“Ce saint voyage a nom Progrès……........ This holy voyage in the name of Progress.I guess Albert Camus will compare what Hugo wrote to Sisyphus and his boulder… The fun is in the upward journey and the little spark of hope that grows in your mind as you near the summit. We might just make it this time! Though, of course, Sisyphus’ suffering is in having to keep being disappointed when the thing rolls back down the hill just before he could get to the top (and escape from his punishment), mostly because it happens so close to ‘arriving’ where he wanted. So the myth of Sisyphus is something of a half empty/filled glass.
De temps en temps, ils s’arrêtent,…....... From time to time it pauses,
rêveur, attentive, haletants, puis repartent. .. dreams, waits, hesitates, before resuming.
En route! Ils s’appellent, ils s’aident, ils vont!. On the way! They are called, aided, and went!
Les horizons aux horizons succedent,…. From horizons to succeeding horizons,
Les plateaux aux plateaux, les sommets aux sommets,.. From plateau to plateau, from summits to summits,
On avance toujours, on n’arrive jamais.. Always advancing, never arriving.”
- Victor Hugo, Les Châtiments
I’d say… it’s more humane (and tilted toward hopefulness) to say that the ideal one wants to reach lays just beyond the horizon. You’d never get to it either (since the horizon has this nasty habit of receding as you approach it), but at least you can’t even get near the thing (and so wouldn‘t be steeped in higher and higher hope with elapsed time) in the first place.
So what’s the point of this post? I haven’t a clue… Just wasting my brain cells musing in words and thought it more fun to also waste a few other folks’ time as well… while I’m at it.