The turmoil and trauma caused by the World Wars can be seen in changes in art, culture, and philosophy. Against the backdrop of trench warfare, air raids, death camps, and atomic bombs, people begin to question what warrants death and destruction. This puts the existence of God into question: how could an omnipotent and omniscient God allow such atrocities to take place? Religion gives people purpose, sets morals, and helps them make sense of the world. But following the “Death of God”—the unbelief in Godʼs existence—life becomes a void of meaninglessness. What then, as cliché as it sounds, is the meaning of life? A nihilist would say that life has no meaning and there is nothing you can do about it. An absurdist would say that life has no objective meaning, but you can still live a fulfilling life. An existentialist would agree with the absurdist, but raise the objection that you can create your own subjective meaning through your actions. The intertwined nature of these three philosophies is exemplified in the depiction of Grendel and the dragon in John Gardnerʼs novel Grendel (1971). For Grendel and me, existentialism is about embracing the absurdity of existence and creating meaning with every moment we live.

Before the Death of God, essence precedes existence. It is the notion that we are born with essence—core properties essential to who we are as individuals. For instance, the essence of a cup is to hold liquid; its purpose and functions were predetermined before the thing itself existed. In contrast, the motto of existentialism declares: “Existence precedes essence.” This proposition by Jean-Paul Sartre, a 20th-century philosopher and writer whose name became synonymous with the existentialist movement, proclaims that “first of all, man exists” and only afterward does he “define himself” (Roark). In other words, there is no innate human nature—“what you are (your essence) is the result of your choices (your existence) rather than the reverse” (Flynn). In this sense, human existence itself is no different from that of an amoeba or a bacteria, both lacking in “inherent, larger essential meaning to life” with just “random existence itself” in sight (Drake). The earliest memory we have is the dawn of our consciousness, so to speak. Before birth, there is nothing, and only after we gain consciousness comes everything else.

Tragically, our existence is a race against time. Humans are “fundamentally time-bound beings” (Flynn). Calendars and clocks, both invented by humans to help quantify the passing of time, dictate the pattern of our lives. The alarm wakes us up, we brush our teeth, eat breakfast (unless weʼre in a rush), go about our day, return home, sleep… rinse and repeat. Seems boring, right? But unlike “measurable, ‘clockʼ time”, through an existentialistʼs perspective, “lived time is qualitative,” meaning itʼs measured by its quality rather than its quantity (Drake). Therefore, time is of the essence. Humans donʼt live long; the fact that you and everyone you know will likely only exist for about 70 years or so does not negate the value of life. What really matters is savoring the moments you do have and finding meaning and beauty in your brief, fleeting life, before the inevitable end that is death.

Now that weʼve established that the universe is inherently meaningless, we exist, and life is short, whatʼs next? Well, it is time to create meaning. The question of finding out who we are isnʼt answered for us by an external force, whether it be science or religion, but rather something we must answer ourselves through the choices we make and experiences of our actual lives. All this “meaninglessness”—this lack of a higher-level, supernatural deity or deities—means that “we are entirely free” to make any choices we desire (Drake). Our entire life is being constructed moment by moment with each choice we make, and we are free to decide for ourselves the meaning (or meanings) of life. Your essence is “what [you] make of [yourself] through [your] free choices” (Burnham and Papandreopoulos). Whereas nihilism is the belief that “nothing matters”, existentialism is the attempt to confront and deal with meaninglessness (Drake). Sure, you can say that nothing matters in the end. Or, you can choose to not succumb to nihilism and defy the inherently meaningless universe by deciding what matters to you. The choice is entirely up to you.

