The myth of Sisyphus & the meaning of work.
A quick announcement. We’ve launched an online community for men (Kinship), a place for self-discovery, wisdom and connection, drawing on our last 3 years of facilitating men’s groups. You can find out more here.
In Greek mythology, Sisyphus was a king who betrayed Zeus by revealing him to be the kidnapper of another gods daughter. To punish him for his indiscretion, Zeus cast Sisyphus into the Underworld to eternally push a boulder uphill.
As soon as the boulder reached the top of this hill, it would roll off, back to the bottom where Sisyphus had to push it back again. Until the end of time, Sisyphus was condemned to keep pushing the boulder to the top of the hill.
This myth, the origin of the term Sisyphean, has come to symbolise work, or a life, that is endless and futile. At the same time, it is also regarded a symbol of the human spirit, the persistence and resilience that is inherent in being Sisyphean. It poses the existential question that leaves so many of us feeling queasy - why am I here?
This myth influenced French philosopher Albert Camus, who saw Sisyphus' unyielding labor as a metaphor for the human struggle against the absurdity of life, a cornerstone concept in existentialist philosophy. Camus describes him as the “absurd hero”, a man whose life appears to be a ceaselessly unimportant existence and yet carries some flavour of honour and nobility.
Camus sees the deepest tragedy in Sisyphus coming from his own awareness. It is when he is most awake to his lot that he is most tortured - that period when he must walk back down the hill to begin again: “I see that man going back down with a heavy yet measured step toward the torment of which he will never know the end. That hour like a breathing-space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness.”
The “hour like a breathing space” feels uncannily like the modern ‘lunch hour’, the brief window that offers the possibility for introspection and reflection, and yet, under the weight of modern busyness, has become a precious and rare occurrence, an act that might even signify some form of rebellion or laziness. We have probably all witnessed, or participated in, the tragic spectacle of a man wolfing down takeaway sandwiches at his desk, whilst scrolling his emails.
And perhaps too, it is our own avoidance of this breathing space because of what might arise in that liminality. As Camus suggests, if the myth is tragic “that is because its hero is conscious”. Far better to keep grinding the boulder up the hill, cheek to stone, immersed and unconscious.
In his final analysis though, Camus sees this acceptance as a source of joy for Sisyphus, “his fate belongs to him”. He has accepted his lot, his work has no ambiguity and he is ultimately masterless in his unrelenting devotion to his task.
It is no coincidence that this myth, despite being one of the lesser great Greek myths, has entered everyday language, for it speaks to the experience that so many recognise in endless and pointless work.
It also depicts a masculine archetype that many men identify with, that of the enslaved and suffering worker, going about his repetitive tasks in silence and out of sight.
In the 2022 film ‘Living’ (a remake of a 1952 Japanese original, ‘Ikiru’), we see a Sisyphean character called Mr. Williams played by Bill Nighy. Williams is a bland, beaten-down civil servant in 1950s London. His days are repetitions of the same tasks, the same people, the same lunch, the same train to and from the office.
His work is pointless, or perhaps more accurately, has been made to feel pointless and without satisfaction. We see Mr. Williams and those he manages, endlessly shuffling planning applications around departments, often to avoid actually doing anything about them. It is a vivid depiction of the “bullshit jobs” that David Graeber describes.
Nighy’s home life offers no respite. His son and daughter-in-law, who live with him, see him only as a robotic figure, a wage slave who they themselves are eager to inherit wealth from. They know little of each other’s inner lives or emotions of any kind.
And so it will go on, the institutionalised Mr. Williams presumably trudging slowly towards retirement and then death. But this is disrupted when he receives a terminal diagnosis. He has six months to live.
We all know what happens next. Our hero tears up the dry repetitive script of his life. He lets the boulder roll down and refuses to push it any longer. He seeks meaning and he finds purpose. He begins to learn how to live again.
