Recoiling From Freedom: A Commentary on the Janus-faced "Free Man" of Sartre's The Flies
To My Invisible Audience,
Aristotle once said that a person who is either unable or has no need to live in society must either be a beast or a god. Whilst reading through Sartre's play, The Flies, its subtle undertones of this contrast between beast and god in their respective interactions with human society caught my eye. As one who is deeply interested in the relationship between society and the individual, I find that the chaos espoused by Existentialist freedom pushed to its logical limits exists in a dualist conflict with the order that I believe is necessary for the proper functioning of society.
If a man is said to be free, then does this not mean that he is free to accept or reject the dictates of society that had been imposed upon him? By presenting the rejection of society as an option, the necessity of living as part of a community is removed - yet though the free man no longer needs society, the question of living is not yet answered for him. What path is the free man to choose? What life is the free man to live? Without society to dictate, without society to choose for him - he is alone, alone in his own freedom. There is no one to choose for him and thus there is no one to blame for his own mistakes, the burden of freedom is not a dream but rather a nightmare. Which path must the wayward soul choose? Is he to remove himself from society and live as a beast? Is he to return to society and dominate the mindless cattle that live within as a god?
For Orestes, the path chosen was exile - no longer was he part of the flock, so no longer will he live among the people of Argos. It has been said that the Masses will always fear the Individual because of his individuality - the utter incomprehensibility of a person who insists on marching to a different beat, who insists on his right to be miserable: "Why will this wayward soul not partake in our brave new world? What is the use of freedom? Does it feed you, clothe you, pleasure you? Come wayward soul come, come to us and we will accept you - ask and you will be given! We ask for nothing, a mere trifle - just be one of us. Be part of the group so that we may grow stronger, be part of the group so that none of us will ever be lonely!"
Argos, Argos - men and women irresponsible! Who murdered Agamemnon? Why nobody! Nobody at all! He died by accident, an accident in the form of an axe cleaving his skull! Is that not so? Aegistheus, standing beside a bloody corpse, axe hanging loosely by a listless grip - so little courage, so little courage! The man had enough courage to murder, but lacked the courage to accept responsibility - but this is not all that surprising, for the burden of murder is light when it is done without acknowledging responsibility. It becomes an accident, the product of the zephyr - a momentary madness, a mistake of epic proportions!
The crime the doer disowns becomes ownerless - no man's crime. But is that true? If it is, then whence come the flies? And what need is there for atonement? Where there is just punishment there is foul crime! This need to maintain the balance is understandable to the people of Argos - though there has been no crime, only accident, the dead must be appeased all the same. They had lost their life, however many years that still remain to their petty little lives on this miserable rock, so the people of Argos must give it back to them. It will give the ghosts pleasure to see them in fear and trembling, it will give the dead satisfaction to live once again as they had lived in life - a day of the dead, where the dead live as living! The guilt of the people - living without joy and pleasure, in constant fear of ghastly specters - the constant self-punishment of a life lived in misery, only this may appease the dead and assuage the excruciating pain of guilt within!
The people look to King Aegistheus, the one who coronated in blood, to lead them on their miserable little way. They pay no heed to the bloodstains, they see not the confusion - they see nothing but the mask he wears, the masquerade of the blind in which they all partake. He knows not the way, but that is unimportant - they believe in him, he is the figure of authority - where is the need of thinking, of responsibility, when it is so much easier to simply nod and agree? Their troubles and tribulations seem so distant, their quandaries so simple - all that is needed is the power of belief: "The King is infallible, the King is omniscient - why should I, a creature so confused, think for myself? What if I make a mistake? The King knows best, so I do as he says!"
But what do we do now? Now that the King is dead, how are we to act? Adrift in a bitter sea, how does one make the journey of a thousand leagues after the navigator has been murdered so foully? Orestes came, Orestes slew, Orestes left - his legacy is one of anguish for the people of Argos. To whom do they turn to now, a people without a King? Forced to look within, do they recoil at horror at the emptiness of a life spent in mindless drudgery? The sin of Aegistheus is no longer theirs to keep, they can no longer distract themselves from the future by flagellating themselves upon the burden of past crimes. The people of Argos have been given their freedom, but was this freedom Orestes' to give?
Freedom is a double-edged sword - the palpable anguish of a man who discovers he is free is assuaged only by the unburdened heart with which he would live the rest of his life. Yet this journey is a solitary one, a personal one - the circumstances that resulted in Orestes' realization do not apply to the people of Argos. If freedom is the last bulwark of individualism, how then can the freedom of one be dictated to the many? Orestes, looking up to Heaven and the gods for the last time, became enlightened - he is free and thus he may choose the path he wished to take. He paid no heed to the warnings of Zeus, the cackling laughter of the Furies - he had chosen his freedom, he has accepted his anguish - the price of the bride has been met, the dowry accepted. But did the people of Argos have this luxury? Were they given the choice between freedom and chains, like Electra was? The most basic freedom is not, as some had said, the right to say two and two makes four - the most basic freedom is the choice between a life of slavery and a life as an outcast! From this basic freedom, all other freedoms may spring forth - yet with this freedom deprived, the freedom of Argos is hollow indeed!
