Camus calls it a “breathing-space” and “the hour of consciousness.” As Sisyphus makes his descent, he is free to reflect, to think. The myth provides some basic ingredients, as it were, and with them we create an entire meal.Ĭamus’ imagination is piqued by the very slight reprieve Sisyphus gets from his physical labor whenever he must walk back down the mountain to retrieve his boulder. “Myths,” Camus claims, “are made for the imagination to breathe life into them.” Human beings are imaginative, creative beings, and when we breathe life into a myth, we make it meaningful in a way that is relevant to our time, our struggles, our situation. As I see it, we see in Sisyphus something of ourselves, and since we make this connection our own happiness depends on whether Sisyphus can be happy. Perhaps it is imperative that we imagine Sisyphus happy because by doing so we affirm our own freedom to think, to control our attitude, our mindset. Why, then, is it imperative that we imagine Sisyphus happy? His punishment eternal, Sisyphus will perform the same task, again and again, forever. What are we supposed to imagine that would somehow warrant imagining Sisyphus happy? Why does Camus focus on this myth, on Sisyphus, when he could have presumably focused on some other character, some other tale?Īt the end of the myth, Camus points out that we leave Sisyphus with his burden, his boulder. Nothing about Sisyphus’ situation screams happiness. He is being punished by the gods, and they are to blame for his torment. Everything seems certain, his fate has been sealed, it is the penalty for his disobedience. Each time he ascends the mountain, he struggles under the weight of the boulder. Sisyphus knows he will labor with his boulder until the end of time. His labor, as the gods intended, is utterly pointless and hopeless.
The boulder always rolls back down the mountain…Sisyphus never successfully completes his task. When he reaches the top, the boulder rolls back down and Sisyphus must return to it to begin again. He is forced to push a boulder up a mountain. The gods condemned Sisyphus to an eternity of pointless labor. Each time I revisit Albert Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus, I find myself drawn to the final line: “One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”