
Before descending to the Underworld of Hades (the god of the dead), he told his wife Merope not to carry out the traditional funereal practices (i.e. However, the king would come to cheat death a second time.
#SISYPHUS PRONUNCIATION FREE#
The war god Ares eventually set Thanatos free and delivered Sisyphus to him. But thanks to his cunning abilities, Sisyphus managed to trap Thanatos in chains in his house. Furious about this betrayal, Zeus sent Thanatos (the god of death) after him. Sisyphus disclosed this secret to Asopus in exchange for an eternal spring to be added to his kingdom. Sisyphus betrayed Zeus by revealing one of the god’s secrets, the whereabouts of Aegina, the daughter of the river god Asopus, who Zeus had kidnapped. The Greek poet Homer described the king Sisyphus as “the most cunning of men” in the Iliad – and it was precisely his craftiness that led to his downfall. But moreover, laughter is perhaps more existentially curative than the purely defiant attitude that characterises Camusian revolt. In fact, I propose that laughter is perhaps the greatest form of existential revolt available to us. I will argue that Camus’ form of revolt, which involves a defiant acceptance of absurdity, without resignation, should also include laughter. In this essay, I do not necessarily want to refute Camus’ recommendation, but I do want to reframe or supplement it. However, Camus offers us a form of salvation, a Camusian kind of existential revolt, which can help us deal with the absurdity of existence. He draws on the ancient Greek myth of King Sisyphus in order to typify what it means to exist as a human in day-to-day life, which is a rather bleak picture it turns out. In his essay The Myth of Sisyphus (1942), the French existentialist Albert Camus lays out his exposition of the human condition.
