加缪:西西弗的神话 (中英对照）

阿尔贝·加缪

诸神处罚西西弗不停地把一块巨石推上山顶，而石头由于自身的重量又滚下山去，诸神
认为再也没有比进行这种无效无望的劳动更为严厉的惩罚了。

荷马说，西西弗是最终要死的人中最聪明最谨慎的人。但另有传说说他屈从于强盗生
涯。我看不出其中有什么矛盾。各种说法的分歧在于是否要赋予这地狱中的无效劳动者的行
为动机以价值。人们首先是以某种轻率的态度把他与诸神放在一起进行谴责，并历数他们的
隐私。阿索玻斯的女儿埃癸娜被朱庇特劫走。父亲对女儿的失踪大为震惊并且怪罪于西西
弗，深知内情的西西弗对阿索玻斯说，他可以告诉他女儿的消息，但必须以给柯兰特城堡供
水为条件，他宁愿得到水的圣浴，而不是天火雷电。他因此被罚下地狱，荷马告诉我们西西
弗曾经扼往过死神的喉咙。普洛托忍受不了地狱王国的荒凉寂寞，他催促战神把死神从其战
胜者手中解放出来。

还有人说，西西弗在临死前冒失地要检验他妻子对他的爱情。他命令她把他的尸体扔在
广场中央。不举行任何仪式。于是西西弗重堕地狱。他在地狱里对那恣意践踏人类之爱的行
径十分愤慨。她获得普洛托的允诺重返人间以惩罚他的妻子。但当他又一次看到这大地的面
貌，重新领略流水、阳光的抚爱，重新触摸那火热的石头、宽阔的大海的时候，他就再也不
愿回到阴森的地狱中去了。冥王的诏令、气愤和警告都无济于事。他又在地球上生活了多
年，面对起伏的山峦，奔腾的大海和大地的微笑他又生活了多年。诸神于是进行干涉。墨丘
利跑来揪住这冒犯者的领子，把他从欢乐的生活中拉了出来，强行把他重新投入地狱，在那
里，为惩罚他而设的巨石已准备就绪。

我们已经明白：西西弗是个荒谬的英雄。他之所以是荒谬的英雄，还因为他的激情和他
所经受的磨难。他藐视神明，仇恨死亡，对生活充满激情，这必然使他受到难以用言语尽述
的非人折磨：他以自己的整个身心致力于一种没有效果的事业。而这是为了对大地的无限热
爱必须付出的代价。人们并没有谈到西西弗在地狱里的情况。创造这些神话是为了让人的想
象使西西弗的形象栩栩如生。在西西弗身上，我们只能看到这样一幅图画：一个紧张的身体
千百次地重复一个动作：搬动巨石，滚动它并把它推至山顶；我们看到的是一张痛苦扭曲的
脸，看到的是紧贴在巨石上的面颊，那落满泥士、抖动的肩膀，沾满泥士的双脚，完全僵直
的胳膊，以及那坚实的满是泥士的人的双手。经过被渺渺空间和永恒的时间限制着的努力之
后，目的就达到了。西西弗于是看到巨石在几秒钟内又向着下面的世界滚下，而他则必须把
这巨石重新推向山顶。他于是又向山下走去。

正是因为这种回复、停歇，我对西西弗产生了兴趣。这一张饱经磨难近似石头般坚硬的
面孔已经自己化成了石头！我看到这个人以沉重而均匀的脚步走向那无尽的苦难。这个时刻
就像一次呼吸那样短促，它的到来与西西弗的不幸一样是确定无疑的，这个时刻就是意识的
时刻。在每一个这样的时刻中，他离开山顶并且逐渐地深入到诸神的巢穴中去，他超出了他
自己的命运。他比他搬动的巨石还要坚硬。

如果说，这个神话是悲剧的，那是因为它的主人公是有意识的。若他行的每一步都依靠
成功的希望所支持，那他的痛苦实际上又在那里呢？今天的工人终生都在劳动，终日完成的
是同样的工作，这样的命运并非不比西西弗的命运荒谬。但是，这种命运只有在工人变得有
意识的偶然时刻才是悲剧性的。西西弗，这诸神中的无产者，这进行无效劳役而又进行反叛
的无产者，他完全清楚自己所处的悲惨境地：在他下山时，他想到的正是这悲惨的境地。造
成西西弗痛苦的清醒意识同时也就造就了他的胜利。不存在不通过蔑视而自我超越的命运。

