Thursday, July 19

'Strange' Days

Hello ladies. If you made it through The Stranger, I would like to thank you. I know it was very different from the last book we read, and I for one had expectations that were not met.

I chose this book because I'd heard about it through one of my favorite radio shows on NPR, the Diane Rehm show. The discussion on the show, lead by the highly respected host, piqued my curiosity. Though I do not regret taking the time to read it, I wish I could say I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The main player, Meursault, was hard -- if not impossible -- to warm up to. He didn't seem to have the "normal" human emotions that I -- as a woman -- like to recognize in others. I was reminded of those old movies from the '40s, where the men drink martinis and the women wear hourglass outfits and say the exact right thing all the time. So prescribed and robotic -- everyone filling his to role to a T and showing no great emotion.

Contributing to this robotic life-view was the fact that Meursault was friends with that girlfriend-beater. This friendship, coupled with the fact that he actually wrote that letter for him, just stunned me. Why would he be friends with such a man? Was he supposed to be this all-accepting, nonjudmental, emotionless sort of superhuman?

On the other hand, I found myself feeling sorry for our hero, especially when he was in the courtroom. All the spectators looked at him like he was a monster, when he merely viewed life differently from them. I relate him to an autistic person, who just hasn't the capacity to express feelings in the same manner the "rest of us" do.

The climactic scene at the end was almost a relief, as it brought this rush of feeling and sheer humanity to the book. I guess the author meant us to feel the difference. Like water tastes better when we are thirsty.

After finishing the book, I listened again to the radio show, which reminded me this was an second-generation existentialist book. According to a guest on the show, existentialism has three major questions:

1. Can we trust reason?
2. What are we responsible for, if anything, as humans?
3. Is there a meaning that transcends history?

For someone who seeks meaning in everything, I found it hard to attach meaning to practically anything in this book because the storytelling was disjointed and dry. I think this prevented me from connecting it to anything real. If that is the point of the book, then it worked on me.

This book did not lead me to study existentialism to any great degree. One thought on religion/faith, though. The priest came all the time to talk with him in his cell. Meursault refused to see him. I have to say I see some sort of valour or honor in Meursault's sticking with his own beliefs (or lack thereof). As I read once somewhere: Faith is a process, not an event. Had Meursault converted "on his death bed," so to speak, it might take some of the "meaning" out of the act. (I've always wondered if people who give their lives to God on their death beds are just acting on fear rather than a conscious decision. I see faith as something that helps me through this life, not the next.)

2 comments:

D said...

I felt sorry for the hero too. I felt sorry for him that he couldn't find purpose or meaning in this life. I felt sorry for him that he didn't think that anything mattered and couldn't understand why he was being seen as a monster.

It was interesting to me that the only thing in his life that he stuck up for was the fact that nothing mattered. That was the only thing that mattered enough to him to bring out emotion in him (with the priest). I agree that it is good that the priest didn't "convert" him though I wouldn't have minded if killing a man had sunk in a little more.

Katie said...

robotic is a good word to describe the book. "I ate. I slept. I had coffee. My mother died." I am also glad that Mersault stuck to his guns and didn't all of a sudden change his mind at the end - made the craziness more believable.