I have an unwavering love for small books. I've always cherished them and will continue to do so.

You might be inclined to think, given various aspects of me, my actions, and my personality, that this is simply because of my laziness. That since I don't relish "putting" "effort" "into" "things," I'm fond of books that I can finish in an hour or two.

However, you'd be incorrect.

Well, perhaps you'd be a little bit right. My daily book-reading habit can become a bit cumbersome when I start delving into hefty tomes of YA fantasy and 20th-century classics. But still, that's not the only reason.

In fact, it's not even the main one.

There's just something about the concept of concision that I truly admire.

By definition, writing a 600-page volume filled with brilliant ideas, an advanced plot, and likable characters is relatively easy. Or at least easier than the alternative.

But when an author can achieve the same in 200 pages or less, those are the works that truly resonate with me.

This particular book is a very slim little thing, yet I spent hours immersed in it. Allowing its ideas to penetrate my mind and its prose to linger with me for a moment longer than what's required for basic comprehension.

And I'm extremely glad I did, in case that wasn't already evident. This month, I've read books of different lengths, qualities, and genres as I strive to clear my owned to-read list, but few will have the same impact on me as this one.

Also, just in case I overemphasized it - this book is still not intimidating. It's funny, short, and clear. You could breeze through it in an hour if you so desired.

But you simply won't want to.

Bottom line: I'm not really sure how to review philosophy, but in case it's not obvious, I'm leaving the ideas out of it. As my elementary school librarian would say: Read to find out.

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pre-review

I feel like my brain has just expanded by two sizes, Grinch's heart-style.

Review to come / 4 stars

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currently-reading updates

Who, me? Oh, I'm just reading a twentieth-century classic work of philosophy that won the Nobel Prize for Literature. No big deal.

And yes, my quest to become as pretentious as possible is progressing rather well, thank you.

clear ur shit prompt 5: your shortest book
Follow my progress here

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tbr review

How do I stop reading the first few pages of a book in a bookstore and using that as an excuse to justify buying it?

**Title: The Complexities of the Human Psyche in "The Fall"**

The novel "The Fall" presents a profound exploration of the human condition. The protagonist, Clamence, is a complex character who embodies the struggles and contradictions within us all. "A wise study cannot be resisted by the contemporary conscience." -New York Times/Review of "The Fall".

The philosophical undertones of the story emerge from the need for meaning and clarity in a world filled with confusion and fragmentation. Clamence stands at the peak of the conflict between the self and the other, sometimes fighting himself, sometimes casting himself onto the stage of accusation, or wallowing in the guilt of being the accused. "We are extraordinary creations. Each of us wants to judge something. Each of us insists on our innocence, no matter what it takes, even if it means accusing all of humanity and the sky as well."

Who among us knows to what extent our thoughts will lead us under the guise of torture and the individual spasms in what we say and do? "Covered in ashes, my hair tousled, my face smeared with filth, and with sharp eyes, I stand before humanity on a Sunday, naked and without losing focus on the effect I have created, and I say, 'I am the lowest of the low,' and then gradually, I shift from 'I' to 'we.'" Who dares to know to what degree our individuality and our obliviousness to our true motives in moments of uncertainty and vagueness will carry us?

There is a certain weariness in the narrative, a great deal of worry, and a dose of perseverance that stands trembling between hesitation and mourning. "Man plays the role of the mortal man, and after a few weeks, he doesn't know if he can continue until the next day." The passage of time and the loss of what the word means are the things that touch our souls in a mysterious and indistinct way.

The mental states may lie hidden in the texts that often stop us to the point of confusion, with the speed of realization that we have passed over what we would have spent an hour pondering and still not plumbed the depths. Here is Camus, with his ambiguity, his presence, his suppressed screams, and his dual philosophy. "I will measure the years that separate me from my end. I will search for examples of people in my situation who have died. And the idea that I will not have enough time to fulfill my mission has tormented me."

A human void, a dense fog, draws a black canvas... a reality whose darkness is smeared with the phantoms of human grief. Man frees himself from the constraints at the very moment he ties himself with their chains... and other fetters... stretching until the end of his life. He falls from the heights of his lofty dreams to the lowest descent to flee from that spirit that haunts him and taunts him cruelly... But... where is the escape?

