The Stranger by Albert Camus – A book review
“My mother died today. Or, maybe, yesterday; I can’t be sure. The telegram from the Home says: Your mother passed away. Funeral tomorrow. Deep sympathy. Which leaves the matter doubtful; it could have been yesterday “
This is how the protagonist starts the story. What a strange way to start a novel. What’s more, by the time it ends, Meursault – the main character, managers to maintain his absurdity. He is a rather detached figure. He describes most of what happens around him from a removed position. He doesn’t feel particularly compassionate towards her lover Marie and often only thinks about her in moments of sexual or physical attraction.
When Marie proposes him to marry her, his response is that it makes no difference to him. But if she is interested, he wouldn’t mind.
Everything about his personality is rather absurd. But what’s fascinating to see is, how, through this novel, Camus (perhaps unplanned & unintentionally) exemplifies all the modern virtues, we so passionately celebrate or preach.
Live in the moment. Don’t be judgmental. Keep your expectations low.
The protagonist is the embodiment of all those virtues. But as far as I am concerned, he was an annoying character. I wouldn’t want to be anything more than an acquaintance with him.
Which brings me to a realization, how superficial our preaching of these virtues is and how the presence of these virtues alone does not define the character of a person.
When the novel progresses towards its end, Meursault goes on an existential rant on the meaninglessness of life –
“Every man alive was privileged; there was only one class of men, the privileged class. All alike would be condemned one day; his turn, too, would come like others. And what difference does it make if, after being charged with murder, he were executed because he didn’t weep at his mother’s funeral, since it all came to the same thing in the end? The same thing for Salamanos’ wife and for Salamono’s dog”
The rant above is tandem to other things he goes on to say after this are described as the most magical part of this classic. But for me, I wholeheartedly and utterly despise this philosophy. Death is total, but it is not a means of justification for our deeds; good or bad.
This novel made me think, when we turn to search for our philosophy or mantra for living, whatever you call it, it might be more about finding what it isn’t than what it is.
