Having listened to Dr Sadler's lectures on Albert Camus, regretably not having actually Read the Myth of Sysyphus, I am left puzzling, maybe somewhat sickly, as to what Albert's take on Music might have been. The greatest danger here is that I might become lost among his words but allow my mis-interpretation to harden into an Orthodoxy.
Camus had notably spoken quite little in his essay about music. One might almost venture a guess that his preference for the other Arts would render him less of an authority on this matter. Yet that would be an insult to both him and me. It would also be an insult, probably, to the Absurd; I should be vigilant of the possibility that Camus had no philosophy of Music, would not have produced one if asked, and would thus belong to that Irrational World he describes, failing to come into accord with my own categories. Yet a guess at what his philosophy might have been is still imperative, because whether or not I am wrong, and whether or not such a guess is futile, I should come away from it with my own philosophy intact.
In the Myth of Sysyphus, Camus both describes the Absurd and delineates two distinct styles of Life in response to it. The first -- and the inferior -- of the two is the 'leap into absurdity'. His preference is towards an unprecedented approach: Living with the Absurd in a State of Protest.
Immediately, the vagueness of the words in the absence of a sufficient frame of reference can be confounding. 'Absurdity' and 'Absurd' are pitted against one another, though we would usually regard them as synonyms. 'Protest' is also a word that must be understood with incredible care yet unshakeable immediacy and passion.
Whilst I was playing the key-board, I stumbled upon a passage wherein a pair of chords alligned Beautifully with the leading melody. This had been no accident; I owe it to my education in musical theory probably that I am able to write so intelligibly.
Camus speaks of 'living without appeal' as an essential aspect of his philosophy of the Absurd: One must ignore the impulse to 'leap into absurdity' and to 'live with appeal'. 'Appeal' thus becomes another misleading word.
What if that word -- 'appeal' -- extends to refer to Artistic appeal?
This would almost suggest a sort of nihilism. I began to wonder: What if I should switch two chords in the sequence? Their conconance with the melody would be replaced by a dissonance.
The chord-progression, liberated and autonomous, would cease to complement the melody. The passage would remain Pretty because the two voices would be in the same key, yet it would cease to be beautiful (in addition to being Pretty). The voices would appear as two strangers incidentally on the same train-station platform. Yet they would not talk to one another.
Deciding upon the one form or the other necessitates a Choice.
One can imagine three sets of circumstances that one can then liken to three styles of government: Anarchy, Tyranny, and Democracy.
Suppose that I 'choose not to choose'. I leave the matter to chance. As a musician who intends to perform his own music, repeatedly, to a variety of audiences, I am confronted with this predicament: Over the course of future time, episodically, I will be confronted again and again with the same cross-roads -- either I play one version or the other; I choose, be it in practice, a studio, or on-stage, either Consonance or Dissonance.
Should I leave this matter to chance, I would be in a state of anarchy.
Acting as though I had never heard (of) Consonance, I would alternate between forms at random, going one way or the other at every cross-roads.
As always, innocence is tempting, yet it cannot endure.
Anarchy inevitably collapses. At the moment that I become lucid, I must choose, and chance cannot decide for me.
What I choose must be either democracy or tyranny. Yet before this decision even arises another decision: Ought I to commit? If I choose one form, must I 'stick with' that for every opportunity? Must I, therefore, at every opportunity Decide not only for that moment but for all moments that follow it?
At this instance, I must make my central question clear: What would Camus prefer? Is democracy the properly Absurd Life, or is it tyranny? Fyrthermore, must I commit (in order to live the Absurdist life)? Or would that be a 'leap into absurdity'?
One might make the claim that to commit is to make a leap into absurdity. It would be a manifestation of Hope, -- an investment in the course of time -- and as such it would be a way to by-pass' the Absurdity of the Human Predicament.
Such a Romanticism could be understood only be understood only by a very literal reading of the words (that Sadler chose) from Camus. It would be Formal, but it would havde little relation to the Being Itself.