But why must Orestes walk off into the setting sun? Has he not oh-so-benevolently "freed" the masses of Argos? Why then is such an act necessary? The siren's lure of freedom is strong, my friend; Orestes is not the pied piper that carries the tune and draws the flies away from Argos - no, Orestes is the follower, who madly dances to the tune of freedom, a tune that leads him merrily away from society and into the wilderness to live as a beast! How can a free man live in society? By its very nature, society is a series of contracts and obligations within a community - all these serve to harness and restrict the freedom of its inhabitants! Granted, these laws we live under are for our protection and the protection of those around us - yet even this moderating influence must be rejected in the immolating chaos of freedom personified! For to be free is to live under no law but one's own - to create meaning for oneself, and not allow society to dictate meaning to us. If Orestes was to live in Argos, he must first sacrifice his newly-gained freedom to the maw of the Argosian Leviathan!
However, the descent into chaos and madness is only the path of Orestes and those like him. Such is the path of the beast, the free man who wishes not to create but to merely live out his freedom in his own unique manner. Yet one must not forget that there are two characters who are free in Sartre's delightful play - one is Orestes and the other Zeus! As god of gods, Zeus sits on his throne upon the heights of Olympus, weaving into reality the very fabric of the universe - he occupies the lonely apex of a hierarchy encompassing all of creation, for he has none to look up to, none to which he could turn - Zeus too is free! He is free, yet he is bound.
For millennia, Zeus has danced his masquerade, for eons more shall he do the same - so long as Zeus remains god, he remains part of society. As part of society, all the world watches and all the world waits - the expectant eyes of a slumbering multitude. The sorcerer stands in precarious balance upon the pyramid's point - below him stand the masses, enthralled by his arcane gestures, lulled by the vivid illusions. Yet there is the fear, the fear that a single mis-step will break the spell and never again will the masses be chained again - the bitterness of knowing men are free, and they remain slaves only by vice of their ignorance!
The fear of Zeus is no different from the fear of Orestes - the existence of the Other is the existence of a threat upon one's freedom. When there is another, one's Narcissistic universe shatters - no longer is everything centered around oneself, for the Other must be taken into account. While Orestes seeks to remove the Other by removing himself from the Other's presence, Zeus attempts to lull the Other into a waking slumber - the defanging of the Other by removing his freedom. It is only when the Other exists as a potential subject that one's freedom is in jeopardy - Zeus has no fear of puppets when he, the supreme puppet-master dangles them upon a string - they are objects and nothing more, completely incapable of exercising their freedom and, therefore, completely unable to endanger his freedom. And so, the puppet-master must perform the ritual, the exhausting rites that hold the puppets to his thrall - all of humanity are Zeus' slaves, but Zeus is entrapped in the divine paradox: Where there is one slave, there are two - the enslaved reciprocate their captivity through the unspoken requirements that give life to the slave-master relationship.
How then, one may ask, is Zeus free? In what way can the freedom possessed by Zeus be even compared to Orestes' freedom when Zeus is forced to play out his part upon the stage of history? But the nature of the question allows me to pose the counter-question - how is Orestes free? To flee into exile, the constant pain of solitary wandering - what sort of freedom is this, that Orestes cannot bear to live within the confinement of society? If one is to argue that Zeus is shackled by his relationship with the slaves, then one must also see that Orestes is bound by a restraining order that keeps his presence away from civilization! Yet this exile is not an obligation - it was chosen. As a free man, Orestes had the option to live with society and give up his freedom - in choosing exile, he chooses the path he believes is best. This is the only constraint upon the free man: Fallibility - the uncertainty of the future that lies ahead, the worry that one may have chosen incorrectly. But a choice was presented and a decision made. This realization is not lost upon Zeus, for he tells Aegistheus the same - that no one has doomed them but themselves, their own passion for order. Once again, a crossroads presented itself and a path was chosen.
For now, I shall leave this matter be - the cosmic struggle between Order and Chaos has not been resolved, the matter of Existentialist freedom and human society unfinished. Where do we go from here? What do we do for our dreams to survive? How do we keep all our passions alive? Certainties disappear when a fallible mortal grasps at the divinity of freedom - to reconcile our conflicting dreams and passions, to carve our own path in the world - this is the creation of meaning, this is the quest that forges our lives.
