For those of you who recall your ancient Greek mythology, you will remember that there was once a place called Mount Olympus where all the great gods lived. According to the Greek poets, the king of the gods was Zeus (or Jupiter), and his queen was a lady named Hera (or Juno), who also happened to be his sister, which was apparently permitted back then. Some of the other gods who had the right to hang out on the mountain top were Apollo (the sun god), Venus (who was in charge of love and beauty), Neptune (the ocean), Mars (war), and Mercury (messages). Among the subordinate deities were Ceres (agriculture), Minerva (wisdom), Vesta (home life), Iris (rainbows), Hebe (the goddess of youth), Hypnos (sleep), and Vulcan (blacksmiths, and the only one who had a death grip to go along with his thunderbolt).
Anyway, according to the poets, there was once a great king who went by the extremely hard-to-pronounce name of Sisyphus. He was said to be the most intelligent and tricky of men, and his schemes even puzzled the ancient gods. He boldly stole their secrets, absolutely refused to be panicked by their admonitions, and showed an alarming disrespect for their many powers. His scorn of the gods, his lack of fear of death, and his passion for life made him, as it has made other like-minded men and women down through the ages, a very dangerous individual indeed.
Sisyphus, however, finally got in a little over his head when he tried to stop Zeus from kidnapping a woman he was celestially interested in, and Zeus immediately sent Death to punish him. But being the ingenious guy he was, Sisyphus somehow tricked Death and even tied him up with chains, no easy feat. And not only did this greatly benefit Sisyphus, but it was said that no other man died while Death was bound.
Pluto (the god of the Lower World) got wind of this through Mercury (who was always passing gossip back and forth) and he sent Mars (the god of war) to free Death and give him complete power over Sisyphus. As you might suspect, it wasn’t long before Sisyphus found himself good and dead and living (that’s probably not the right word) in the Lower World. Sisyphus immediately, and quite bitterly, complained about all of this to Pluto, especially that his wife had not performed the proper burial ceremonies, and demanded that he be allowed to return to the living. Pluto, who was one of the really early chauvinists, agreed that Sisyphus’ wife needed to be chastised and foolishly gave in and let him go. But as one might expect, once Sisyphus began enjoying “the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the sea” again, he absolutely refused to return to the world of darkness.
Years later, with a decree from the gods in his hand, Mercury was sent to fetch Sisyphus back to Hades, where everyone but Sisyphus agreed he belonged. Using force, Mercury successfully managed to get Sisyphus back underground, where Pluto, who was extremely ticked off by this time, condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly roll a huge stone to the top of a hill, where the stone would inevitably run into the full force of gravity and fall back of its own weight, the idea being that there is no greater punishment, than endless, futile labor.
Regardless of how poorly I recall my Greek mythology, it seems to me that there is much to be learned from this wonderful old myth. To begin with, I’m reminded to pick my tasks on this earth very carefully, because even while we’re playing by all the rules and raking in the monthly paychecks, there’s always the nagging possibility that we might just be spending most of our lives accomplishing nothing; secondly, that although there is always a price to pay for gleefully jerking the gods around, there is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn. And finally, that regardless of the joys and passions of this life, good people must always return to their burdens.
When I think of Sisyphus, I also think of all the neat memories that must have filled his mind as he made his way back down the hill. And as Camus said, at that subtle moment when man glances backwards over his life, Sisyphus returning towards his rock, in that slight pivoting he contemplates the series of unrelated actions which became his fate, created by him combined under his memories eye and sealed by his death. Sisyphus understood that fate is actually a human matter, which must be settled among men and not gods. He also knew that life, the true living of it, belongs to those willing to take a few chances, and he even dared to tie up Death and ask for a furlough from hell. Maybe if more of us could find it in ourselves to follow his example from time to time, even knowing that the rock may await us, at least our descent back down the hill will take place in joy.