“Mama died today. Or maybe yesterday; I can't be sure.” --Meursault
I mainly read this illustrated version of Camus’s classic text because I saw it on the new Graphic Novels shelf yesterday, but I have always said it was one of the best books I ever read. Not that I have ever “loved” it as one loves family and the great outdoors. I read much of the works of Camus in my youth in the sixties, as I did the work of other existentialist authors, post-WWII works that questioned the meaning of existence in the face of millions of lives lost in that war. With that background, Camus once said that the only significant philosophical question was suicide. In Camus’s The Myth of Sisyphus, too, he questions the nature of striving for meaning, which seems to him inherent in mankind.
The Stranger portrays an enigmatic man who, days after his mother’s funeral, begins a relationship with a woman, Marie, but soon after commits a senseless crime. The focus of the action of half of the book is Meursault’s calmly, and seemingly indifferently, sitting through his trial only to hear himself condemned to death. His last human interaction is with a priest who tries to “save” his soul, about which the atheist Meursault says, “I had only a little time left and I didn't want to waste it on God.”
Facing death, having confronted the priest angrily, he considers:
“It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe.
To feel it so like myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that I'd been happy, and that I was happy still. For all to be accomplished, for me to feel less lonely, all that remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration.”
I haven’t read The Stranger for decades. I am not exactly sure how I think of it now based on this illustrated version, (though I can say the artwork is well done, and the excerpts Ferrandez chose seem to me apt for the purpose of getting at the heart of the book). I’m not an atheist; I think I might best be described as an agnostic who tries to live an ethical existence in the search for meaning. I don't feel a kinship with Meursault. But this reading has encouraged me to re-read the entire trilogy—The Stranger, The Plague, and The Fall. As I recall, while The Stranger is compelling, The Plague is the best of his work, moving and inspiring. We’ll see.