如果西西弗下山推石在某些天里是痛苦地进行着的，那么这个工作也可以在欢乐中进
行。这并不是言过其实。我还想象西西弗又回头走向他的巨石，痛苦又重新开始。当对大地
的想象过于着重于回忆，当对幸福的憧憬过于急切，那痛苦就在人的心灵深处升起：这就是
巨石的胜利，这就是巨石本身。巨大的悲痛是难以承担的重负。这就是我们的客西马尼之
夜。但是，雄辩的真理一旦被认识就会衰竭。因此，俄狄浦斯不知不觉首先屈从命运。而一
旦他明白了一切，他的悲剧就开始了。与此同时，两眼失明而又丧失希望的俄狄浦斯认识
到，他与世界之间的唯一联系就是一个年轻姑娘鲜润的手。他于是毫无顾忌地发出这样震撼
人心的声音：“尽管我历尽艰难困苦，但我年逾不惑，我的灵魂深邃伟大，因而我认为我是
幸福的。”索福克勒斯的俄狄浦斯与陀思妥耶夫斯基的基里洛夫都提出了荒谬胜利的法则。
先贤的智慧与现代英雄主义汇合了。

人们要发现荒谬，就不能不想到要写某种有关幸福的教材。“哎，什么！就凭这些如此
狭窄的道路……？”但是，世界只有一个。幸福与荒谬是同一大地的两个产儿。若说幸福一
定是从荒谬的发现中产生的，那可能是错误的。因为荒谬的感情还很可能产生于幸福。“我
认为我是幸福的”，俄狄浦斯说，而这种说法是神圣的。它回响在人的疯狂而又有限的世界
之中。它告诫人们一切都还没有也从没有被穷尽过。它把一个上帝从世界中驱逐出去，这个
上帝是怀着不满足的心理以及对无效痛苦的偏好而进入人间的。它还把命运改造成为一件应
该在人们之中得到安排的人的事情。

西西弗无声的全部快乐就在于此。他的命运是属于他的。他的岩石是他的事情。同样，
当荒谬的人深思他的痛苦时，他就使一切偶像哑然失声。在这突然重又沉默的世界中，大地
升起千万个美妙细小的声音。无意识的、秘密的召唤，一切面貌提出的要求，这些都是胜利
必不可少的对立面和应付的代价。不存在无阴影的太阳，而且必须认识黑夜。荒谬的人说
“是”，但他的努力永不停息。如果有一种个人的命运，就不会有更高的命运，或至少可以
说，只有一种被人看作是宿命的和应受到蔑视的命运。此外，荒谬的人知道，他是自己生活
的主人。在这微妙的时刻，人回归到自己的生活之中，西西弗回身走向巨石，他静观这一系
列没有关联而又变成他自己命运的行动，他的命运是他自己创造的，是在他的记忆的注视下
聚合而又马上会被他的死亡固定的命运。因此，盲人从一开始就坚信一切人的东西都源于人
道主义，就像盲人渴望看见而又知道黑夜是无穷尽的一样，西西弗永远行进。而巨石仍在滚
动着。

我把西西弗留在山脚下！我们总是看到他身上的重负。而西西弗告诉我们，最高的虔诚
是否认诸神并且搬掉石头。他也认为自己是幸福的。这个从此没有主宰的世界对他来讲既不
是荒漠，也不是沃士。这块巨石上的每一颗粒，这黑黝黝的高山上的每一颗矿砂唯有对西西
弗才形成一个世界。他爬上山顶所要进行的斗争本身就足以使一个人心里感到充实。应该认
为，西西弗是幸福的。

阿尔贝·加缪(1913-1960)法国存在主义小说家、戏剧家。1957年获诺贝尔文学奖。杜
小真译

The Myth Of Sisyphus

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The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.
If one believes Homer, Sisyphus was the wisest and most prudent of mortals. According to another tradition, however, he was disposed to practice the profession of highwayman. I see no contradiction in this. Opinions differ as to the reasons why he became the futile laborer of the underworld. To begin with, he is accused of a certain levity in regard to the gods. He stole their secrets. Egina, the daughter of Esopus, was carried off by Jupiter. The father was shocked by that disappearance and complained to Sisyphus. He, who knew of the abduction, offered to tell about it on condition that Esopus would give water to the citadel of Corinth. To the celestial thunderbolts he preferred the benediction of water. He was punished for this in the underworld. Homer tells us also that Sisyphus had put Death in chains. Pluto could not endure the sight of his deserted, silent empire. He dispatched the god of war, who liberated Death from the hands of her conqueror.

