My first encounter with Camus and with the stranger that had been hiding inadvertently within me during all these years left me quite perplexed.

Is the title of Camus’s novel that obvious? Who is truly “The Stranger” here? The disenchanted narrator of a story with no real plotline and no definite answers? The faceless mass of people who loathe and condemn him according to arbitrary morality? The alien countenance that stares back at me in the mirror on a muddled succession of monotonous Mondays? Aren’t we all strangers in this confusing world where time is an agreed convention that really doesn’t exist?

“It occurred to me that somehow I’d got through another Sunday, that Mother now was buried, and tomorrow I’d be going back to work as usual. Really, nothing in my life had changed.” (p.18)

I could never get to the bottom of Mr. Meursault’s psyche. An indolent bon vivant who didn’t cry at his Mother’s funeral or who was incapable of repentance after having killed an Arab at the shores of an Algerian beach because his presence annoyed him and because it was scorchingly hot.

Incarcerated and deprived of his liberty, Mr. Meursault’s apathy gradually transforms into a wish to cling to life amidst the congenial indifference of the universe surrounding him. He learns to find contentment “gazing up at the patch of sky just overhead” or “watching for the passing birds or drifting clouds” or “waiting for dusk to come as a mournful solace”. The little window of Meursault’s cell and his accumulated memories grow to be his only means to mental freedom while the concept of time dissolves and becomes senseless and indivisible.

Whether he lives or dies is indifferent to him and he accepts his “being” only in the present undisturbed by past or future. An opaque reflection of an aseptic man defined by a sequence of actions is all the reader gets, for Meursault becomes an impenetrable character with no other principle than to accept the organized chaos of existence and his own nothingness.

One won’t find answers in this moralistic novel, only an orchestra of painstakingly chosen words that compose a concise and compressed prose, which in turn describes detailed scenes and casts many obscure shadows. Words are hollow and don’t carry essence. It is in the silences between the haltering sentences or in the passages with sporadic lyricism when the void of Meursault’s existence can be “heard” rather than understood.

If both the main character and the prose remain elusive, what can be inferred then from mere acts? A condemned man whose biggest crime is refusing to behave accordingly to political correctness and to human nature, if something as such exists. He showed no feeling when his Mother passed away! Guilty. “An inhuman monster wholly without a moral sense”. Guilty. “A criminal at heart”. Guilty. “A menace to society”. Guilty. Meanwhile the remorseless assassin reads a scrap of newspaper that contains the story of a prodigal son murdered by his own Mother. The irony of it all.

Enlightened atheist? Pacifist revolutionary? This novel breathes out all the false contradictions that are in fact a reflection of an extreme coherence amidst the absurdity of existence. The term “Absurdity” is much more than a word but a bit less than a concept. It is the unequivocal rupture between mankind’s obsession to find meaning in the mute response of the universe. “Absurdity” might be unacceptable as an abstract idea or a doctrine, but when it is experienced rather than studied, one can learn to accept it in quiet rebellion, like Meursault did. I can’t claim I understood his actions but the outsider in me did. Similarly, I can’t corroborate Camus being a philosopher, but I admire this spontaneous freethinker who jumped into the abyss of reality with nothing else than his ruffian hunger for living and the gutsy insolence of not accepting a thoughtless existence.

In the absurd then, I learn to live.

Albert Camus' The Stranger is a remarkable short work that holds a profound impact. The story begins with our protagonist, Meursault, who shocks readers by showing no apparent grief over his mother's death in the opening chapter. This indifference immediately sets him apart from the norms of society, leading to a series of questions. Is this lack of emotion truly what defines him, or is there something more complex lurking beneath the surface? Could it be that this portrayal of Meursault's indifference is actually a reflection of the reader's own feelings of alienation and the presumed difficulty in connecting with societal expectations? The situation takes a more extreme turn when Meursault, almost nonchalantly, kills an Arab on the beach. At this point, the question arises: does he now become a monster, or was this always his true nature? These are just some of the many thought-provoking questions that came to my mind when I read The Stranger for the second time.