We naively believe that we are outside the stage of condemnation, and no one bears a sin that burdens their conscience, but in a moment of weakness, we perceive the most extreme image... which is further from all possible assumptions. The development of deficiency, a farce on the verge of tragedy, confusion, interference, voices from within, the vastness. "To be happy, it is necessary not to care too much about others."

The "I" is found throughout the novel, fluttering with the intensity of self-hatred, searching, and dissecting... Everything is related to a spirit that resists its problems and the crisis of dissolution in a reality that defies analysis and fragmentation. When does the body rest? And it doesn't know from which fall it came out, and in which fall it will land... And perhaps in the falls, there is something that falls without feeling... And it tries to come out innocent despite the filth, the lies, and the evidence. "Others will not be convinced by your arguments, your sincerity, the truth of your sufferings, except by your death." And perhaps after the layer of dust... we will rest!

One plays at being immortal and after a few weeks one doesn't even know whether or not one can hang on till the next day. This profound statement by Albert Camus in The Fall sets the tone for the narrator's musings. Jean-Baptiste Clamence, the judge-penitent, delivers a monologue to a stranger in a shabby Amsterdam watering hole. He pronounces that a single sentence suffices for modern man: he fornicated and read the newspapers. Over several evenings, his uninterrupted musings continue. Clamence admits that alcohol and women were his only solace. He has judged himself and his life, finding himself guilty on all counts.

My personal reaction to Clamence's monologue is influenced by Carl Jung's words. I have frequently seen people become neurotic when they content themselves with inadequate or wrong answers to life's questions. Camus portrays a modern man who is the embodiment of spiritual poverty. Greco-Roman philosophers like Cicero, Seneca, Epictetus, or Marcus Aurelius would challenge Clamence's claim that he knew everything about life at birth. The wisdom masters from the enlightenment tradition would also have little patience for his monologue.
I completed my reading of The Fall, a slow and careful reading befitting Camus. It is a masterpiece of concision and insight into the plight of modern human experience. The Wikipedia review states that Clamence, through his confession, sits in permanent judgment of himself and others. Would you be persuaded by his words?

Monologue - digression - apology of a life that is seemingly completely successful and happy, but completely empty inside. A hymn to the vanity of professional success, ethics, and appearance. And a loud slap on the sins of the everyday person. The protagonist is a successful lawyer who makes an account of his life to a stranger... and in his place could be any one of us... And the truth is... have you ever thought of catching a stranger, a kind of psychoanalyst, and telling him all your sins and misdeeds?

This monologue delves deep into the inner turmoil of a person who on the outside appears to have it all, yet feels a profound emptiness within. The lawyer's confession to the unknown listener serves as a cathartic moment, a chance to unburden himself of the weight of his seemingly perfect life. It makes us question the true meaning and value of success and happiness. Do we sacrifice our inner selves for the sake of appearances? Are we all hiding our own sins and misdeeds behind a facade of respectability? This thought-provoking piece challenges us to look within and examine our own lives, to be honest with ourselves about what truly matters.

The unseen heroes sometimes perform amazing feats...!

It precisely depicts the image of modern humans... It is one of the books that must be read carefully and cannot be easily dismissed.

Undoubtedly, I will read it again......

These unseen heroes are like hidden gems that shine brightly in the darkness. Their actions and contributions often go unnoticed, but they have a profound impact on our lives.

The book that accurately portrays the modern human condition is a valuable asset. It provides insights and perspectives that can help us better understand ourselves and the world around us.

Reading such a book requires concentration and an open mind. We cannot simply skim through it or reject it without giving it a fair chance.

Therefore, I am determined to read it again, hoping to gain even more from its pages and to appreciate the wisdom and knowledge it contains.

**Title: A Review of Camus' Work and Its Translations**

Recently, I reread a particular work, but this time I didn't enjoy the translation as much as before. The new translation starts with a sentence like "Sir, may I join you for a moment?" while the previous one I read began more like "You don't mind if I disturb you?" There was a double-meaning in that first sentence of the old version that I really loved and thought was Camus' original intention. Maybe I was wrong. I also vividly recall the sentence "It's not navigation but dreaming" from the opening paragraph of a specific chapter. I could picture Jean-Baptiste and the unnamed "you" on a boat, not just careening along a river but hopelessly through life. Somehow, I couldn't recapture that evocative image this time, which is quite sad.

