Tell Me, Camus, About Love
“You will never be able to experience everything. So, please, do poetical justice to your soul and simply experience yourself.” Albert Camus
A comfort to my mind and soul you impart in me, Albert, the magnitude of love and the glory of kindness in a wearisome world.
Your observations from the heart walk side by side with a duty to love, no distance apart.
I find the power of unequivocal love in the depth of your reflections as you whisper in my ear that it is merely bad luck not to be loved — but not loving is a misfortune.
I take this as meaning that in the grand scheme of things, loving ourselves and others sows the synergy we desire.
I heed your words of warning,
Violence and hatred dry up the heart itself; the long fight for justice exhausts the love.
Resilience fuelled by the empathy of kindness and a love so strong reduces you to tears of compassion but not to tears of pain or persecution. These, on the contrary, only reinforce your spirit and resolution — Thoughts from your last and unfinished book, The Last Man, which inspire me.
Happiness, Albert, is innate in me, not something I need to seek. It is the simplicity of whiling in harmony with my inner self while on par with my surroundings. It can be sparked by watching a robin redbreast on my windowsill silently staring out into the world.
It can be a spontaneous combustion of joy and gratitude for all that I have and all that has been bestowed upon me. It is everything and nothing. Imagine Sisyphus happy.
And as you, Albert, noted:
When you have once seen the glow of happiness on the face of a beloved person, you know that a man can have no vocation but to awaken that light on the faces surrounding him. In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
Camus, The Rebel
Yes, yes, Albert, the invincible summer, my driving force, my energeia.
I take from your acceptance speech of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1957, that as a writer my task shall “consist in preventing the world from destroying itself” as you once hoped would be the task of your generation.
If with my writing, I can in any way contribute towards achieving this colossal mission, then I have found my ultimate happiness, my eudaemonia.
If any of you, dear writers, Manasi Diwakar, Vaishali Paliwal, G.R. MELVIN, Dr. Jackie Greenwood, Deborah Krulicki, wish to take up the challenge and write about what eudaemonia might mean to you, then it’s all yours.
For further reading:
Albert Camus on love and the absurd
Albert Camus wrote in his journals that if he 'had to write a book on morality, it would have a hundred pages and…
By chance, I came upon Thomas Dylan Daniel’s discourse on Aristotle’s and Camus’ somewhat diverging concept of happiness