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Cheryl Hamilton is a 2001 graduate of the United States Military Academy in West Point, NY. After 5 years of active duty service as an officer in the United States Army, she returned to her home state of California, and enrolled in the Pre-Health Professional Program at Chapman University. After completing the many class pre-requisites required to apply to Pharmacy School, she is excited to report that she has been accepted to a Doctor of Pharmacy program in Northern California. Until she begins classes in the fall, she will be spending a lot of time traveling and running around a tennis court!

Nobel Prize winner Albert Camus “never embraced the label” of Existentialist, and yet decades later, many literary critics are still lumping him into this category. Since Camus himself did not endorse this claim, it is interesting that more critics have not questioned the legitimacy of this characterization. In reading other critiques of Camus’ The Stranger, it is also hard to ignore the many philosophical and theoretical “–isms” that Camus supposedly sanctioned or explored.

One critic described his work as “literary testimony to the point of view known as romantic egoism or solipsism” (Oxenhandler 43), while yet another said “his efforts [were] to overcome nihilism” (Woolfolk 93). The abundance of philosophical, theoretical, and sometimes, contradictory terminology used to classify Camus and his work has led to the consideration of another, more simpler motive to explain his purpose for writing The Stranger. What if Camus was just trying to voice his opinions on the most controversial ideals of his time? This would explain why he never referred to himself as an Existentialist, but more importantly, it would expand people’s opinions of his literary scope way beyond the subject matter of existentialism, which is the main realm most critics confine him to. Existentialism, the belief that individuals are ultimately responsible for deciding their own paths in life, was definitely a prevalent viewpoint when he wrote The Stranger, but many other revolutionizing theories were evolving during Albert Camus’ short life as well. The most prominent of these evolving theories was Marxism, which led to communism. Thus, careful consideration of the time at which Albert Camus wrote The Stranger privies readers to dimensions of the book that can be easily overlooked by an unknowing reader. This is perhaps why The Stranger is “one of the most commented and misunderstood books of modern times” (Oxenhandler 43). Based on historical evidence and comments on Camus’ personal life from other literary critics, it seems as if Camus was simply trying to voice what he believed to be the four major absurdities that lead to unhappiness and the downfall of individuals and societies: nihilism, religion, marriage, and communism.

To share his thoughts, Camus ingeniously used fictional Meursault as either his protagonist or antagonist to his real-life contemplations about the four practices. “Then I fired four more times at the motionless body where the bullets lodged without leaving a trace. And it was like knocking four quick times on the door of unhappiness” (Camus 59).

Since it is commonly accepted that Camus rejected nihilism (Woolfolk 93), it seems as if he is illustrating the ridiculousness of the practice through Meursualt, and therefore, using him as an antagonist to his personal beliefs about the matter. It is very apparent throughout the entire book that the main character Meursault has a nihilistic attitude, which is primarily expressed in the phrase “it didn’t matter” (Camus 8). It didn’t matter if his Maman died, if he married Marie, or if the jury sentenced him to death because life is meaningless if everyone is eventually “going to die” (Camus 114). Through Meursault, Camus is trying to show how living with a nihilistic attitude not only detracts from an individual’s happiness, but also negatively affects society as a whole. Meursault may say he “wasn’t unhappy” (Camus 41), but the fact that he does not fight for his life during his murder trial illustrates that he is not someone who is genuinely happy. In terms of his nihilism negatively affecting society, Meursault is shown torturing Marie emotionally and killing a perfect stranger because “the whole beach, throbbing in the sun, was pressing on [his] back . . . it was this burning, which [he] couldn’t stand anymore, that made [him] move forward” toward the Arab and fire one and then four more bullets into his body (Camus 59).

In light of his nihilistic nature, many have naturally questioned Meursault’s will to live, but not everyone has reached the same conclusion, although it is rather clear that he did not want to live. Camus addresses this question by depicting Meursault as someone who repeatedly takes his life, other people, and the many enjoyments of life other than sex for granted, and his explanation is always the same. “Everybody knows life isn’t worth living. Deep down I knew perfectly well that it doesn’t matter whether you die at thirty or seventy, since in either case other men and women will naturally go on living” (Camus 114). The last couple of lines of the book especially illuminate his mindset. “I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again. For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate” (Camus 122). Meursault is stating that he is happy about meeting his destiny of death because once he dies, all of the personal attacks on him by the prosecutor, examining magistrate, prison chaplain, and society as a whole will cease. “I was surprised by how relentless he was” (Camus 100). In addition, if Meursault wanted to live, then why would he ask himself “how [he] had not seen that there was nothing more important than an execution, and that when you come right down to it, it was the only thing a man could be truly interested in” (Camus 110)?

