I will decidedly not be able to cover the totality of existentialist thought right here but as a proverbial dog bone I shall reproduce some of its most compelling ideas. Existentialism aims to allegedly ground the subject in nothing but individual freedom, discarding any appeals to the human 'essence' as an exercise in 'bad faith'. As Jean Paul Sartre famously said "man is condemned to be free", referring to the lack of intrinsic purpose in the life of the subject. Perhaps most reassuringly and simultaneously most terrifyingly, the idea that we create our own unique paths in life from nothing but the sheer sweat of our will in defiance of the cold indifference of the world around us seems to be the dawn of a new golden age of man. Indeed Nietzsche's ubermensch remains a testament to the power of the will to liberate man from his religious and cultural chains of servitude. From Kierkegaard to Heidegger to Sartre, the obsession with living 'authentically' and circumventing 'bad faith' paints a veritable fresco of man slaying God and taking His divine throne.
I write this in part because I used to be a committed 'existentialist' back in my more tragically flamboyant days. However, recently I've come to reject it fervently and as such this essay is as much an argument against existentialism as it is a voyage through my turbulent mind. I shall not elucidate what can perhaps be called 'traditional' arguments against existentialism as I believe Sartre did a marvellous job sniping them down one by one in L'existentialisme est un humanisme, so to do so would merely condemn words to futility. Instead, more radically I might add, I reject existentialism on the basis of absurdist thought, notably from a Camusean and Kafkaesque standpoint.
A great portion of existentialism relies on overcoming the 'nausea' associated with confronting meaninglessness and accepting the freedom to choose ones fate. Sartre even goes so far as to say that one has a responsibility to craft ones essence, thus adding an ethical dimension to existentialism. However, it quickly becomes apparent that despite all its efforts to break the chains by which the individual is tethered, existentialism still has a single iron clasp veiled by the 'liberation mythos'; Hope. As Camus infamously said of existentialism "starting from a philosophy of the world's lack of meaning, it ends up by finding a meaning and depth in it". Despite being "condemned to be free", the existential man revels in a religious obsession with the transcendence that freedom brings. Existentialism does not lay bare the true nature of the world, does not reveal to man the beasts that lurk in the night, does not truly encounter Heidegger's Being as such. Instead, it allows man to play God in a world of self-delusion. Nausea isn't overcome so much as drowned by the salt of the sea, the drink at the bar, the dance in the rain. In short, existentialism, by virtue of its freedom, allows the individual to seek solace in the world that he believes he has created, ignoring the true harsh brutality of the world as such. Ironically, existentialists are now found with their tails between their legs as their negation of religion itself becomes religious. In Nietzschean terms, while existentialism ventured into the depths and found, laying ungracefully amidst withered wings and dried up blood, the corpse of God, it sought not to accept that tragic fate but see each individual as having the potential to replace this dead God.
Where existentialists see the only finitude as death, absurdists such as Kafka and Camus see a cosmological finitude baked into the structure of the world. In formulating our essence we shout "What does my life mean?" and the world simply replies with characteristic silence. For existentialists this mean that we are unconditionally free and thus must decide for ourselves how to best exist. For absurdists however, merely asking the question, which is an inescapable part of the human condition, is an implicit yearning for hope. The lack of an answer does not simply mean that we are free but rather implies the tragic disposition of the world. The world is senseless and absurd. Another finitude is thus introduced; tragedy and suffering, which acts as constraints upon what one can find meaningful in life. This is precisely why the subtle difference introduced in absurdism is so appealing to me. It is visceral and real; life stripped of its painted delusions. A philosophy so unstable it occupies an uneasy tension between being considered a figment of literature and a phantom of philosophy.
To best understand absurdism, I draw upon two examples: Kafka's disorienting tale The Trial and Camus' The Myth of Sisyphus. In the latter Camus recounts how Sisyphus is condemned to perpetually roll a boulder up a mountain only to watch it roll down again and start all over. This is a metaphor for the human condition. We strive for meaning as the quest ignites embers in our very soul that we, with all our intelligent might, cannot quiet. However, this quest is entirely pointless, meaningless, absurd. Instead of crafting some meaning that justifies this pointless labour or one that shields the soul from its menial toil, we should be happy and accept this senselessness. Laugh in the face of absurdity instead of cowering in temples of blinding light. Give a toast to human suffering instead of crafting a new divine kingdom. Be happy with the world with all its heights of bliss and horrors of the night instead of mindless creation. In Kafka we find a similar resonance however previously abstract notions of cosmological suffering find physical manifestation in bureaucratic structures. The idea that Josef K- files paperwork, runs around, does seemingly important things which are revealed to be utterly pointless and useless. This is an allegory for how our modern systems seemingly tend toward some greater objective goal but which are, in macro-observation, entirely absurd and senseless. Again the tragic consciousness underpinning this novel is not meant to encourage reform or any form of salvation but rather resignation to such tragedy. Unlike Camus, Kafka does not stress happiness in accepting the absurd but rather simply a constant 'anxiety'; a state of simply 'being' as opposed to the existentialist 'becoming'. Sisyphus does not create some ideal world for himself, he does not seek to end his laborious suffering, he merely accepts the inevitable and hence is able, in such tragic resignation, to reframe suffering and be happy.
I hope I have managed to simultaneously denounce existentialism and encourage absurdism but admittedly this tall and winding tale of mine might have been slightly too winding. If the philosopher reading this is appalled at the sheer lack of consistent arguments, I'd say that that is exactly the point. In absurdist writing, literature above analytic philosophy is prioritised. Admittedly to the keen eye it is evident that I have simplified existentialism and complexified absurdism (a nifty debate trick for those wondering), however in my defence any complexification of existentialism would serve only the philosopher and not the artist. Very specific arguments concerning the limitation and acceptance of death, the nature of existence, and the problem of nihilism don't take away from the centrality of existentialism's 'liberation mythos' that ultimately serve as its Achilles heel.