Works, such as the novels The Stranger (1942) and The Plague (1947), of Algerian-born French writer and philosopher Albert Camus concern the absurdity of the human condition; he won the Nobel Prize of 1957 for literature.
Origin and his experiences of this representative of non-metropolitan literature in the 1930s dominated influences in his thought and work.
Of semi-proletarian parents, early attached to intellectual circles of strongly revolutionary tendencies, with a deep interest, he came at the age of 25 years in 1938; only chance prevented him from pursuing a university career in that field. The man and the times met: Camus joined the resistance movement during the occupation and after the liberation served as a columnist for the newspaper Combat.
The essay Le Mythe de Sisyphe (The Myth of Sisyphus), 1942, expounds notion of acceptance of the absurd of Camus with "the total absence of hope, which has nothing to do with despair, a continual refusal, which must not be confused with renouncement - and a conscious dissatisfaction." Meursault, central character of L'Étranger (The Stranger), 1942, illustrates much of this essay: man as the nauseated victim of the absurd orthodoxy of habit, later - when the young killer faces execution - tempted by despair, hope, and salvation.
Besides his fiction and essays, Camus very actively produced plays in the theater (e.g., Caligula, 1944).
The time demanded his response, chiefly in his activities, but in 1947, Camus retired from political journalism.
Doctor Rieux of La Peste (The Plague), 1947, who tirelessly attends the plague-stricken citizens of Oran, enacts the revolt against a world of the absurd and of injustice, and confirms words: "We refuse to despair of mankind. Without having the unreasonable ambition to save men, we still want to serve them."
People also well know La Chute (The Fall), work of Camus in 1956.
Camus authored L'Exil et le royaume (Exile and the Kingdom) in 1957. His austere search for moral order found its aesthetic correlative in the classicism of his art. He styled of great purity, intense concentration, and rationality.
Camus died at the age of 46 years in a car accident near Sens in le Grand Fossard in the small town of Villeblevin.
Like, at first I thought that Camus was basically dissing the place that he grew up in, and I honestly don’t blame him. Like, the entire city is surrounded with a wall, which separates it from the Mediterranean. He sort of compares it with the major European cities, and suggests that compared to that what it happens to be is a provincial hell-hole that has nothing all that great about it. In fact, he insinuates that it is so dull and boring nobody could write about it.
It sort of sounded like one of the suburban car-dependant hell-holes that exist out on the edges of our cities like, say, here in Melbourne, Narre-Warren. The odd thing is that things do happen in these places, and sometimes they are put on the map. Like, Oran has been put on the map simply because Camus actually lived there – and he wrote about it – there is a really good story set there about how people go crazy at times when a natural disaster hits, like, say, a plague. As for Narre-Warren, I remember some kid there posted on MySpace way back at its beginning that he was having a party and that everybody was invited. Well, it turned out that everybody turned up.
However, after digging around a bit, I noticed that there seems to be another interpretation of this essay. Like the idea that the desert is a place where people go to retreat. Mind you, there are many places people go for a retreat, usually resorts in the tropics. However, I’m not sure if that is what is being suggested. It is not so much a relaxing vacation, but rather a spiritual retreat – a desert in the same way that Jesus wandered through for forty days. In fact, there are several ideas of where people wander into a desert.
Like, for instance, there is that story of the guy who so wanted to flee from sin, that he went into the middle of the desert and set himself atop a pole. In that way he could not be influenced by any of the bad things in this world. Hey, each to their own.
Mind you, I wouldn’t really consider Narre Warren to be a place to retreat to, particularly for a spiritual retreat. Like, the thing is, as Camus does point out, deserts are actually places of beauty and wonder, and surprisingly, absolutely full of life. Meanwhile, a hellscape is simply just that, and that is not a desert.
The Minotaur stands on the pebbles of Oran, slowly deceiving itself into the air and breath through the city, constantly consuming it. The boredom eats the nature that hides behind the mountains and far along to the seashore. From the street walk caving into the desert in Oran, they all have been given up from wandering, from exploring and in searching. As if the most beauty in holding power within the landscape is not enough.
The very section of sports, as in explained lived in boxing, and cheerleading, cheering, insisting. To fulfill the prophecy of understanding between Algiers and Oran, like they had never understood what’s behind what. Purely competition, but deeper it’s carved on their blood. This section explained beautifully like a light that moon the earth among hundreds of people, or probably among noises. So it became the monuments to be its anchor, that the stones and the wastelands, the galleons and the desires, to be a form of imagination of their great ancestors. The monk, or the conqueror. If i had to choose, i wouldn’t say ”yes“ to The Minotaur. Whether it’s in Oran, or even here, in Jakarta.