In sparking a debate between whether or not Meursault wanted to live, Camus could have congratulated himself on his successful creation of an antagonist. Meursault’s unwillingness to live was intended to be unfathomable, and to go against the grain of the majority’s instinct to assume that he wanted to live. What better way is there to illustrate the absurdity of nihilism?

In regards to religion, Camus like his character Meursault, was not an atheist, but he was not religious either. Thus, Meursault proves to be Camus’ ally with respect to religious practices. Camus incorporates God into two major scenes. One scene is between Meursault and an examining magistrate, and the other scene is between Meursault and a prison chaplain. In the former, there are two particular dialogues that illustrate Camus’ religious beliefs. When the magistrate says that it is his “conviction that no man was so guilty that God would not forgive him, but in order for that to happen a man must repent and in so doing become like a child whose heart is open and ready to embrace all,” Meursault’s only response is that he “found it very hard to follow his reasoning” (Camus 68). The examining magistrate subsequently becomes angered and frustrated with Meursault when Meursault replies that he does not believe in God. “Do you want my life to be meaningless?” the magistrate shouts. “How can you not believe that He suffered for you? I have never seen a soul as hardened as yours. The criminals who have come before me have always wept at the sight of this image of suffering” the magistrate continues (Camus 69). To this line of questioning, Meursault simply says “that [is your] belief” (Camus 69).

In the scene between Meursault and the prison chaplain, Meursault states that he “had only a little time left and [he] didn’t want to waste it on God” (Camus 120). Then the chaplain asks him “have you no hope at all? And do you really live with the thought that when you die, you die, and nothing remains?” To this, Meursault replies with a quick yes. Thus, to say that Camus was not a religious man is an understatement, and Meursault is, therefore, his protagonist on the issue of religion.

Camus was married twice and both marriages were riddled and ruined by many infidelities. Obviously, Meursault shares Camus’ view on marriage because when Marie asks Meursault if he wants to marry her, his reply is that “it didn’t make any difference to [him], and that [they] could if she wanted to” (Camus 41). His blasé attitude about marriage is pitted against the characters of Marie, Thomas Perez, and Salamano, who are used to represent the different stages of a marriage as well as commitment, companionship, and loyalty. It is clear that Meursault does not believe in monogamous relationships as evidenced by the fact that after Meursault and Marie “walk through the main streets to the other end of town,” Meursault comments that “the women were beautiful” and asks Marie “if she’d notice” (Camus 42). This fact also becomes glaringly obvious when Meursault states in his prison cell that he is “tormented by [his] desire for a woman. I never thought specifically of Marie. But I thought so much about a woman, about women, about all the ones I had known” (Camus 77).

Camus was initially a pacifist at the beginning of World War II, but in 1935 he joined the Algerian Communist Party (Fischer 128) from which he was expelled two years later. In 1938, he “noted in his journal that the ‘reign of the beasts’ [had] begun” (Fischer 128), and thus, Meursault serves as Camus’ antagonist once again. Although his views on communism are less distinct in The Stranger, most likely as a result of his residence in occupied France during World War II, they are still present in regards to the topics of laziness and a lack of ambition. When Meursault’s boss asks him if he would be interested in going to a new office in Paris where he could have a change in life, Meursault replies “that people never change their lives, that in any case one life was as good as another and that [he] wasn’t dissatisfied with [his life there] at all” (Camus 41). To this comment, Meursault’s boss disappointedly and somewhat angrily tells Meursault that he has no ambition, which was disastrous in business. Meursault then goes on to say that he just “couldn’t see any reason to change [his] life.” This dialogue between the two characters hits at the heart of the problem with communism. What good is an individual’s ambition in a communist society if the outcome or reward is going to be the same for everyone regardless of how much work or effort was actually contributed by the individual?

Additionally, I believe Camus is likening Meursault to a younger Adolf Hitler in Meursault’s lack of remorse and in his belief that he is not a criminal. “They were criminals. But then I realized that I was one too. It was an idea I couldn’t get used to” (Camus 70). When the magistrate asks him if he was sorry for killing the Arab, Meursault “[thinks] about it for a minute and [then says] that more than sorry [he] felt kind of annoyed” (Camus 70). Later, while the prosecutor is making his final remarks, Meursault confirms that he “didn’t feel much remorse for what [he’d] done. I had never been able to truly feel remorse for anything” (Camus 100).

