The Stranger
The namesake of my blog is a novel of the same name [actually L'etranger] by the French author Albert Camus. My dear Jessica, who knows me better than I know myself suggested that I name my blog after the book since I remind her almost exactly of the main character Meursault. So, I decided today to read The Stranger for myself.
I honestly couldn't see a resemblance at first. It was odd reading the thought process of a man that was supposedly so identical to myself and I still don't think that on the surface we are much alike. When reading the book I couldn't imagine that I would ever have those exact strains of thoughts, but I relaized in the last couple of chapters that Jessica was right. Meursault and I are generally withdrawn, existential persons who don't have much in the way of feelings. We don't tend to experience love (at least not in the way that most people do) and we are sort of condemned for it.
I wont go into great detail about the plot, but for whomever may read this blog, I highly reccomend reading The Stranger. It's a very short book [only about a hundred or so pages] and well worth it for a peak into the mind of Meursault adn the absurdist world in which he lived. I will however, just include some of my favoritee quotations from the novel.
"...everybody knows life isn't worth living. Deep down I knew perfectly well that it doesnt matter whether you die at thirty or at seventy, since in either case other men and women will naturally go on living -- and for thousands of years. In fact, nothing could be clearer. Whether it was no or twenty years from now, I would still be the one dying."
"Since we're all going to die, it's obvious that when and how don't matter."
"It also occured to me that she might be sick or dead. These things happen. How was I to know, since apart from out bodies, now seperated, there wasn't anyuthing to keep us together or even to remind us of each other? Anyway, after that Marie meant nothing to me. I wasn't interested in her dead. That seemed perfectly normal to me, since I understood very well that people would forget about me when I was dead. They wouldn't have anything more to do with me."
"...it's always interesting to hear people talk about you."
"I would have liked to have tried explaining to him cordially, almost affectionately that I bad never been able to truly feel remorse for anything. My mind was always on what was coming next, today or tomorrow."
I honestly couldn't see a resemblance at first. It was odd reading the thought process of a man that was supposedly so identical to myself and I still don't think that on the surface we are much alike. When reading the book I couldn't imagine that I would ever have those exact strains of thoughts, but I relaized in the last couple of chapters that Jessica was right. Meursault and I are generally withdrawn, existential persons who don't have much in the way of feelings. We don't tend to experience love (at least not in the way that most people do) and we are sort of condemned for it.
I wont go into great detail about the plot, but for whomever may read this blog, I highly reccomend reading The Stranger. It's a very short book [only about a hundred or so pages] and well worth it for a peak into the mind of Meursault adn the absurdist world in which he lived. I will however, just include some of my favoritee quotations from the novel.
"...everybody knows life isn't worth living. Deep down I knew perfectly well that it doesnt matter whether you die at thirty or at seventy, since in either case other men and women will naturally go on living -- and for thousands of years. In fact, nothing could be clearer. Whether it was no or twenty years from now, I would still be the one dying."
"Since we're all going to die, it's obvious that when and how don't matter."
"It also occured to me that she might be sick or dead. These things happen. How was I to know, since apart from out bodies, now seperated, there wasn't anyuthing to keep us together or even to remind us of each other? Anyway, after that Marie meant nothing to me. I wasn't interested in her dead. That seemed perfectly normal to me, since I understood very well that people would forget about me when I was dead. They wouldn't have anything more to do with me."
"...it's always interesting to hear people talk about you."
"I would have liked to have tried explaining to him cordially, almost affectionately that I bad never been able to truly feel remorse for anything. My mind was always on what was coming next, today or tomorrow."
posted by Dani Boi at 9:09 PM
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