Most Humbly,
Kahlyban.
Aristotle once said that a person who is either unable or has no need to live in society must either be a beast or a god. Whilst reading through Sartre's play, The Flies, its subtle undertones of this contrast between beast and god in their respective interactions with human society caught my eye. As one who is deeply interested in the relationship between society and the individual, I find that the chaos espoused by Existentialist freedom pushed to its logical limits exists in a dualist conflict with the order that I believe is necessary for the proper functioning of society.
If a man is said to be free, then does this not mean that he is free to accept or reject the dictates of society that had been imposed upon him? By presenting the rejection of society as an option, the necessity of living as part of a community is removed - yet though the free man no longer needs society, the question of living is not yet answered for him. What path is the free man to choose? What life is the free man to live? Without society to dictate, without society to choose for him - he is alone, alone in his own freedom. There is no one to choose for him and thus there is no one to blame for his own mistakes, the burden of freedom is not a dream but rather a nightmare. Which path must the wayward soul choose? Is he to remove himself from society and live as a beast? Is he to return to society and dominate the mindless cattle that live within as a god?
For Orestes, the path chosen was exile - no longer was he part of the flock, so no longer will he live among the people of Argos. It has been said that the Masses will always fear the Individual because of his individuality - the utter incomprehensibility of a person who insists on marching to a different beat, who insists on his right to be miserable: "Why will this wayward soul not partake in our brave new world? What is the use of freedom? Does it feed you, clothe you, pleasure you? Come wayward soul come, come to us and we will accept you - ask and you will be given! We ask for nothing, a mere trifle - just be one of us. Be part of the group so that we may grow stronger, be part of the group so that none of us will ever be lonely!"
Argos, Argos - men and women irresponsible! Who murdered Agamemnon? Why nobody! Nobody at all! He died by accident, an accident in the form of an axe cleaving his skull! Is that not so? Aegistheus, standing beside a bloody corpse, axe hanging loosely by a listless grip - so little courage, so little courage! The man had enough courage to murder, but lacked the courage to accept responsibility - but this is not all that surprising, for the burden of murder is light when it is done without acknowledging responsibility. It becomes an accident, the product of the zephyr - a momentary madness, a mistake of epic proportions!
The crime the doer disowns becomes ownerless - no man's crime. But is that true? If it is, then whence come the flies? And what need is there for atonement? Where there is just punishment there is foul crime! This need to maintain the balance is understandable to the people of Argos - though there has been no crime, only accident, the dead must be appeased all the same. They had lost their life, however many years that still remain to their petty little lives on this miserable rock, so the people of Argos must give it back to them. It will give the ghosts pleasure to see them in fear and trembling, it will give the dead satisfaction to live once again as they had lived in life - a day of the dead, where the dead live as living! The guilt of the people - living without joy and pleasure, in constant fear of ghastly specters - the constant self-punishment of a life lived in misery, only this may appease the dead and assuage the excruciating pain of guilt within!
The people look to King Aegistheus, the one who coronated in blood, to lead them on their miserable little way. They pay no heed to the bloodstains, they see not the confusion - they see nothing but the mask he wears, the masquerade of the blind in which they all partake. He knows not the way, but that is unimportant - they believe in him, he is the figure of authority - where is the need of thinking, of responsibility, when it is so much easier to simply nod and agree? Their troubles and tribulations seem so distant, their quandaries so simple - all that is needed is the power of belief: "The King is infallible, the King is omniscient - why should I, a creature so confused, think for myself? What if I make a mistake? The King knows best, so I do as he says!"
But what do we do now? Now that the King is dead, how are we to act? Adrift in a bitter sea, how does one make the journey of a thousand leagues after the navigator has been murdered so foully? Orestes came, Orestes slew, Orestes left - his legacy is one of anguish for the people of Argos. To whom do they turn to now, a people without a King? Forced to look within, do they recoil at horror at the emptiness of a life spent in mindless drudgery? The sin of Aegistheus is no longer theirs to keep, they can no longer distract themselves from the future by flagellating themselves upon the burden of past crimes. The people of Argos have been given their freedom, but was this freedom Orestes' to give?
Freedom is a double-edged sword - the palpable anguish of a man who discovers he is free is assuaged only by the unburdened heart with which he would live the rest of his life. Yet this journey is a solitary one, a personal one - the circumstances that resulted in Orestes' realization do not apply to the people of Argos. If freedom is the last bulwark of individualism, how then can the freedom of one be dictated to the many? Orestes, looking up to Heaven and the gods for the last time, became enlightened - he is free and thus he may choose the path he wished to take. He paid no heed to the warnings of Zeus, the cackling laughter of the Furies - he had chosen his freedom, he has accepted his anguish - the price of the bride has been met, the dowry accepted. But did the people of Argos have this luxury? Were they given the choice between freedom and chains, like Electra was? The most basic freedom is not, as some had said, the right to say two and two makes four - the most basic freedom is the choice between a life of slavery and a life as an outcast! From this basic freedom, all other freedoms may spring forth - yet with this freedom deprived, the freedom of Argos is hollow indeed!