Justin O'Brien's translation is the one I prefer over Robin Buss' translation. The first review described the work as awesome, powerful, almost scarily compressed, seductive, and peppered with ironic humor. It's a work that's initially unreadable, then becomes readable, and finally re-readable. Camus' Jean-Baptiste strips away the artifice and illusions of civilization, having clearly fallen out of it and witnessed its pointlessness. He spends the rest of his time trying to wrench others out too. Once the reader becomes aware of the absurd, it becomes an obsession, and they too would do anything in their power not to return to man's stubborn hope.

As bleak as this may sound, self-proclaimed judge-penitent Jean-Baptiste doesn't perform this act without having fun. He reels the reader in, deliberately teasing with hints of his future confessions and using measured jabs of dry wit. He provides this service to his "chers compatriotes" with pleasure. Why would I then ruin his fun? I've read it three times. It pairs well with The Myth of Sisyphus and a large glass of gin, that one and only palliative.

[20th book of 2021. Artist for this review is Dutch painter Hendrik Jan Wolter.]

A beautifully crafted, philosophical novel by Camus, which Sartre described as "the most beautiful and the least understood" of his works. It can be regarded as the "Steppenwolf" of Camus.

The story takes us back and forth between Paris and Amsterdam. Opening the first page is slightly disarming as the entire novel is written in the second-person. It consists of a series of dramatic-monologues by Jean-Baptiste Clamence, a former wealthy Parisian lawyer before his "fall". It's not only the fall of man in general but also the fall of this particular man, whose turmoil is palpable before our eyes.

Most of the present-day events occur in Amsterdam's Red-Light District, in a bar called "Mexico City". After some research, I discovered that the bar actually existed in Amsterdam at one time. As Clamence remarks, "Have you noticed that Amsterdam's concentric canals resemble the circles of hell? The middle-class hell, of course, filled with bad dreams. When one comes from the outside and gradually passes through those circles, life—and hence its crimes—becomes denser and darker. Here, we are in the last circle." So, the last circle of hell is the Red-Light District itself, where they often meet (Clamence and "you"). Camus描绘的Amsterdam恰到好处，它是灰色的、细雨蒙蒙的、雾蒙蒙的……与我记忆中的Amsterdam不同，我记忆中的它是明亮的、阳光灿烂的，而且是一个相对欢快的地方。

One of the novel's flaws is its length. It is just under 100 pages, and although it's not an easy or quick read by any means due to its density, I do wish it was longer. I don't want to attempt to delve into the philosophy of the book. I think it's a novel that one has to read for themselves, and as Sartre said, I might have misunderstood it. A lot happens in the last 10 pages, but until then, it's a rather meandering narrative that doesn't offer much until its climax. It's not quite as good as some of Camus' other books, but it's still a stunning, poignant little (yet long) read. I only have one Camus novel left to read now, his final, unfinished, "The First Man".

This book is truly a mirror for all involved, both those inside and those outside... Maybe all accusations are indeed confessions.

I don't know if what Camus wrote is the best, but it is the best for me: a first-rate short story, rich in meaning, with a single narrative voice (the protagonist and Camus are integrated), full of philosophy, exploring an entire life through a simple journey (almost one day between the protagonist and the listener), and revealing humanity in its raw and naked form.

The characters: Jean Calmanns, which means "John the Baptist" the purified and the anointed (the anointed of the Lord Jesus), and the second character is none other than the reader, and thus it becomes one of the earliest monologues in which the reader participates in the story in detail. And it seems that Camus wanted the reader to judge himself as well, and I will return to this later.

The story begins in one of the taverns of Amsterdam. Why Amsterdam? Because at that time it was a haven for nerves and mafias and gathered the "trash" from the four corners of Europe, and thus it was, as described by "Camus", the cesspool of hell. The tavern is called "Mexico City" or "Mexico City", which was built on the ruins of the original inhabitants after their extermination. And here the connection between them is created.

