Among the many disturbing discoveries of the twentieth century was the revelation that life is essentially a absurd. Kafka was the first to develop this idea. In his quest stories, the quest hero is constantly frustrated, always unable to gain admission to the castle or the law, but equally unable to abundant the quest. IN other words, the search for meaning will never find meaning but must continue even so.
And, while Kafka was developing this theme in the literature, physicists were coming to the conclusion that, at the weird sub atomic level, nothing exists unless it is observed. So the search for the nature of reality revealed that in fact there was no reality. Werner Heisenberg, discoverer of the uncertainty principal, declared in despair that nature it self was absurd.
In Philosophy Camus compared the human condition to the fate of Sisyphus, condemned to push a rock up a hill again and again for all time. An absurd fate - but Camus insisted Sisyphus could be happy.
Then Beckett added a new twist - a quest saga without a quest. In waiting for Godot his pair tramps modern men are too lazy and incurious to go on a journey in search of meaning. Instead they just hang about waiting for meaning to come to them. Godot was bound to turn up soon, they repeated endlessly, while knowing in their hearts that he never would. For Beckett absurdity was hilarious.
And mordant laughter seems the only possible response. There is no way back to certainty, simplicity and innocence, only the way forward into confusion, uncertainty and knowingness. The gasp of wonder becomes the sardonic bark of disbelief. Absurdity is the new sublime.
