The Myth of Sisyphus

I had been wanting to read this book for some time, in the end I received it from Mirza as a gift, much appreciated.

Some general remarks. I find it funny, and some kind of weird flex, that the myth of Sisyphus is not mentioned nor hinted at at all until the very end of the book, and then just in a short chapter (Pages 93 to 96, 96 is the last page. Then there is an appendix; I haven't read it). The only sentence I know of the book - let me record here the French version: il faut imaginer Sisyphe heureux - is the very last sentence in this very last chapter, it felt (fittingly) absurd to read the whole book waiting for this sentence, and then, as soon as it arrived, the book was suddenly over.

More impressions: it seems apparent that it is written by a sensitive young man. I am not sure whether aging damages us or enriches us - arguably a bit of both but a bit more of the first -, but for sure even as it spoils us it gives us some flavour, and while we lose some of the capabilities of the youth we remember having them and how it felt - the youth does not know what it is like to be older, not having experienced it. I assume this happens at all ages. I still remember very vividly meeting a frail, old man in front of a retirement home (he wanted to visit his wife, who was living there). He had clear blue eyes and asked me how long I had been living in Germany, I spontaneously answered: a very long time, ten years, and the man just smiled and I blushed. There is a kind of grace of the elderly that can only be acquired by letting time run over us, I feel, and it seems to be reached whenever one does not get bitter as time passes by. I heard in a podcast Baricco saying of his critics and adversaries: non sono riusciti a fermarmi, ma mi hanno fatto diventare cattivo. I often think about it.

One thing I wanted to write: it seems (among other things) apparent that it is written by a sensitive young man because it does not talk about children, the whole book is very curved upon itself, individualist. I will go through the quotes I marked in a second, but I think somewhere is written that the absurd is the result of the encounter of the rational mind with the external world. It seems to me that the alliance of minds conscious of the absurd and rebelling against it à la Sisyphe is something worth considering, as is the act of raising more rebel minds. This would be a way to give meaning to life and avoid physical and/or intellectual suicide. This does not go in contradiction with anything in the book, which is self-consistent and solid in itself, I just find it curious that the perspective is completely missing, like a blind spot, something that did not cross the author's mind. Or it did not cross the author's mind that it would be worth talking about. But I am not an expert, I might have overlooked something, my judgement might be unfair. This anyway.

The book is very quotable, rich in one-liners. Here are the ones I collected:

I have never seen anyone die for the ontological argument.

The worm is in man's heart. That is where it must be sought.

All great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning.

One of the only coherent philosophical positions is thus revolt.

Weighing words carefully, it is altogether a question of luck.

A fate is not a punishment.

Knowing that there are no victorious causes, I have a like for lost causes.

Death is the supreme abuse.

There is so much stubborn hope in the human heart.

There is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn.

Ancient wisdom confirms modern heroism.

This is a passage I particularly liked:

And here are trees and I know their gnarled surface, water and I feel its taste. These scents of grass and stars at night, certain evenings when the heart relaxes - how shall I negate this world whose power and strength I feel? Yet all the knowledge on earth will give me nothing to assure me that this world is mine. You describe it to me and you teach me to classify it. You enumerate its laws and in my thirst for knowledge I admit that they are true. You take apart its mechanism and my hope increases. At the final stage you teach me that this wondrous and multi-coloured universe can be reduced to the atom and that the atom itself can be reduced to the electron. All this is good and I wait for you to continue. But you tell me of an invisible planetary system in which electrons gravitate around a nucleus. You explain this world to me with an image. I realise then that you have been reduced to poetry: I shall never know. Have I the time to become indignant? You have already changed theories. So that science that was to teach me everything ends up in a hypothesis, that lucidity founders in metaphor, that uncertainty is resolved in a work of art.

I would say that "work of art" here is particularly well placed if we link the "art" with "artificial"; then the opposition to nature is complete.