Calmanns, the repentant judge, or the repentant lawyer who lived a life of duality and duplicity, judges himself as a way to judge the entire prevailing era and the human conscience in its entirety (or what is left of it) through a single experience. For he is polite in the presence of people, harsh in his tongue, present in the presence of the crowd, emotional in the softness of his tongue, and he explores all of this through several examples, the most prominent of which are three:
1. Like the doorman who died.
2. Like the cyclist who hit the protagonist.
3. Like the suicide on the bridge.

In the first, he explored social hypocrisy and the procession that takes place after the death of a person without any connection or grain of love in his life. The second is personal breakdown in the face of oneself. And the third is insolence in the absence of the crowd.

Camus explores the futility of this life, its lies, its hypocrisy, and social artifice. He explores the convictions that people wear and change according to the occasion. He explores the lofty concepts such as freedom (he shows us his love for the existence of slaves implicitly), resistance (he found that he was with the concept but that does not suit him nor does it suit life in the pits!!), he explores the void in this futile life, referring to the concepts of justice, freedom, love, servitude, and friendship as the other side of the moon.

The end is a return to human nature and the word "if" but "time has passed now... and time will always pass... fortunately."
Far from the story, the absurd man Camus may be a man like Kafka, but the first began with self-criticism while the second will justify his goal. The man Camus is himself a Nietzschean (the superman), but the first is absurd and remorseful to some extent, while the second is a controlling center and remorse does not concern him.. Why this comparison? Because the three exist in life, so to which of them will the reader lean?!! And can Camus achieve his ultimate goal of pushing the reader to judge himself?!
In conclusion, back to reality, the era is still the same, the lies and artifice are still the same, the hypocrisy and leaders are still the same, most politicians are like the protagonist Camus (before he confesses), and thus we are still in the stage of "falling".
Finally, the translation. I am sorry about the translations of Camus into Arabic (although this translation is not among the worst short stories), but it is dry and dull, not proportional, and does not flow like the French story.

Do you desire to have the very bedrock upon which your entire perspective on life has been constructed, put into question?
Do you wish to witness the boundaries between the so-called good and evil, right and wrong, the moral and immoral blurred to such an extent that you are unable to differentiate one from the other?
Do you want to wipe away that cherished and precious point of reference, by which you have hitherto compared and weighed all your actions, thoughts, and feelings?

If the response to the above three questions is affirmative, then proceed and read Albert Camus. You might ultimately find yourself falling in love with his work, his ideas regarding moral ambiguity, and grudgingly marvelling at his genius.

Did I have an affection for this book? Indeed.
Did I fathom every facet of it? Both yes and no. It might require a few more readings on my part.
Did I have a passion for the prose? Oh, most definitely.
Do I know whether to classify this book as a sort of doctrine on nihilism or existentialism or a curious blend of both? Oh, not at all.

My second reading of this novel

This novel can be summarized in just five words: boredom, challenge, rebellion, futility, and aimlessness.

In the style of the artist, the writer, the poet, and the famous Belgian singer (Jacques Brel) and his very famous song "In the Port of Amsterdam" Jacques Brel - Le Port d'Amsterdam

The events of this novel, which is a monologue, begin as our protagonist engages in conversation, description, and movement. It starts from the heart of a tavern located on the port of Amsterdam called "Hannah's Mexico", and what a strange name this is.

The lack of deep thinking about the meaning of life is another form of the routineness of life. Therefore, we return to ask how much suffering there is at that time...? Certainly not much...!

Camus says: "...The feeling of boredom comes when a person feels that life has no purpose and is just a daily routine... and repetitive actions... the same things... and the schedules... and the holidays... and the working days... and the festivals... and many things that happen in the same way... With this, a feeling of hatred for the world that we feel towards with anxiety is born, and the time that leads us without doubling our efforts is our first enemy, and the truth of death reveals to us the futility of life, and reason in its own way tells us that this world is futile.

Albert Camus has breathed deeply through this novel... making each line of it a witness to his philosophy. We mention some examples of it, which can be considered Camusian definitions of some aspects of life.