In the end, Meursault is not beheaded for the murder of the Arab as much as he is being killed because he has been deemed too dangerous for society. This being so, René Girard’s comment that “Camus disapproves the sentence which condemns his hero” seems completely false (Girard 519). Society feared that Meursault’s callous, nihilistic nature would spread and wanted to ensure that he would never transform into the next Adolf Hitler, a murderer of thousands who felt no remorse. The prosecutor’s closing remarks says it all.

“We cannot complain that he lacks what it was not in his power to acquire. But here in this court the wholly negative virtue of tolerance must give way to the sterner but loftier virtue of justice. Especially when the emptiness of a man’s heart becomes, as we find it has in this man, an abyss threatening to swallow up society” (Camus 101).

In killing his main character, Camus is telling society that tolerance is not acceptable. Justice must be upheld because it prevents the rising of individuals and practices like Hitler and communism. As a result of the mass genocide that was occurring, the sentiment of justice over tolerance must have been prevalent amongst those of the WWII era.

This opinion that Camus was trying to voice his thoughts about nihilism, religion, marriage, and communism may come out of left field for many people as most individuals who read The Stranger simply understand it to be about a passionless, psychologically disturbed man who kills a man as a result of the scorching sun, and then is on trial for murder. This is because Camus convolutes the theme of absurdity by distracting the reader with seemingly odd behavior or statements by Meursault. Meursault moved “the dining room table into [his] bedroom [to] live in just one room” after his Maman moved out because he felt the apartment was too big for him (Camus 21). One of the two oddest statements, however, was when Meursault says “I often thought that if I had had to live in the trunk of a dead tree, with nothing to do but look up at the sky flowering overhead, little by little I would have gotten used to it” (Camus 77). The other extremely bizarre statement he said was that “ a man who had lived only one day could easily live for a hundred years in prison. He would have enough memories to keep him from being bored. In a way, it was an advantage” (Camus 79).

Camus even goes as far as frustrating readers with his extreme lack of emotion at his mother’s funeral, in his relationship with Marie, at his murder trial, and in the hours leading up to his beheading. At his mother’s vigil, he “felt like having a smoke. But [he] hesitated, because [he] didn’t know if [he] could do it with Maman right there. [He] thought about it; it didn’t matter” (Camus 8). Thus, he proceeded to light a cigarette. When Marie asks him if he loves her, his reply is that “it didn’t mean anything, but that [he] didn’t think so” (Camus 35). Prior to killing the Arab, he states that “as far as I was concerned, the whole thing was over, and that [he had returned to the beach] without even thinking about it,” yet he doesn’t claim this at his trial in an attempt to save his life (Camus 58). Instead of defending himself, his attitude is that everyone must die, so why not now? “What would disturb [me] was the terrifying leap I would feel my heart take at the idea of having twenty more years of life ahead of me” (Camus 114).

With such convolution, The Stranger could easily be compared to a stereogram, a three-dimensional image hidden within another picture. This is because The Stranger is both frustrating and hard to comprehend for the majority of the book, just as Julio Cortázar’s Blow Up or James Purdy’s Daddy Wolf were, but then, in an instant, everything seems to click and come into focus just as a stereogram does. However, this only happens with effort. Until you look past the absurdity like you look past the initial image presented in a stereogram, the beauty of Camus’ The Stranger will evade most readers. Thus, with all of this skillful scheming by Camus hidden within the lackluster tone and eerily blunt words of Meursault, it is easy to see why people may overlook his attempt to dismiss nihilism, religion, marriage, and communism; but of course, not everyone has fallen prey to Camus’ schemes.

In Stephen Bronner’s book, Camus: Portrait of a Moralist, Bronner states that Camus definitely had a much bigger agenda than philosophizing about existentialism and nihilism. “Bronner says very little about the existentialist movement . . . [and he] sees The Stranger not as a nihilistic work, but as [something] which educates by transcending nihilism” (Weberman 621). Thus, the four claims alluding to the fact that The Stranger encompasses so much more than existentialism coincide with Bronner’s statement. However, what Bronner believed to be on Camus’ agenda is narrower in scope though equal in breadth to the four absurdities presented here. In the end, after learning that Camus had taken strong stances on nihilism, religion, marriage, and communism, it is hard to deny that all of his personal beliefs about these practices are both heavily and obscurely voiced in The Stranger: four bullets, four hidden itineraries, and zero existentialism.

• 2009 Spring
• Literary Interpretation