“I looked up at the mass of signs and stars in the night sky and laid myself open for the first time to the benign indifference of the world.”

This powerful quote from the novel encapsulates the essence of Meursault's experience and perhaps even our own. The image of looking up at the night sky and feeling the world's indifference is both haunting and liberating. It makes us question our place in the universe and the significance of our actions. Camus' writing forces us to confront these uncomfortable truths and consider the nature of human existence. The Stranger is not just a story; it is a philosophical exploration that challenges our beliefs and makes us think deeply about the world around us.

Throughout the events of the novel, the character of the protagonist intrigued me. His coldness, his almost non-existent reactions, his silence, and his excessive thinking about everything. For God's sake, with all that turmoil, shouldn't something stir him? Open your eyes, man! Your mother has died and you feel nothing. You killed a man with five bullets perhaps because of the heat! And you will be hanged in a public square and you don't move a muscle? I wished I could see this protagonist in front of me to slap him six or seven times on his face!

Far from the excitement that the author managed to arouse in me, Albert Camus is a great writer, truly, without any exaggeration. That nothingness and that everything is fleeting and will fade away. Those dark thoughts that perhaps submerged me on one of the days or weeks. Those thoughts that drive sleep away from your eyes. You will find them here in this small-sized but significant novel. In everything that our protagonist Meursault experiences, you feel as if it is being carved on your face and he tells you simply: What's the difference? What happened happened and I don't care.

Of course, as long as the novel "The Stranger" is mentioned, the trial scene cannot be mentioned without it. A scene where, despite Meursault's usual few words, it reveals a lot about his character, about his life, about why he wasn't affected by his mother's death, about how that nothingness is what weighs him down and weighs us down. That meaningless life that revolves and wastes around the same points, places, and people. That cold, dark, harsh life that will be easy for it to leave you empty. Meursault tells you simply not to care about it because all that is going to pass away. Even I, you, you all, and everyone.

A strange novel of nothingness but it suits me perfectly. And it is recommended for those who want a dose of nothingness.

Yesterday and tomorrow were the only words that held any meaning for me.

Today, it seemed, was just a blank slate, a void that I couldn't quite fill.

"For today is over, Mr. Antichrist," I muttered to myself, as if addressing some unseen entity.

The days blended together in a hazy blur, and I found myself lost in a sea of monotony.

But still, those two words, yesterday and tomorrow, lingered in my mind, taunting me with their promise of something more.

Perhaps it was the hope that tomorrow would bring a change, a new beginning.

Or maybe it was the nostalgia for yesterday, for the memories that I held dear.

Either way, I knew that I couldn't escape the cycle.

Today would always come, and with it, the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

But I would face it, one day at a time, and hope that somehow, things would get better.

The Stranger is a remarkable novel that presents a complex and thought-provoking character in Meursault. Bill's description of it being "very easy to read, but very hard to'read well'" holds true. At first glance, Meursault's actions and attitudes may seem repugnant, such as his indifference towards his mother's death and his lackadaisical approach to marriage. However, upon further reflection, one begins to understand his unique philosophy.

Meursault believes that human life is part of a natural process without transcendent meaning. He refuses to conform to society's illusions and expectations, which ultimately leads to his condemnation. But as the story progresses, we see glimpses of his true self, and we realize that he is not as heartless as he initially appears.

The most interesting aspect of the novel is the way it makes the reader question their own beliefs and values. We are forced to confront the absurdity of life and the inevitability of death. And while some may hate Meursault and think the book is overrated, others may find themselves correlating with him and seeing the world in a new light.

In conclusion, The Stranger is a must-read for anyone interested in exploring the themes of existentialism and absurdity. It may not be an easy read, but it is certainly a rewarding one.