Judges:
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Wealth:
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Happiness:
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Slavery:
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Wise men:
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Women:
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Death and love:
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Duality:

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    << όταν δεν έχεις χαρακτήρα, θα πρέπει τουλάχιστον να υιοθετήσεις μια μέθοδο >>

    Most of Camus' books are circulated in free PDFs. I bought this one. From the public library at the airport. The books don't speak to you in the summary, they speak to you in the first paragraph. I carried it around, looking for other books. I didn't think not to take it, I didn't think if I would take it. Of course, I took it.

    << You can, however, already judge my satisfaction. I was happy with myself, and we all know that this is exactly happiness, although, to reassure each other, we pretend to condemn such joys, calling them egotism. I was enjoying at least that side of my character that responded so well to the demands of widowhood and orphanhood that, through practice, it came to dominate my whole life... My kindness really brought great joys. If I was lucky enough, some mornings to give up my seat... to pick up an object that had fallen from the ground and give it with a characteristic smile, or to give up my taxi, my day was filled with light... I even felt so much joy in giving that it seemed bad to me when I was forced to do it... The defense of these unfortunates brought me the real recognition. And this encouraged me to make worthy efforts, so that they would pay as little as possible: because whatever they paid, they paid in part... in my place. The anger, the talent, the emotion that I spent, thus disappeared in exchange for every debt I had towards them... Wasn't this the real Paradise? The direct contact with life? This is how I lived >>

    << But do you know why we are always more just and more generous with the dead? The reason is simple! We have no obligation towards them. They leave us free, we can, with our step, show them respect... Not among our friends do we prefer the absent one, who makes us suffer, our emotion, our self-pity in the end... This is how man is, dear sir, two-faced: he cannot love without loving himself... He needs tragedy, what do you want, it is his small excess, his immoderation >>

    I love books that contain thousands of thoughts and images in the fewest pages. Tsvetayeva, Maupassant, Poe, Gonatas and now Camus.

    The kinship with Moran's The Jerk and the whole presence of Papagiannis is visible.

    << If the thugs and the thieves were condemned everywhere and always, the honorable people would all believe that they are always innocent >>.

    The Fall seems like a crumbling cliff without the layers detaching from the base. My lies are crumbling and have been following me for days now, like a distant robe that drags on the ground, like pants that, as the legs get tangled in the shoes, I fumble and feel shame, plasticity and helplessness, as they are dragged into the puddles and bind me. Like a small day at school, when something hurt me and I was ashamed of myself and had to endure all day, the laughter and the liveliness of the children and me walking with this burden on my shoulder, the feeling that was pulling me back and out, the smell that was pushing me into the corners and the deserts.

    Is there an absolute nadir? When the moment of great proof of the values you represent comes and you turn around and you don't understand how you froze and broke down and continued. Basically you run, with your head down and the hypersensitivity activated, while you practice a superhuman friction from one side to the other, constantly nourished. And it becomes so great that it immobilizes you and you understand. Bam. Nothing.

    The problem with Camus is that I can't empathize with him and I reject him and yet I had the same thoughts before him, parallel to him, I have the right to say it, since I didn't know the book, with everything he wrote in The Rebel. In some places, in my diary there were the same phrases, the same conclusions. And now it's the second book where the same thing happens. And this upsets me terribly.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIrbW...

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOvh7...

There is a distinct “before” and an “after” The Fall moment. In this crucial instant, our hero, a highly intelligent and accomplished lawyer, suddenly becomes aware of his vanity and the somewhat artificial nature of his life.

Naturally, in an attempt to escape this harsh reality, he will try to immerse himself in some illusions. He might do this by falling in love or engaging in evil deeds. However, his endeavors will ultimately end in failure in Amsterdam.

This failure leads him to assume the role of a “penitent” judge. He accuses himself of evading the judgment of others, yet at the same time, through reflection, he also blames others.

That is a comprehensive, rich, complex, and deeply disturbing book. It explores themes that are dear to Albert Camus, such as religion, faith, and judgment. These themes are interwoven throughout the narrative, adding depth and nuance to the story. The reader is left to grapple with the profound questions raised by the author, and to consider the implications of the hero's actions and his ultimate fate.