Having finished Uncle Silas (and thank god, though the ending was much better than I’d expected), I’ve decided to munch on some lighter fare. So I browsed my bookshelves, drew forth the Collected Novels of Sommerset Maugham (too heavy), The Inferno (too tongue in cheek), and finally settled on Albert Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus. Flipping through the pages, I discovered that a younger me had taken the trouble to underline certain sentences and jot down notes. How delightful! I immediately resolved to reread the slender tome, and see how insightful I had proven when young.
To give you an idea what I’m in for:
There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and this is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.
Exciting! Looks like there’s a lot riding on Camus conclusion. Wish me luck!