Due to the poor translation and the heavy and unappealing subject matter, I gave up halfway.

Of course, I shouldn't be unfair. Some parts of it that were not poorly translated and the text was not heavy were very appealing to me, such as the parts related to the analysis of the Karamazov brothers and Raskolnikov.

The story of the Karamazov brothers is a complex and profound exploration of human nature, with its vivid characters and intense conflicts.

And the analysis of Raskolnikov in Crime and Punishment is equally fascinating, delving into the psychological turmoil and moral dilemmas of the protagonist.

These aspects made me reluctant to completely abandon the reading, despite the initial difficulties caused by the translation and the nature of the subject.

Perhaps with a better translation and a more in-depth understanding of the background and context, I would be able to fully appreciate the beauty and significance of these literary works.

Unfortunately, this is a very boring book. I literally had to force myself to read it for 40 days, hoping that it would improve. I could not read more than 5 pages per day. There were some (very few) good quotes in it, and it was not a political propaganda. However, at the end, I was so upset that I gave up at the last 20 pages.

I had high hopes for this book at the beginning, but as I continued to read, I found it越来越无趣. The story did not develop in an interesting way, and the characters were not very engaging. I tried my best to stick with it, thinking that maybe there would be a twist or something that would make it worth reading.

But as the days went by, I became more and more frustrated. I felt like I was wasting my time reading something that was not enjoyable. In the end, I just could not take it anymore and gave up. It was a disappointing experience, and I would not recommend this book to anyone.

A Great Book and a Small Disappointment

It's my mistake. I always thought that in "The Rebel" I would find above all Camus' opinions and a wide space for reflection. Instead, I have found a good historical review of the idea of revolt and nihilism in the mouths of many philosophers and thinkers. It didn't displease me, but it's not what I expected and, at times, it seemed a bit dense to me (it repeats and repeats the same ideas).

The final sections, one focused on art and the other on midday thought, seemed much more interesting to me, as it is where Camus reworks the entire history and makes more of his reading in the form of a summary, also leaving the conversation with the reader more open.

In summary, a reading for self-cultivation, very interesting, but that needs to be taken calmly.

The first reading date is 05,05,2021.

The translator is Bahraini Mousti.

The language of Kafka in this book is so complex and convoluted that I struggled to finish it until the end.

The translation could have also helped in a certain way, but it didn't!

In my opinion, although Kafka is a prominent and excellent thinker, he has not done well in terms of the writing of this book!

A perennial, arduous and enlightening journey!
RTC

Real-Time Communications (RTC) has embarked on a journey that is both perennial and arduous. It has been a continuous exploration and development process, facing numerous challenges along the way. However, this journey has also been highly enlightening.

Over the years, RTC has strived to improve the quality and efficiency of real-time communication. It has overcome difficulties such as network latency, bandwidth limitations, and security risks. Through continuous innovation and technological upgrades, RTC has enabled people to communicate more conveniently and effectively across distances and time zones.

The journey of RTC is not only about technological progress but also about the impact it has on society. It has transformed the way we work, learn, and socialize. It has brought people closer together and made the world a smaller place. As RTC continues to evolve, it will undoubtedly bring more opportunities and challenges, but one thing is certain - its journey will continue to be both arduous and enlightening.

Rebellion, in its most radical sense, leads to tyranny, Camus argues in this extended essay. It begins, as these things often do, with the Greeks. There is also a significant discussion on the ideas of French thinkers from the Marquis de Sade down regarding rebellion. This essay serves as a fantastic introduction to the works of many thinkers who are unknown outside the Francophone world. It also offers a stimulating discussion on those, such as Milton and Blake, who are more familiar to us in the English-speaking world. Camus delves deep into the concept of rebellion, exploring its various manifestations and consequences. He examines how rebellion can start as a noble cause but may ultimately lead to tyranny. Through his analysis, he provides valuable insights into the nature of human behavior and the pursuit of freedom.

Camus' essay is a remarkable piece in which he presents a strong argument against totalitarianism, communism, fascism, and revolution.

He makes an interesting distinction between former revolutions and those that have occurred since the 20th century. According to him, the latter have much more to do with "death as the goal."

This is an interesting work. So far, it is the most political essay that I have read. However, it is less accessible than, for example, "Sisyphus" and his novels.

Now I'm going back to reading Tolstoy.

Overall, Camus' exploration of these complex political and social ideas provides valuable insights and food for thought. It challenges the reader to consider the true nature and consequences of different political ideologies and revolutionary movements.

His writing style, although perhaps a bit more difficult in this essay compared to some of his other works, still manages to engage and provoke.

As I continue my literary journey, I look forward to further exploring the works of Camus and other great thinkers.

Re-Reading April 2025

Original review 11/25/13:

Whew. This is one book that I will unabashedly confirm my pride in having read. It was that difficult. In the past, I probably would have given up on it. But I picked it up in honor of Camus' 100th birthday, and it would have been disrespectful to his memory to leave it unfinished.

What's more, it was damn compelling and thought-provoking for a good chunk of the time. Not uniformly, as there was a ton of stuff that just flew over my head. But all of the "Historical Rebellion" (Part III), for instance, was fascinating. "Metaphysical Rebellion" (Part II) was much more difficult, and whole sections of it (specifically "Dandies' Rebellion" and "Poets' Rebellion") were inaccessible to me.

