Book Review (The Stranger)

This novella (?) is the first thing I have read by Camus in a very long time (more than ten years). This translation (by Matthew Ward) is hailed more as "its own work" than a translation of the original. This fact worried me a bit, but I pressed on like a good trooper.

The novel unfolds as a first person narrative. The protagonist tells us in the first two sentences of the story the sort of detachment he has toward everything he does: "Aujourd'hui, maman est morte. Ou peut-etre hier, je ne sais pas" (Today, mother has died. Or perhaps yesterday, I don't know.).

In the course of the first section of the novella, the protagonist, a Monsieur Meursault, deals with the loss of his estranged mother, including an uncomfortable funeral. During the second portion, beginning the day after returning from the funeral, Meursault encounters a former workmate, begins an affair with her. Eventually, she asks if he would marry her. Despite his obvious indifference to the suggestion itself, he agrees, provided she would like that. Meursault then assists a local scumbag neighbor by writing a letter telling the neighbor's unfaithful lover what she is missing in him, despite not really knowing. After the scumbag (I like this term) beats the woman, Meursault provides witness on the man's behalf, which leads to a mere warning from the police. The neighbor invites Meursault and his fiancee to a friend's house on the lake for the day.

A scuffle with some Arabs, sent on behalf of the woman whom the scumbag thrashed, leads to the scumbag suffering a few semi-serious knife wounds. Meursault then goes for a walk with the scumbag's gun. The walk ends in an encounter with the offending Arab. Several gunshots later, Meursault is in prison for murder.

The final section deals with the ensuing trial, which features a mildly competent lawyer, an indifferent Meursault, and a bible-thumping would-be converter. I won't spoil the ending, but, rest assured, there is no relenting. Camus presses on, following this mindset to its logical conclusion in the face of death.

I was so inspired by the book that I picked up a French version. Surprisingly, I'm able to read the vast majority of it, a tribute to my recent Latin studies moreso than to the two semesters of the French language I had more than five years ago. I strongly recommend the book for many reasons: It's short, it's well-written, it's entertaining, and it's "philosophical" without being preachy, touching without being mawkish.

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