Wednesday, February 22, 2006
JUST FINISHED: The Stranger by Albert Camus. Once fiction opened up to the inner lives of the characters, becoming about more than external events, it became a conduit for writers to discover their own minds. A prime example of this trend in action is Albert Camus' short novel The Stranger, which on the face of it is the story of Mersault, a young man in French-era Algeirs, and the series of events that leads to his committing a senseless murder and the aftermath of his actions. Of course, that's only the bare surface of what's going on here; Camus uses these events to explore his philosophy--absurdist, literary critics take pains to point out, not existentalist--and, in the process, creates a compelling, disturbing story.
From the start, Meursault, who narrates his own tale, is an unsettling character, not only in the action that he takes in the story, but in his unexamined approach to life. He'd help his disreputable friend write an inflammatory letter just as soon as he'd refuse, marry his girlfriend as soon as he wouldn't, take the post in Paris or not. He does seem to care about what people think about him, but won't lie about his feelings to preserve social conventions, or even if his life depends on it, as it eventually does. It was very satisfying when I found out later that Camus cited Melville as an influence, since I kept thinking back to Melville's Bartelby the Scrivener, whose title character "preferred not to", while Camus' central character was so alienated from the world around him that he had no preference at all.
The final pages snap everything that came before into focus...to a point, anyway. At the very least, it casts Meursault's actions in a strikingly different light. As a novel and a statement of philosophy, this is a story that demands a reread, so of course I will...or maybe not. It's all the same, I suppose.
An interesting summary of critical opinion is available online if you need some help figuring out what it all means, and the Salon article on Camus might as well be the introduction my copy of the book didn't have.
From the start, Meursault, who narrates his own tale, is an unsettling character, not only in the action that he takes in the story, but in his unexamined approach to life. He'd help his disreputable friend write an inflammatory letter just as soon as he'd refuse, marry his girlfriend as soon as he wouldn't, take the post in Paris or not. He does seem to care about what people think about him, but won't lie about his feelings to preserve social conventions, or even if his life depends on it, as it eventually does. It was very satisfying when I found out later that Camus cited Melville as an influence, since I kept thinking back to Melville's Bartelby the Scrivener, whose title character "preferred not to", while Camus' central character was so alienated from the world around him that he had no preference at all.
The final pages snap everything that came before into focus...to a point, anyway. At the very least, it casts Meursault's actions in a strikingly different light. As a novel and a statement of philosophy, this is a story that demands a reread, so of course I will...or maybe not. It's all the same, I suppose.
An interesting summary of critical opinion is available online if you need some help figuring out what it all means, and the Salon article on Camus might as well be the introduction my copy of the book didn't have.
|| Eric 12:24 AM#
