Existentialism, the word, seems to saturate the conversations between high school students and find its way into some of the best pick-up lines I have ever heard. Truthfully, existentialism, whenever esoterically mentioned, will undoubtedly raise all eyebrows, bushy or plucked, either because those listening think the reference to existentialism came from an over-stuffed mouth or because they are actually familiar with the philosophy and find it controversial or intriguing. Being the latter, the aging, graying professor of philosophy inside me jumps with excitement. Existentialism has been a philosophy that I have applied to the experiences of my life to define my purpose; moreover, I share my unique perspective with all who will listen to my expatiations or read my exposition.
Since existentialism is not as common as the word "like" in the teenage vernacular, when I mention it I am often questioned, "Where did you learn that?" Those words usually are accompanied by the proverbial teenage look of incredulity, and my repartee is always the same: "A few books." Some of the more inquisitive students will follow my response with another question: "What books?" The questioner has just opened up Pandora's Box. I rattle off the usual suspects: Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, and The Stranger by Albert Camus. Most, at this time, have left me to talk to a very enigmatic brick wall or a set of lockers, but sometimes students' curiosities prove stronger than their fears of anything related to philosophy. Thus, I take my opportunity, talking passionately about the precepts of Existentialism in canonized literature.
I have taken a special interest in two pieces of literature, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky and "The Guest" by Albert Camus, and ardently write about or discuss them with anyone interested (the only things that will sate my nerdy obsession).
Camus' tragically ironic story details the life of a French Algerian school teacher stuck in a "catch-22" during the French-Algerian conflict. This short piece of fiction concerns the protagonist's (Daru's) internal struggle with the absurdity of life's consequences. He must decide between following the policy of the French government that he has pledged his allegiance too, or yield to his conscience and let a captive, condemned to be executed, free. Camus is asserting, rather bleakly, that no matter what Daru does his head is on the chopping block. In the end, Daru decides to let the prisoner, an unnamed Arab, choose between freedom or imprisonment and certain execution: the Arab decides to walk to the prison and his certain death.
When Daru returns home after releasing the Arab, he finds an ominous threat scrawled on his walls by the Arab's allies. Camus utilizes Daru's predicament to illustrate the absurdity of reality and the lack of rationality in fate's distribution of consequences. It would be assumed that those who perform acts demonstrating tremendous moral character would be rewarded; however, Camus shows this is not the case in reality. Daru's choice of nobility is generously rewarded with the threat of looming death: a tragically ironic fate. On the surface, Camus's story screams pessimism, but the purpose behind the bleakness of "The Guest" resides in Existential thought: the way to define life is to overcome the frustration that results from its inherent injustices.
Dostoevsky, in turn, describes struggles with free will, angst, and morality in Crime and Punishment. Raskolinikov, the protagonist, is perturbed by the injustices he perceives in society. Believing himself to be intellectually and morally superior to those who surround him, he is vexed with frustration and angst until he commits an atrocious act of brutality: murder, a murder he originally finds morally justifiable. The rest of the novel deals with Raskolinikov's path to redemption (if one can be found) and his struggles to define himself as a human being with a purposeful life through Christianity. This is an interesting addition to the Existentialist philosophy as most Existentialists' theories depend on secular assumptions.
I am intrigued by the debate between theistic and atheistic Existentialism. Does the existence of God negate the belief that I can define the meaning of my life or not? I cannot answer this question, but I seek a means to, which is why I aim to study literature, philosophy, and the human condition.
Beliefs are formed in order to be questioned and questioned in order to form individualized beliefs. There is little intrigue in homogenized beliefs; a lack of theological and philosophical debate is like living in a spiritual and intellectual wasteland. I never intend to attack any beliefs or offend anyone, but I do intend to encourage people to poke their heads out from under their security blankets. I have seen the benefits of changing perspectives in academics especially in regard to problem solving. Everyday is my Existentialist Christmas, where I can go out and bestow the gifts of my unique perspective to an eager audience. Some days the audience is more eager than others, but, nonetheless, I will share my thoughts and challenge beliefs.
Existentialists seem like really cheerful fellows, believing that God does not exist, and that no rational basis for morality or reality can be found, and, ultimately, that life is meaningless. These were their true thoughts, but were these their final conclusions? Definitely not; it is never that simple, and that is the exciting part. They believed that angst, injustice, frustration, and the absurdity or meaninglessness of life could be conquered by the individual (well, not all, a few like Heidegger would have been happier if they buried their heads in the ground and hid from the world). Nonetheless, I want to grapple with the Hydra that represents the multiple challenges of reality. I will conquer this multi-faceted monster with answers to my introspective questions and the insightful questions that might inspire others.
As an Existentialist, I ponder the same questions that Kafka and Sartre did: Would the non-existence of God strip all purpose from life and render morality useless? Is life ultimately meaningless, unless one is to make choices that ascribe it purpose? Is all experience subjective and only important to the one central to that experience? Questions like these stoke the flames of my curiosity; they burn like a brand that reminds me I must seek answers and challenge taken-for-granted beliefs.
Existentialism has been the beginning of these answers, but I will not settle, not be complacent, and not stop questioning for the rest of my life: the meaning of my existence depends on it (at least in my belief). This has served as great motivation for me, acting as the foundation from which I have been able to build myself brick by brick into a strong, intellectually curious, and autonomous individual.
Now what's happened to my audience in the hallway? Some of them will care for Existentialism, some will not; but the remarkable thing is that all who listen will have some response. My favorite, most memorable response was "Dude, Existentialism is like hanging upside down and looking at the world through a kaleidoscope, but seeing it more clearly!" Not only do I chuckle externally at this, but also brim with delight internally because the response indicates an interest and unconventionally thoughtful response to a new perspective. This is the goal of my efforts and a beneficent side-effect of my eccentric passion.
Sources
- Camus, Albert. "The Guest." Exile and the Kingdom. 1957
- Dostoevsky, Fyodor. Crime and Punishment. The Russian Messenger. 1866