But why must Orestes walk off into the setting sun? Has he not oh-so-benevolently "freed" the masses of Argos? Why then is such an act necessary? The siren's lure of freedom is strong, my friend; Orestes is not the pied piper that carries the tune and draws the flies away from Argos - no, Orestes is the follower, who madly dances to the tune of freedom, a tune that leads him merrily away from society and into the wilderness to live as a beast! How can a free man live in society? By its very nature, society is a series of contracts and obligations within a community - all these serve to harness and restrict the freedom of its inhabitants! Granted, these laws we live under are for our protection and the protection of those around us - yet even this moderating influence must be rejected in the immolating chaos of freedom personified! For to be free is to live under no law but one's own - to create meaning for oneself, and not allow society to dictate meaning to us. If Orestes was to live in Argos, he must first sacrifice his newly-gained freedom to the maw of the Argosian Leviathan!
However, the descent into chaos and madness is only the path of Orestes and those like him. Such is the path of the beast, the free man who wishes not to create but to merely live out his freedom in his own unique manner. Yet one must not forget that there are two characters who are free in Sartre's delightful play - one is Orestes and the other Zeus! As god of gods, Zeus sits on his throne upon the heights of Olympus, weaving into reality the very fabric of the universe - he occupies the lonely apex of a hierarchy encompassing all of creation, for he has none to look up to, none to which he could turn - Zeus too is free! He is free, yet he is bound.
For millennia, Zeus has danced his masquerade, for eons more shall he do the same - so long as Zeus remains god, he remains part of society. As part of society, all the world watches and all the world waits - the expectant eyes of a slumbering multitude. The sorcerer stands in precarious balance upon the pyramid's point - below him stand the masses, enthralled by his arcane gestures, lulled by the vivid illusions. Yet there is the fear, the fear that a single mis-step will break the spell and never again will the masses be chained again - the bitterness of knowing men are free, and they remain slaves only by vice of their ignorance!
The fear of Zeus is no different from the fear of Orestes - the existence of the Other is the existence of a threat upon one's freedom. When there is another, one's Narcissistic universe shatters - no longer is everything centered around oneself, for the Other must be taken into account. While Orestes seeks to remove the Other by removing himself from the Other's presence, Zeus attempts to lull the Other into a waking slumber - the defanging of the Other by removing his freedom. It is only when the Other exists as a potential subject that one's freedom is in jeopardy - Zeus has no fear of puppets when he, the supreme puppet-master dangles them upon a string - they are objects and nothing more, completely incapable of exercising their freedom and, therefore, completely unable to endanger his freedom. And so, the puppet-master must perform the ritual, the exhausting rites that hold the puppets to his thrall - all of humanity are Zeus' slaves, but Zeus is entrapped in the divine paradox: Where there is one slave, there are two - the enslaved reciprocate their captivity through the unspoken requirements that give life to the slave-master relationship.
How then, one may ask, is Zeus free? In what way can the freedom possessed by Zeus be even compared to Orestes' freedom when Zeus is forced to play out his part upon the stage of history? But the nature of the question allows me to pose the counter-question - how is Orestes free? To flee into exile, the constant pain of solitary wandering - what sort of freedom is this, that Orestes cannot bear to live within the confinement of society? If one is to argue that Zeus is shackled by his relationship with the slaves, then one must also see that Orestes is bound by a restraining order that keeps his presence away from civilization! Yet this exile is not an obligation - it was chosen. As a free man, Orestes had the option to live with society and give up his freedom - in choosing exile, he chooses the path he believes is best. This is the only constraint upon the free man: Fallibility - the uncertainty of the future that lies ahead, the worry that one may have chosen incorrectly. But a choice was presented and a decision made. This realization is not lost upon Zeus, for he tells Aegistheus the same - that no one has doomed them but themselves, their own passion for order. Once again, a crossroads presented itself and a path was chosen.
For now, I shall leave this matter be - the cosmic struggle between Order and Chaos has not been resolved, the matter of Existentialist freedom and human society unfinished. Where do we go from here? What do we do for our dreams to survive? How do we keep all our passions alive? Certainties disappear when a fallible mortal grasps at the divinity of freedom - to reconcile our conflicting dreams and passions, to carve our own path in the world - this is the creation of meaning, this is the quest that forges our lives.
Most Humbly,
Kahlyban.