Noting this phenomenon, with a kind of fury, the author Steven Pressfield remarks on what is required for some of us to awaken from our drudgery, taking the example of a person diagnosed with cancer who finally overcomes their resistance to living freely: “Is that what it takes? Do we have to stare death in the face to make us stand up and confront Resistance? Does Resistance have to cripple and disfigure our lives before we wake up to its existence? How many of us have become drunks and drug addicts, developed tumors and neuroses, succumbed to painkillers, gossip, and compulsive cell phone use, simply because we don't do that thing that our hearts, our inner genius, is calling us to?”
Providing another perspective on work and meaning, the beautiful 2023 film ‘Perfect Days’ depicts a protagonist, Hirayama, who sits somewhere between Sisyphus and Mr. Williams. He lives in present-day Tokyo, and works as a cleaner of public toilets. He is in late middle age, single with no kids, deeply introverted and spends most of his time in solitude.
Each of his ‘perfect days’ is framed by repetition and defined by simplicity. He doesn’t own a clock, rises at dawn each day, wears the same clothes every day, follows the same daily and weekly routines. His most regular interactions are with the small plants that he cultivates in his two-room apartment, spraying them each morning with tender care before he leaves for work.
Yet his existence is rich in connection, purpose, variety and joy. He find these things in the most minuscule of tasks and moments - noticing the shadows cast by trees, listening to soulful cassette tapes in his van, inordinately fastidious in how he cleans a toilet bowl (he even uses a small mirror), warmly greeted every day by the owner of a noodle bar despite barely speaking.
As we see as the story unfold, his life is not completely free from personal pain and difficulty, but what gives Hirayama a heroic quality is his approach to life - each moment is to be savoured because it is precious if we choose to make it precious. Hirayama approaches his work with devotion and absorption.
The film invites us to consider what judgments we, and society, might make about work as humble as cleaning toilets. As Graeber points out, society would notice very quickly if garbage collectors, street sweepers and toilet cleaners disappeared. In that sense, these jobs hold real societal value and meaning, as opposed to the pointless work of bullshit jobs that inflict a “profound psychological violence”, devoid as they are of not only meaning but dignity.
Our culture has long embedded the notion that the male role is to quietly grind away at work, exchanging labour for payment simply to fulfil an expectation of masculinity. To provide for others might be noble and meaningful, yet it cannot truly be so if it comes at the expense of one’s soul and health.
And yet we keep pushing the boulder uphill, perhaps unsure what else to do, perhaps lacking the courage to let go, perhaps fearful of being shamed by others as lazy and unproductive.
Are we Sisyphus? Are we Mr. Williams? Are we Hirayama? None provide a perfect answer - each requires us to consider how consciously we take up our task, why we are doing it and what we are sacrificing in return.
It serves all of us to consider the role of our work, for in doing so there is the promise of an existence unshackled from the straitjacket we might unwittingly be wearing. A free, vibrant and meaningful life awaits us all on the other side of these explorations, if we can muster the courage to stray from the herd.
As a character in Living observes of Mr. Williams, “he has decided to grasp life, and we have to admire him for it”.
“Women have rightly challenged the narrow range of womanhood endorsed by the culture they received. It is equally necessary for men to engage in a radical review of their lives and their relationship to the images and voices that would direct them. Men still carry a large economic burden, for example, but they must increasingly fight for the conditions that enable them to pull the money wagon with dignity and with purpose. And they must increasingly be willing to risk all to save what remains of their soul.”
- James Hollis
References:
Camus, A. (1942). The Myth of Sisyphus. Éditions Gallimard
Graeber, D. (2013). On the Phenomenon of Bullshit Jobs. STRIKE! Magazine, [online] (3), Aug. Available at: https://strikemag.org/bullshit-jobs/ [Accessed 15 Feb. 2024].
GreekMythology.com (2015). Sisyphus - Greek Mythology. [online] Greekmythology.com. Available at: https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/Mortals/Sisyphus/sisyphus.html.
Hamilton, E. (2013). Mythology. New York: Little, Brown
Pressfield, S. (2002). The War of Art. Black Irish Entertainment LLC.