"It's called The Stranger. Bill said that it's'very easy to read, but very hard to \\"read well\\".' I have no idea what he means, but I like the book so far." ("The Perks of Being a Wallflower", Stephen Chbosky)


"\\n  They had before them the basest of crimes, a crime made worse than sordid by the fact that they were dealing with a monster, a man without morals.”\\n

A man wanders in a dream, sleepwalking through life. He often thinks and says that life is an illusion not worth living. To him, nothing is real, and feelings hold no importance. What does anything matter anyway? We all end up the same way, and for what? Just a few moments of happiness that are transitory by nature, like a small gift. The harsh world always wins, and the silly beings know this but pretend otherwise.

Set in French colonial Algeria apparently during the 1930s, before reality shows its ugly head in World War II, our man is Meursault. He has no other moniker or anything else but this one. He earns the title alias, "The Stranger," in this book since the author provides scant background information about the main character. An ordinary person lacking any ambition, his stone-face never changes. When his mother dies, his dry eyes puzzle those around him during the funeral. People also saw him fall asleep during the overnight vigil, smoke a cigarette afterwards, and even drink coffee, not even knowing his parent's age.

Amid the exotic location in North Africa, where the French and Arabs try to remain civil but tension lurks beneath the surface, the two tribes are too different for calm to prevail, as history soon reveals. Later, this will cause much trouble. A reputation follows the seemingly heartless human with no sense of decency. Marie, his pretty girlfriend, remains loyal for a while after a tragedy occurs that changes his dull existence. The few friends, Raymond, Celeste, Salamano, Thomas, etc., support Meursault in scandal. The title explains that the man is too honest for his own good because he never lies, a weird habit in anybody today. It is a splendid novel, and it is understandable why the unusual man both fascinates and repulses the reader and always will. Albert Camus, a native of this former colony, knew too well the consequences. The lack of understanding of customs, religion, and languages separates people. Regrettably, the writer left us too early. Imagine the books that will remain unwritten that we will miss.

"عبقرية..عجبتني جداً.." can be translated to "Oracle.. I liked it very much..".

Oracle is a widely known and highly regarded company in the field of technology.

It offers a diverse range of products and services, including database management systems, cloud computing solutions, and enterprise software.

The company has a long history of innovation and has been at the forefront of many technological advancements.

Its database systems are used by organizations around the world to store and manage their critical data.

In addition, Oracle's cloud computing services provide businesses with flexible and scalable options for their IT infrastructure.

Overall, Oracle is a company that has made a significant impact on the technology industry, and it's no wonder that it has received such high praise from so many people.

I, too, have been impressed by Oracle's offerings and look forward to seeing what the company will achieve in the future.

I was extremely excited about this book when I devoured it a few weeks ago. However, in the long period of time between then and when I first sat down to start this review (compared to this most recent attempt - I think at least my fourth?), I realized that I had forgotten many of the specific reasons why it had appealed to me so much.

Fortunately, since Goodreads has made me feel the need to take notes on, heavily underline passages from, and analyze every book I read these days, a quick return to my thoroughly marked-up copy of this novel got me right back into the mindset of being unexpectedly captivated by a deceptively uninterested narrator. This is a work that had a profound impact on me from the very first sentence, in ways that were slightly disturbing but mostly welcome.

I am not a very literal person. I love hyperboles, understatements, and metaphors because they allow for flexibility in interpretation. They let people impose their own inner worlds on the seemingly uniform external world, just as they leave room for individual interpretations of the message, intent, subtext, and so on. People do not perceive and interact with the world in the same way, so why should they be expected to hear the same things, pick up on the same cues, and follow the same thought processes? To me, that's how you get to the essence of a person and their inner workings: Let them show you how they operate by giving them enough variables to arrange in a comprehensible order as they see fit.