It is said that Sisyphus, being near to death, rashly wanted to test his wife\'s love. He ordered her to cast his unburied body into the middle of the public square. Sisyphus woke up in the underworld. And there, annoyed by an obedience so contrary to human love, he obtained from Pluto permission to return to earth in order to chastise his wife. But when he had seen again the face of this world, enjoyed water and sun, warm stones and the sea, he no longer wanted to go back to the infernal darkness. Recalls, signs of anger, warnings were of no avail. Many years more he lived facing the curve of the gulf, the sparkling sea, and the smiles of earth. A decree of the gods was necessary. Mercury came and seized the impudent man by the collar and, snatching him from his joys, lead him forcibly back to the underworld, where his rock was ready for him.

You have already grasped that Sisyphus is the absurd hero. He is, as much through his passions as through his torture. His scorn of the gods, his hatred of death, and his passion for life won him that unspeakable penalty in which the whole being is exerted toward accomplishing nothing. This is the price that must be paid for the passions of this earth. Nothing is told us about Sisyphus in the underworld. Myths are made for the imagination to breathe life into them. As for this myth, one sees merely the whole effort of a body straining to raise the huge stone, to roll it, and push it up a slope a hundred times over; one sees the face screwed up, the cheek tight against the stone, the shoulder bracing the clay-covered mass, the foot wedging it, the fresh start with arms outstretched, the wholly human security of two earth-clotted hands. At the very end of his long effort measured by skyless space and time without depth, the purpose is achieved. Then Sisyphus watches the stone rush down in a few moments toward that lower world whence he will have to push it up again toward the summit. He goes back down to the plain.

It is during that return, that pause, that Sisyphus interests me. A face that toils so close to stones is already stone itself! I see that man going back down with a heavy yet measured step toward the torment of which he will never know the end. That hour like a breathing-space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock.

If this myth is tragic, that is because its hero is conscious. Where would his torture be, indeed, if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him? The workman of today works everyday in his life at the same tasks, and his fate is no less absurd. But it is tragic only at the rare moments when it becomes conscious. Sisyphus, proletarian of the gods, powerless and rebellious, knows the whole extent of his wretched condition: it 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 can not be surmounted by scorn.

If the descent is thus sometimes performed in sorrow, it can also take place in joy. This word is not too much. Again I fancy Sisyphus returning toward his rock, and the sorrow was in the beginning. When the images of earth cling too tightly to memory, when the call of happiness becomes too insistent, it happens that melancholy arises in man\'s heart: this is the rock\'s victory, this is the rock itself. The boundless grief is too heavy to bear. These are our nights of Gethsemane. But crushing truths perish from being acknowledged. Thus, Edipus at the outset obeys fate without knowing it. But from the moment he knows, his tragedy begins. Yet at the same moment, blind and desperate, he realizes that the only bond linking him to the world is the cool hand of a girl. Then a tremendous remark rings out: \"Despite so many ordeals, my advanced age and the nobility of my soul make me conclude that all is well.\" Sophocles\' Edipus, like Dostoevsky\'s Kirilov, thus gives the recipe for the absurd victory. Ancient wisdom confirms modern heroism.

One does not discover the absurd without being tempted to write a manual of happiness. \"What!---by such narrow ways--?\" There is but one world, however. Happiness and the absurd are two sons of the same earth. They are inseparable. It would be a mistake to say that happiness necessarily springs from the absurd. discovery. It happens as well that the felling of the absurd springs from happiness. \"I conclude that all is well,\" says Edipus, and that remark is sacred. It echoes in the wild and limited universe of man. It teaches that all is not, has not been, exhausted. It drives out of this world a god who had come into it with dissatisfaction and a preference for futile suffering. It makes of fate a human matter, which must be settled among men.

All Sisyphus\' silent joy is contained therein. His fate belongs to him. His rock is a thing Likewise, the absurd man, when he contemplates his torment, silences all the idols. In the universe suddenly restored to its silence, the myriad wondering little voices of the earth rise up. Unconscious, secret calls, invitations from all the faces, they are the necessary reverse and price of victory. There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night. The absurd man says yes and his efforts will henceforth be unceasing. If there is a personal fate, there is no higher destiny, or at least there is, but one which he concludes is inevitable and despicable. For the rest, he knows himself to be the master of his days. At that subtle moment when man glances backward over his life, Sisyphus returning toward his rock, in that slight pivoting he contemplates that series of unrelated actions which become his fate, created by him, combined under his memory\'s eye and soon sealed by his death. Thus, convinced of the wholly human origin of all that is human, a blind man eager to see who knows that the night has no end, he is still on the go. The rock is still rolling.

I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain! One always finds one\'s burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man\'s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

---Albert Camus