Book Review: The Stranger by Albert Camus
I first picked up The Stranger by Albert Camus, intrigued by its reputation as a philosophical cornerstone of modern literature. The opening lines hit me like a punch: “Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday; I can’t be sure.” Already, you sense the detachment of the protagonist, Meursault, and I was drawn in, eager to explore the depths of a narrative that knits absurdity with existential inquiry.
At its core, The Stranger delves into themes of alienation and the absurdity of life. Meursault, with his detached perspective, navigates a world that seems to function on a logic far removed from the emotional fabric of human experiences. His reaction to his mother’s death is not one of grief but rather a logistical inconvenience—a stark commentary on modern existence. This cold bureaucratic telegram announcing her passing encapsulates the chilling distances we often maintain, even in matters of life and death. It’s as if Camus is inviting us to question how much of our humanity we trade for convenience in a mechanized society.
The pacing of the narrative is notably deliberate, drawing readers into the mundane rituals of Meursault’s life. Camus’ prose is imbued with an acute sense of sensory detail—whether it’s the oppressive heat of the sun during a funeral or the sensation of water at the local pool. This emphasis on physical sensation rather than emotion mirrors Meursault’s characterization. In that moment of existential crisis on the beach, when he confronts the Arab, the prose crescendos with tension, turning visceral. “I felt as if a long, thin blade transfixed my forehead,” highlights the rawness that permeates both his physical and emotional being, leading to that pivotal and shocking moment of violence.
One of my favorite scenes highlights the absurdity of societal norms: Meursault’s decision to go to the movies just after his mother’s funeral. This, to society, seems inexcusable, but to him, it’s just a continuation of life—an echo of our often disassociated existence. It is striking how Camus deftly portrays the expectations of the world around him, urging readers to reflect on their own conformity and the often arbitrary conventions they uphold.
In the courtroom scene, Meursault feels out of place among those who casually greet one another, reinforcing his status as a stranger even amidst the thrumming social landscape. It made me reflect on how often we can feel like outsiders in our own lives, surrounded by people yet disconnected.
Camus’ The Stranger is not just a novel but a reflection on the human condition. It challenges you to ponder what it means to be alive in an indifferent universe. I recommend it for those who are curious about existentialism or anyone who finds themselves wrestling with the complexities of belonging and identity. It’s a book to revisit, as each read unveils new layers of insight.
Ultimately, reading The Stranger was a profound experience for me. It left me with lingering questions about my own existence and the often absurd situations we encounter. In the end, Camus doesn’t just present a story; he offers a mirror—one that reflects our own strangeness back at us, inviting us to confront our truths.