So what's he saying? These are the highlights as I understand them: To rebel is to affirm a collective humanity - "I rebel, therefore we exist." But it is also a negation, a defining of a limit - "Beyond this point you cannot go." And Rebellion has always been inextricably linked with Revolution. But Revolution authorizes killing, so one of the biggest questions for proponents of Rebellion is whether or not murder is acceptable. If it is, you are on the road to "Totality," as Camus calls it, but which I think of as Despotism. If murder is not acceptable, you're pretty much screwed anyway because the State will silence you.

My absolute favorite section in the book (and indeed, it appears to be Camus' favorite as well) is titled "The Fastidious Assassins" in the "Historical Rebellion" Part III. It concerns the Russian terrorists of the Socialist-Republican party in the early 20th century. These people, for Camus, were the perfect manifestation of rebellion in that they judiciously selected their targets, avoided incidental casualties, and voluntarily sacrificed their own lives in the wake of the murders they committed.

For Camus, voluntary self-sacrifice is the only conceivable justification for murder. Through death on both sides of the struggle, a new value can be given life.

Camus then proceeds to convincingly dismantle Marxism, specifically its pretentions toward science and rationality. And he returns again to the idea of limits, which is somewhat obscure the way he talks about it, but which actually makes sense the more you think about it. In this way, he argues against Absolute Freedom, since that includes the freedom to kill and the freedom to reign over everyone else. Absolute Justice tramples upon freedom, since the common man is denied the freedom of determining what is just. The ideal road lies in both of them being limited and working together within those limits.

This is one of those books that makes your brain hurt. It was not a pleasurable read, but it was an important one, and occasionally an inspiring one. Whereas before I liked Camus a lot, now I love him. I will now have to re-read The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays.

Not Bad Reviews

@pointblaek

Although I've always been temperamentally skeptical of Utopias, I'm truly grateful to Camus. When I was just 15 years old, he completely inoculated me against the various postures of chic revolt that are so prevalent among the teenagers of bored, affluent nations. There was no silk-screened Che across my bosom.

Revolutions, as Camus taught me, aren't simply secular versions of the Rapture, where the "bad" government miraculously disappears and is replaced by a new, "good" one. Instead, revolution is generally a social calamity, a nightmare of inhumanity. One regime dissolves, and in the already violent chaos of meltdown, various factions engage in killing, raping, and pillaging in a desperate struggle for ascendancy.

The leaders of these factions often turn out to be nihilistic knaves like Lenin or Hitler. These individuals, who would have lived, ranted, been ignored, and died safely on the fringes of the old society, now rise to power in the chaos.

This book by Camus is an awe-inspiring display of philosophical insight and moral awareness. Next to Camus, Sartre appears at best as a naive bourgeois. From a distance, he lionizes the revolutionaries who, if given the chance, would have destroyed him. At worst, Sartre is a cynical degenerate, a knowing flatterer of tyrants. Camus' work truly stands out as a profound and essential exploration of the nature of revolution and its consequences.

You know those kinds of books that you read in the midst of the chaos and noise of everyday life. You keep reading and finally finish it, but all the while you are aware that so much has passed by, and you can only sense the rush of wisdom, ideas, and reflections soaring right over your head.

That's exactly how I feel about this book.

It's that kind of feeling when you are reading more or less in the way you usually do - with a lot of attention here and too little attention there - and all the while you just know deep down that you're going to have to read it again.

This book has such power, such profound insight, and such remarkable scholarship. It is written by a magnificent writer who delves into some of the most urgent issues of our time.

For example, in George Packer's outstanding "Assassin's Gate," he describes the brilliant and eccentric Iraqi exile Kenan Makiya. Makiya is the sort of person who is trying to understand modern Iraq (both before and after the war) while eating cheeseburgers and sipping red wine in diners in Cambridge. He has a wrinkled shirt, a strange walk, and wears glasses, and so on. So one day, he comes storming into a local café, waving a book in his hands.

"I found a master text!" he shouts triumphantly.

Guess who the author of that book is?

After a long time, I finally finished this extraordinary and wild masterpiece

I admit – when I first picked up The Rebel in this artful Penguin edition, my mind was filled with images of beatniks. They were wearing berets, smoking cigarettes, and engaging in intense discussions over existentialist espressos about the absurdity of man and the importance of resistance.

However, as I delved into the book, I found myself immersed in pages of difficult yet beautifully-phrased polemic. I was often left unsure of what was being argued for or against. It's not that Camus rambles; rather, he seems to take a long, philosophical-historical path to arrive at the most obvious conclusion: Murder is always wrong, without exception. Whenever we support a system of faith, justice, or equality that justifies depriving others of life and liberty, we fall into "nihilism" or, more simply, inhumanity.

Camus begins with the provocative aphorism "Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is" and concludes with a line worthy of a flower-child: "instead of killing and dying in order to produce the being that we are not, we have to live and let live in order to create what we are." The meditative chapters in between are both demanding and sometimes revealing.

This is far from my favorite book by Camus (I have a particular fondness for L'Étranger), but when he published it in 1951, it was an astonishing act of courage. It earned him ridicule, isolation, and the enmity of Sartre & Co. He is a hero to me, especially in his refusal to be one.