Sisyphus and Hamlet

Some 10 years ago, on June 22, 2004, in a letter to the editor of this newspaper, under the title “Modern Sisyphus,” I had written: “We, like Sisyphus, have become absurd heroes, and eternal waiters, waiting for something positive to happen in the country. Even as the wait continuous, there is this lurking fear that our wait might turn out to be like that of Vladimir and Estragon, who wait endlessly for Godot, a character without identity.” But at present my perception towards ‘our modern state’ has changed.

Many people, even at present, think themselves to be Sisyphus, a mythical servant to the Greek gods, considering the never-ending ‘meaningless’ work they are engaged in. They respond to Sisyphus’ fate with horror, because they explicitly see its futility and hopelessness. They often bring examples from different sections of life and compare their futile labour with that of Sisyphus, who pushes a stone with great labour as a punishment for stealing secrets from God, but does not know what amount of labour he is investing in it. They opine it is because he himself has become a stone.  

In my view we have become Hamlet, a Shakespearean hero. He knows the murderer of his father. The latter’s ghost confirms the same. His first-hand encounter with the ghost onstage also affirms not anything different. Still he can’t go against the murderer. He is a frustrating character full of too much thought and not enough action.

As Hamlet, dilly-dallying is our characteristic feature.  We vacillate, rather than coming to action. Our surrounding is Hamlet-like. Our leaders are Hamlet-like. Our institutions have been suffering from Hamletian Syndrome. We don’t have faith

in ourselves, let alone our consciousness about our rivals. We don’t believe in others; neither do we decide on our own. Decision making is always in limbo. To quote, for instance, an article titled by Pranab Kharel and Bhadra Sharma published in the Post (“Justice Delayed,” February 9), “The judicial system in Nepal is a morass of delays and irregularities, rendering it exceedingly difficult to navigate for the average citizen.”

We have lost Sisyphus’ heroic quality. At least, Sisyphus is above fate because he is aware of it.  Only what looms in our surrounding is indecision. The latest political scenario of our country reflects—we delay because we like it. We enjoy Hamletian Syndrome because it does not enforce action. We love ambivalence because it doesn’t demand action. We linger because we are oversensitive as Hamlet had been. We delay because we are not up to the task. We vacillate because we are full of contradictions. We defer because we have paradoxical nature. There is gap between our saying and doing.

If the myth of Sisyphus is tragic, that is only because its hero is conscious.  Where would his torture be, indeed, if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him? He becomes tragic or melancholic only at the rare moments—when he becomes conscious. He, a proletarian of the gods—powerless, yet rebellious—knows the whole extent of his wretched condition; this is what he thinks of during his descent. The lucidity that was to constitute his torture at the same time crowns his victory. There is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn.

Unlike Sisyphus, we are every time tragic. We are heroes only of indecision, not of action. We never reach the top of the mountain we aspire to climb, and we never create the situation to conclude “all is well,” which Sisyphus as well as Oedipus had said, despite having suffered so much. Our reiteration for consensus, development, progress, transparency, good governance, morality etc.

are always looming in limbo, creating terror rather than consoling the ailing humanity.

Sisyphus, though destined to do a futile task, never regrets and complains against his own condition. He goes on his own duty of doing things joyfully without thinking much about the result his action will bring. He teaches higher fidelity.  He concludes ‘all is well.’  He does not delay thinking a thought that may be wrong. We, modern people, can’t be Sisyphus because we have complaining nature and we are overtly not analytical. We often kvetch with what we are doing and repent on our efforts.

In a celebrated soliloquy ‘to be or not to be: that is the question,’ Hamlet shows his state of indecision and the same soliloquy has become a guiding principle of modern men. As I realise now, it is better to be Sisyphus, a man of great power, endurance and ceaseless patience than to be a decision-less, and frustrating Hamlet.