But on the flip side, we are also entirely responsible for the consequences of our actions. We as an individual “must determine what is right vs. wrong,” because failure to create meaning, morality, and laws will lead to injustice, suffering, and wars (Drake). And when things go wrong (which, historically, has happened many, many times), we have no one to blame but ourselves. We have the power to will meaning into existence, but we also carry the burden of our responsibility. And it all comes back to the individual. After all, existentialism is an individualistic philosophy. It is influenced by both Socratesʼ practice of “care of the self” and Renaissance humanism which places man on a pedestal as the finite being with the utmost importance (Burnham and Papandreopoulos). Furthermore, as seen in Sartreʼs writing, stating that “man is nothing else but what he makes of himself,” existentialism is centered around the individualʼs pursuit of identity and meaning. However, this is not to say that existentialists are all egomaniacs. Existentialists recognize society as a collective of individuals. The world runs on causes and effects, and the choices you make will dictate what happens not only to you but to many around you (Drake). Still, in a strictly existential worldview, the focus is the self. There is no predetermined path or destiny, only the outcome of our choices and the responsibility we must take for them.

“Nevertheless, something will come of all this.”
— John Gardner, in his novel Grendel (1971)

Elements of existentialism can be seen throughout John Gardnerʼs Grendel (1971). The two characters who adhere to the principles of existentialism are Grendel and the dragon. One interpretation of existentialism is that the freedom to make choices is limited by the fact that we are all “thrown into the world” (Bonevac). Nobody had a choice in choosing when to be born, and the same goes for Grendel. It raises the question “If I didnʼt choose to be here, then why am I here?” According to Martin Heidegger, a (controversial) German philosopher, this will lead to one feeling like “a stranger in the world.” (Bonevac). Grendelʼs hostility and distaste towards the two sides of the world—the world of humans and the world of nature—reflects his feeling of alienation. He frowns upon the “mindless [and] mechanical” goats whose only “business” is “to climb [the hills]” over and over (Gardner). He feels disconnected from nature, while at the same time being ostracized from human society. Grendel is forced to confront the fact that he doesnʼt seem to fit in anywhere, so what then is his purpose in life? Eventually, he finds one. When Grendel launched his first raid, he “felt a strange, unearthly joy . . . as if [heʼd] made some incredible discovery.” He is “born again” and dubs himself “Ruiner of Meadhalls, Wrecker of Kings” (Gardner). It is at this moment that Grendel finds his place in the world: to be a destroyer. The humans view Grendel as a monster. Ultimately, he himself adopted the persona of an evil monster as his meaning. Through his decisions, he alone bears the consequences. However, Grendel ends up regretting his decisions. Philosophy is fluid, and Grendel becomes more nihilistic as he moves towards death. Instead of blaming his choices for leading to this moment, he blames the random, accidental nature of the world for his demise.

Time and space. “The most impersonal phenomena in our lives.” Time is measured in minutes or seconds, and space in yards or meters. Since the time of our existence is limited, for the existentialist, “the value and meaning of . . . lived time” is measured by our “attitudes and choices” (Flynn). In other words, itʼs about how we divide up our time and what we use it for. Grendel personalizes his time by setting a “[kill count] quota for the [raid] season” and choosing to only attack the mead hall in winter (Gardner). He sets a schedule to live by and a goal to achieve, from which he derives meaning—his purpose of fulfilling the role of an evil monster. And by choosing the mead hall as his designated kill spot/location of attacks, he personalizes space. The existentialistʼs drive to personalize the impersonal further extends to truth. According to Kierkegaard, truth is found in subjectivity (Drake). For the humans in Grendel, the Shaperʼs poetry—a retelling of past events, prone to exaggeration and fabrication—is the truth. For Grendel, however, it is nothing more than a distortion of the truth, his truth. Grendel maintains that his lived experience and understanding of past events is the ultimate truth; it is something he lived and died for.

Existentialism is the root of nihilism. Embodied by the character of the dragon, these two philosophies overlap and intertwine. In the dragonʼs (one-sided) conversation with Grendel, he goes on a rant about the “laws of nature” and how the universe is so endless that everything that has or will happen are “mere ripple in Timeʼs stream” (Gardner). This conforms with existentialism, which has a “strictly material, scientific, [and] rational . . . view of existence” (Drake). The dragon also believes that things happen “just because”—we are born into this world by pure chance. However, rather than creating his own meaning, he decides to turn to nihilism, believing that every choice you make is essentially useless because nothing matters. Like an existentialist, he gives himself a purpose of hoarding gold. Like a nihilist, he doesnʼt derive any larger meaning from it.