The Absurd depends upon the dynamic opposition between the Human Being and the World. It refers neither to a quality of the person nor the World; what Camus means by the 'Absurd' describes the Relationship between these two poles. The Absurd is the taught guitar string between the fret-head and the body of the guitar; if the knob were rotated and the strong loosened, it would cease to produce its rich, out-of-tune, bittersweet tone. To reduce the Human Being to irrationality at an point is therefore to try to evade the Absurd. Commitment is not an act of Hope but of Effort. Without Effort, there can be no Failure, and without the possibility of Failure, there can be no Futility.
To refuse commitment is nihilism; to commit in spite of Irrationality is a celebration of the Absurd. After all: What could be more Absurd than a Commitment? Any one of us may say, 'I will do this tomorrow?', but how many can be Certain that that will be so? None.
Knowledgeable of that Being which is alive in Effort, mere Sophistry topples when it tries to equate the act and process of Commitment with a 'leap into absurdity'. The key here lies in the notion of 'Protest'.
One might imagine that the reckless rebellion of unqualified youth is a life without appeal, but only if one defines 'appeal' by any semblance of Commitment or Intentional Order.
Anarchy is a state of wherein Order can only arise Unintentionally.
Tyranny is a state wherein Order is intentionally avoided. Only Democracy, at least within the confines of this metaphor and allegory, is Intentional order.
According to such an 'understanding' of Camus, one may easily say this:
1. A leap into absurdity. A failure to adapt to life's injustice.
Democracy would be an instance of this. Although the World is Absurd*, one tries to have Order anyway.
2. The Absurd Life: The rejection of value at every avenue.
'Living without appeal', one refuses to commit to anything, except for maybe Anarchy.
When Anarchy has run its course, then one either persists in one's refusal to commit or one commits to Tyranny.
These are all forms of 'Protest'; the world does not make sense, so we reject the values of our parents and our peers.
That is all very well, but I have reason to doubt that that is what Camus is talking about.
From the outset, one must commit. The alternative is, in fact, an evasion.
Irrationalism is a leap into absurdity.
'Absurdity' is distinct from the 'Absurd' and the 'Absurd Life'.
Dadaism and nihilism are fine examples of a leap into absurdity.
When one lives the Properly Absurd Life, one may very well feel as though one were making an incessant and repetitive 'leap'. It may also feel akin to treading water or -- as it were -- pushing a boulder up a hill.* In this instance, vigiliance of the Heidegerrean being is essential in the face of what would otherwise be a puzzling misnomer.
It is not until one has actually made Camus' 'leap',in full lucidity, that one can fully draw a pair of lines between his dichotomy and one's own experience. The way to definitively elucidate the dichotomy between a Life of Leaping and one of Protest is thus:
Imagine the Absurd as a ravine. Those who would try to leap across it would be venturing a 'leap into absurdity'. Those who 'jump right in' to the Abyss live the Absurd Life.
It follows that Commitment is indispensable. What remains is this question: Do I commit to Consonance or Dissonance? Yet the answer becomes immediate now.
Consonance -- or Democracy -- is Intentional Order.
The alternative is Dissonance: Tyranny; Disorder. Here I must introduce another dichotomy:
That between Ascetic Dissonance and Artful Dissonance. Ascetic Dissonance is mutually exclusive with Consonance; if I commit to Dissonance, I can have no Beauty, only prettiness. Out of accord with the Ethic of Quantity, I limit how much Life is available to me. If, however, I choose Consonance, the possibility Artful Dissonance remains. Having established Order as my paradigm, I am free to deviate, but in such a way that I do not sacrifice Consonance but juxtapose it in such a way with Dissonance that the work becomes itself not only a demonstration of the Absurd in its creation but a Depiction of it in its reception.
The life without appeal is not therefore a life without appeal is not therefore a life without Artistic Appeal. If Art is Living Doubly, then we must draw a permeable line between Demonstration and depiction.
In the world of Demonstration, 'Appeal' refers the appeal a person makes towards some higher Power. In Depiction, an Appeal is an Aesthetic and Cognitive one. This is indispensable in the life of the Absurd Artist. To deny this would be nihilism; One is not Sisyphus at the peak, watching the boulder roll, smiling. The nihilist abides at the mountain base, refusing Effort* and refusing to Climb.
It so follows that Art is the only Absurd Act that does not Disappoint
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