This link has been bookmarked by 15 people . It was first bookmarked on 11 Jul 2006, by Jason.
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25 Mar 15
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They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.
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If one believes Homer, Sisyphus was the wisest and most prudent of mortals. According to another tradition, however, he was disposed to practice the profession of highwayman.
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I see no contradiction in this.
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Homer tells us also that Sisyphus had put Death in chains.
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He ordered her to cast his unburied body into the middle of the public square. Sisyphus woke up in the underworld. And there, annoyed by an obedience so contrary to human love, he obtained from Pluto permission to return to earth in order to chastise his wife. But when he had seen again the face of this world, enjoyed water and sun, warm stones and the sea, he no longer wanted to go back to the infernal darkness.
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Many years more he lived facing the curve of the gulf, the sparkling sea, and the smiles of earth
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ead him forcibly back to the underworld, where his rock was ready for him.
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Sisyphus is the absurd hero.
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This is the price that must be paid for the passions of this earth.
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As for this myth, one sees merely the whole effort of a body straining to raise the huge stone, to roll it, and push it up a slope a hundred times over; one sees the face screwed up, the cheek tight against the stone, the shoulder bracing the clay-covered mass, the foot wedging it, the fresh start with arms outstretched, the wholly human security of two earth-clotted hands. At the very end of his long effort measured by skyless space and time without depth, the purpose is achieved. Then Sisyphus watches the stone rush down in a few moments toward that lower world whence he will have to push it up again toward the summit. He goes back down to the plain.
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It is during that return, that pause, that Sisyphus interests me. A face that toils so close to stones is already stone itself!
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At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock.
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f this myth is tragic, that is because its hero is conscious. Where would his torture be, indeed, if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him?
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The lucidity that was to constitute his torture at the same time crowns his victory. There is no fate that can not be surmounted by scorn.
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gain I fancy Sisyphus returning toward his rock, and the sorrow was in the beginning. When the images of earth cling too tightly to memory, when the call of happiness becomes too insistent, it happens that melancholy arises in man's heart: this is the rock's victory, this is the rock itself. The boundless grief is too heavy to bear.
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These are our nights of Gethsemane.
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Ancient wisdom confirms modern heroism.
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But crushing truths perish from being acknowledged.
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Happiness and the absurd are two sons of the same earth. They are inseparable. It would be a mistake to say that happiness necessarily springs from the absurd. discovery.
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All Sisyphus' silent joy is contained therein. His fate belongs to him. His rock is a thing Likewise, the absurd man, when he contemplates his torment, silences all the idols
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There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night. The absurd man says yes and his efforts will henceforth be unceasing.
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One always finds one's burden again.
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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.
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10 Dec 14
Elizabeth Sims"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. " -
07 May 14
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There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night
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07 Nov 13
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04 Feb 12
totorola"...he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock."
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16 Feb 10
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The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
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The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
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The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
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The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
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The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
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The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
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The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
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The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
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ds had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.
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The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.
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The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.
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The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
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04 Apr 08
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11 Jul 06
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22 Jun 05
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16 Dec 04
tomer lichtashTHE MYTH OF SISYPHUS
philosophy text camus existentialism essay literature mythology sisyphus
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