Of course, forcing the observer to do some creative thinking on the spot (or trusting them to observe at all, in some cases) is more likely to backfire than simply saying what's on your mind to eliminate all doubt, but that's how you can identify the intellectually challenged. Or, you know, end up with a death sentence. Like life, it's all a gamble and not always worth the risk.

Strange as it may seem (though perhaps not surprising, given the nature of my reviews), I found a certain connection with Meursault. True, there isn't much to the guy when you look at him from the outside (that is, outside his mind), but when I let myself explore the vast implications of what he says and the unfathomable depth of what drives him to act as he does, I started to recognize many of my own logical leaps and inexplicable reactions.

To me, Meursault is just a person who doesn't process the world in the same ordinary way as others. He's an open book, an adaptable being, and brutally honest, a man who doesn't conform to social norms - not because it's cool to be that way but because he truly seems to approach events and impulses with a sense of genuine stoic reserve. How many people haven't cried at a loved one's funeral, only to break down emotionally days, weeks, or months later after some ordinary event makes the finality of the loss hit home? Or have taken on an unpleasant task to relieve a friend from its burden? Or shrugged their shoulders in the face of an ugly truth because nothing can change the course of fate once it reaches its unstoppable momentum? What's the point of getting emotional when it won't change anything at all?

Meursault knows he is powerless to change things. He knows he has no right to make assumptions about other people and their behaviors based solely on his own. What's so wrong with that? Fighting death is a hopeless cause, so why bother wasting the effort? Similarly, he knows that crying over his mother's death won't bring her back. Besides, what we know about their relationship is only what Meursault reveals, whether explicitly or not, so who are we to judge him as strange for not reacting as melodramatically as we would? Isn't it extremely presumptuous to impose our sense of "normal" on a stranger? But by the time he shares his belief that no one has the right to cry over his Maman when being so close to death gave her a peace that doesn't exist in the prime of life, Meursault's own minimal significance in the world is coming to an end. We're not supposed to understand him completely, but we can surely appreciate where he's coming from with just enough effort to realize that the example made of him misses the point by a shockingly wide margin.

This book touched on many things that irritate me about society, mainly the tendency to hold onto misconceptions when faced with an individual or situation that can't be neatly classified as a "type" or doesn't fit into a rigidly predefined black-and-white category. Why is it so difficult for the vast majority of people to extend the courtesy and minimal effort of critical thinking to appreciate and learn from a deviation from the norm? I appreciated the opportunity to judge what I can't stand in a cathartic, safely detached way. It allowed me to focus on feeling truly sorry for Meursault. I mean, come on - someone had to, right? He's the victim of the dangers of one-sided thinking in a world filled with every color, whether common or not.

(An alternative reading is that Meursault is an emotionally stunted mama's boy who can't cope with life without his mother, throws himself at a woman he hardly knows, and then gets himself legally killed so he doesn't have to do it himself, but that's just... no, I'm not even going to consider that one.)

If You Exist

"The Stranger" vividly dramatises the profound issues that lie at the very heart of existentialism. These same issues likely also reside at the core of life, regardless of one's belief in a god or not.

Being Judged

It is fascinating to note that a crime has occurred and now Meursault is facing "judgment". This judgment is not merely symbolic of the justice system but also serves as a powerful metaphor for God's judgment of humanity.

Defending Yourself

In the criminal justice system, one would typically expect the defendant to assert their innocence or plead not guilty. Both of these options demand that the defendant take a positive action, albeit to different degrees. Asserting "innocence" is a straightforward proclamation of "I didn't do it". A plea of "not guilty", on the other hand, places the burden on the prosecutor to prove the defendant's guilt. However, it's important to note that there are significant differences between the French justice system and those of the UK, USA, Canada, Australia, and others.

Pleading not guilty can have several implications. It could mean that "I did actually do it", but the prosecutor must prove to the judge or court that I did it. It could also mean that "I did actually do it", but I have a valid defence or justification that exempts me from punishment, such as self-defence or provocation.

