the myth of sysiphus

6

“I conclude that all is well,” says Oedipus, and that remark is sacred. It echoes in the wild and limited universe of man. It teaches that all is not, has not been, exhausted. It drives out of this world a god who had come into it with dissatisfaction and a preference for futile suffering. It makes of fate a human matter, which must be settled among men. — The Myth of Sysiphus 

disconnectedand-restless  asked:

I'm putting together summer reading list should I start with Dostoyevsky, Camus, or Kafka? And which book do you recommend for each?

I would recommend starting out with Dostoyevsky’s Crime And Punishment (or Notes From Underground if you want something shorter). and then The Brothers Karmazov or The Idiot.

Camus: The Stranger, then The Plague, and The Fall  ( you should also read his essay The Myth Of Sysiphus if you want to understand his Absurdism)

Kafka: Metamorphosis, then The Trial and The Judgment.

I hope you enjoy it :)

anonymous asked:

I just read your G&M series and I'm so happy bc one of my favorite myth is the Sysiphus one and now Ares coming to Thanatos rescue is literally a bf saving another bf in the great map of Hades's love interests. I love you and thank you!!!!

lol thank you!!!

Likewise and during every day of an unillustrious life, time carries us. But a moment always comes when we have to carry it. We live on the future: “tomorrow”, “later on”, “when you have made your way”, “you will understand when you are old enough”. Such irrelevancies are wonderful, for, after all it’s a matter of dying. Yet a time comes when a man notices or says that he is thirty. Thus he asserts his youth. But simultaneously he situates himself in relation to time. He takes his place in it. He admits that he stands at a certain point on a curve that he acknowledges having to travel to its end. He belongs to time and, by the horror that seizes him, he recognizes his worst enemy. Tomorrow, he was longing for tomorrow, whereas everything in him ought to reject it. The revolt of the flesh is the absurd.
—  “The Myth of Sisyphus” - Albert Camus