Sisyphus says no
A Myth
Part I
Sisyphus was a right mean jerk. He ran Ephyra with an iron fist and solely for his own interest – an arrogant, egotistical king known for killing visitors, conspiring against political rivals, spawning children for powerplays and other mean-spirited pastimes. He cheated death twice, he was clever that way, and in so doing angered the gods. If you believe in gods, you shouldn’t anger them. Sisyphus believed in gods, but didn’t change his behavior - it tells you a lot about his character.
Sisyphus so angered the gods by cheating death (and his other affronts), that they decided his curse would be in two parts, 1) he would never die and 2) he would, for eternity, roll a boulder up a mountain alone, only to have it roll down the hill overnight and have to do it again the next day. Leaving aside the first curse (does he age? Does he sleep? Does he eat?), consider the second curse - he is, to this day, still rolling a large boulder up a hill somewhere, waking every morning to find the boulder laying at his feet again. Camus considered this and ultimately found some nobility in the absurdity of it—concluding that we must admire the struggle, if not the man, because we all have daily struggles we face over and over again and there is something noble about trying even if we are doomed to fail.
I think that’s beside the point.
The curse is not pushing the boulder. The curse is ALONE. The Greeks know how to tell a good story—the egotistical, power-hungry autocrat wanted to run a kingdom for himself, his own aggrandizement, and his own benefit – now he does, every day, alone. It is poetic.
Now consider the next village over, the little village of Allophus. The people of Allophus weren’t anything special, they certainly didn’t have all the glory and riches of Ephyra which would later become Corinth. You’ve never even heard of them. They didn’t even get a myth about them, until now. Before all the kerfluffle with the curse, the Allophusians just went about their days, trying to ignore their neighbor, Sisyphus, rolling their eyes when he would issue some new edict, telling their kids not to go and play in Ephyra lest their heads end up on a spike – y’know a usual day in mythic Greece.
Then they wake one morning after a lot of shouting over in Ephyra the night before and discover Sisyphus has a new hobby. At first it is funny, right? The gods sure got him. Everybody enjoys a little shadenfreude. It leads to good conversation over coffee - the gods did their job this time, finally they’ve stopped screwing around (literally figuratively literally) and delivered a little cosmic justice. The Allophusians no doubt poured out a bit of wine for libation or sacrificed a goat to tell the gods to keep up the good work.
Then a few years pass and the Allophusians start feeling sorry for Sisyphus. Every day he’s out there doing the same damn thing. For the Ephyrians it is all a bit raw, so they’re not likely to intervene on Sisyphus’ behalf any time soon, but the Allophusians think he’s had enough, justice has been served. They go over one morning and ask if they can help. They offer to hold the boulder for him, they ask if he’s considered the use of gloves or a wedge, some kind of pulley and rope system -
Sisyphus says no.
My friend Paul has been thinking along the same lines:
© Max B / bureau-crazy.com