Asking Forgiveness

This process bears some resemblance to the situation when a Christian passes away and encounters their God. If they have sinned, one would expect them to seek forgiveness. Having been forgiven, they would anticipate ascending to Heaven.

Not Defending Yourself

One of the dilemmas presented in "The Stranger" is that, both morally and legally, there are potential issues that Meursault could have raised with the judge to excuse his actions and secure a not-guilty verdict. He could have argued self-defence or provocation, and potentially "got off" if he had taken a positive step on his own behalf. However, he fails to do so.

If he were a Christian, perhaps he would have desired to prolong his life on Earth. His life would have held some meaning for him, and he would have craved more of it. Similarly, if he were a Christian, he would have been motivated to strive for eternal life in Heaven. In either case, he would have taken the positive step.

What's the Point?

Instead, contrary to all expectations, he chooses not to defend himself. We are left to ponder the reasons why. We must assume that Meursault effectively posed the questions to himself: "What is the point? Why should I bother?" And we must assume that he arrived at the conclusion: "There is no point."

Achieving Your Own Mortality

There was no purpose in prolonging his life, and since he did not believe in Heaven, there was no incentive to seek eternal life. He had lived his life, regardless of its length, quality, or level of satisfaction, and it didn't truly matter that his life might soon come to an end. The reality is that, sooner or later, all life must reach its conclusion.

By failing to take a "positive" step on his own behalf, he effectively collaborated in and achieved his own mortality. He existed while he was alive, and he would cease to exist upon his execution. Even if he wasn't executed, death would have inevitably come to him sooner or later.

Ultimately, he "enjoyed" his life while he had it, he didn't care enough to extend it, and he accepted the inevitability of his own death.

Is Despair the Explanation?

This does not necessarily imply that he embraced despair as a way of life (or death). In a sense, he accepted responsibility for his own actions during life and also accepted responsibility for the inevitability of his own death. Ultimately, this is why "The Stranger" and Existentialism are so challenging to Christianity and Western Civilisation. They force us to ask the question "what is the point?" and allow for the possibility of an answer that "there is no point".

Responsibility

This does not mean that life is devoid of meaning and that everyone else should live in despair. Quite the contrary. We should infuse our own meaning into our lives. We are responsible for our own fulfilment. Life is fleeting, and we should simply get on with it. (Or, as a friend of mine likes to say, everyone is responsible for their own orgasm.) Such is life.

I can clearly understand why an abundance of people have a deep affection for this book. It presents profound philosophical questions, delves into the realm of existentialism, and even gives a nod to atheism, among other aspects.

However, in my perspective, the author seems to convey a sense of depression more strongly than anything else. It's truly fascinating how our individual perceptions shape our opinions regarding books. This holds true even when we are aware that our own feelings towards the book might not align with the author's original intentions.

The conclusion of the book was more on the side of sadness rather than anything else. Nevertheless, I can also fathom why it could potentially be breathtakingly liberating for certain individuals. It just goes to show how differently people can interpret and experience the same literary work based on their own unique perspectives and emotional states.

The novel kicks off with the words:

"Mother died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don't know."

This laconic style establishes an unvarying counterpoint to the poetic and at times ornamented artistic language.

Albert Camus, who is regarded as one of the most significant literary and philosophical thinkers of the post-war era, was the Nobel Prize laureate in 1957. His works also delved into political questions.

The novel is an absurd piece, right up to the last sentence. It presents the situation of a man whose life has already reached a standstill. At the moment of anticipated death, he recalls a life that is not stunted, a life that for many represents the conscience of France.

Undoubtedly, it is an absolute classic of world literature!

It continues to captivate readers with its unique style and profound themes, inviting them to reflect on the meaning and absurdity of life.

Camus' masterful storytelling and philosophical insights make this novel a must-read for anyone interested in literature and the human condition.

Even decades after its publication, it remains relevant and thought-provoking, leaving a lasting impact on the literary world.