In the universe suddenly restored to 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 effort 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 silent pivoting, he contemplates that series of unrelated actions, which becomes 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.”

…In conclusion of this entry, we may return to where we started. We may suggest a possibility that both Camus and Pasternak may be attacking capitalism, with its mentality of saving for the rainy tomorrow, no less than they are attacking either communism or Christianity. But we are obviously not going that far, emphasizing only the generalness of their common point, which, I repeat, has a general philosophical significance, and must not be crudely reduced to an attack on anything in particular.