Albert Camus - The Stranger

unknowing:
Did you detect any psychological elements like psychopathy other than ‘existential’?

Chakra Superstar:

Note there are degrees and a continuum re Psychopathy like from ‘very good’ to ‘very evil’;

Prismatic, I did not see it as psychological they way a detective would trying to ascribe motive to the beach murder. I saw it through the eyes of a character who witnessed his neighbor kicking the dog for no reason. “Because it was there.” A chain of events that lacked purpose according to a preset belief system that prized no consistent beliefs.

Beautiful review- and I agree

Thanks Chakra for making the book sound so interesting, I may have to read it now.

Wendy, Notes From the Underground is awesome, too.

Chakra, can there be one of your reviews for that one too? :wink:

Thanks for your generous responses Angry and Wendy. :stuck_out_tongue:

Prismatic… how do I say this politely? Damn it, I can’t. The Dutton book/excerpt you posted is the biggest load of garbage I’ve read in a long, long time and remember, I browse ILP quite regularly… :-" It’s pop psychology at its worse – e.g. Psychopaths are detached… Buddhist monks and surgeons are detached… therefore, Buddhist monks and surgeons are psychopathic. WTF?

Psychopathy is as a complex of symptoms. You can’t take one or two traits out of context then label people. Buddhists are known for their compassion. Surgeons detach themselves so they can save lives. Compassion and saving lives are not psychopathic traits. Dutton even made up his own questionnaire rather than follow the standard diagnostic procedures… smh. I could go on, but I wont.

If you want academic info on psychopathy then check out Lobaczewski and Hare – perhaps the two most famous researchers on psychopathy. Lobaczewski is considered as the father of ponerology (the study of evil – particularly in the political arena) while Hare is a psychologist who developed the clinical standard for evaluating psychopaths. According to Hare’s diagnostic methods a person must have multiple traits in large enough degrees to be considered clinically psychopathic. Narcissism and intent are key socio/psychopathic traits that Meursault doesn’t have. Interestingly, his neighbours (one wants to terrorize his g/f and the other who abuses his dog then cries for himself when it’s gone) show us real sociopaths traits in the ‘normal’ population.

If you want to believe Meursault was a psychopath then that’s your call. I disagree on the diagnostic level but more importantly, because by labeling Meursault as a psychopath you’re missing the main thrust of the book. Meursault is not a good or bad person. He’s not right or wrong – he’s a hollow man… an empty man, empty of ambition and direction and unimpeded by religion, ethics, morals, laws and codes of behaviour. It is through his vacant eyes that we come to see what we normally don’t allow ourselves to see - the abyss.

Now this is where I might be reading too much into the book…
For the nihilist, the abyss is the end of the road. For the metaphysical seeker, the abyss is the point of transition (this is the stuff they don’t teach you in flower power guru school). Everyone who craves for real transformation will come face to face with the terror of the abyss and it is there that you’ll have to decide if you’ll turn back or jump in.

(Spoiler alert) In the last paragraph of the book Meursault says:
“As if that blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope; for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. Finding it so much like myself—so like a brother, really—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 execration.”

These are not the words of a psychopath. These are the words of a solitary man who has walked his own path and now, washed clean, awaits the crucifixion. Whether the lynch mob come to praise him or spit on him doesn’t matter to one who has reached this state of ‘gentle indifference’. His only wish is that they come and close off a life hitherto spent alone.

(one) who falls into the abyss becomes an air-man—free and floating – Lucebert

.

Hehe. Maybe ‘unknowing’ could write a review?

I didn’t like the book so I’d be interested to hear what people liked about it. Maybe I missed something but for me it was hard going reading the ramblings of a whiny middle-aged curmudgeon who was far too neurotic and hyper self-conscious to take to. If he were a friend, I’d slap him across the face and tell him to grow a set of balls.

Much of the stuff he said was quite revolutionary 150 years ago but today after the rise and fall of the communist and fascist utopias and the invention of psychology, marketing and propaganda, there’s wasn’t anything there for me to grab on to.

In response to the new ‘mathematically perfect’ utopias being considered at that time, he argued against them saying people don’t always choose what is rational and right for themselves. Sometimes they let their emotions choose for them even when they know it’s not in their best interests. People want to have the freedom to choose EVEN if that choice is not in their best interest. That’s cool. We have seen political and economic systems fail because of this but it’s not ground breaking anymore.

He did say something I think it IS good to remember from time to time and that is: Stupid people often get into powerful positions BECAUSE they’re stupid. Stupid people don’t see complexities and contradictions intelligent people do. Everything is simplified to being black or white, good or bad which allows them to act with full concentrated effort. Intelligent people, on the other hand, know too much and have too many options and they tend to see potential errors and problems stupid people don’t. This makes them seem indecisive, unclear and half-hearted when they do eventually act. Again, we see that daily particularly in the political sphere: we do things over and over again that create bigger problems down the track.

The last third of the book was the part I enjoyed most. Chronologically, these stories should have been placed at the start of the book because it was these experiences that drove the Underground Man, underground - into his basement. However this section consisted largely consisted of boring 19th century trivia and chatter and neurotic descriptions of the protagonist’s hatred of everyone. There was no poetic phrasing or clever insights so I found it rather tiresome and self-indulgent.

I understand that this little book should be viewed in the context of the time it was written. I get that. The concept of an anti-hero and first-person narration were new… the ideas mentioned above were very insightful for the time… and Dostoyevsky influenced a generation of writers that came after him yada… yada… yada… but that doesn’t necessarily make the book clever, interesting, insightful or engaging, today.

Having said that, I’d be happy to hear form others that got more out of it than I did.

.

I believe there is a continuum with psychopathy.
I would not take Buddhists [I am very familiar with Buddhism] as psychopaths too seriously, and perhaps they are likely to fit in at the lowest end of psychopathy.

I believe it is the ‘old school’ view of psychopathy i.e. confined to the clinical definition of psychopathy.

I have recently read of the other side of the continuum of psychopathy and many articles on this topic have been raised. This is how I had related this aspect of psychopathy [good] to Meursault.
Note this is an objective view of psychopathy based on neural connectivity and activities.

I understand Camus is into existential philosophy and I have taken note of that but I think philosophically we need to take into any other relevant information and thus widen our perspective to the issue.

You’re rationalizing it.

The French news were talking about Louis Ferdinand Céline today, and it reminded me of this post. Have anyone read him? Apparently his journey to the End of the Night became a French classic that also became controversial due to its antisemitism. He is also being compared to Cioran, but with additional biting black humor. According to his bio, he lived through 2 world wars, and I wonder if the wars had a direct influence on development of literary existential pessimism of this type, especially on sensitive/artistic psychologies.

Yeah, I read it and loved it… I’m not in the mood for writing much atm… I’m pretty tired; maybe later.

There’s no anti-Semitism in this book. You can call it racist (he uses the terms ‘nigger’ and ‘slaves’) if you want to be offended but he’s simply showing the ugliness of the French occupation in Africa and the mindless acquiesce of blacks who seem far too eager to please their masters now that they have accepted the white mans view of the world. The charge of anti-Semitism stems from political pamphlets he wrote years later.

Since Celine published before Cioran, I think Cioran should be compared to Celine not v.v. but either way, his black humour, (bitchy sarcasm and wit) are what makes the book a great read.

I don’t think the war(s) had a major effect on his outlook. Celine had only been involved in one war (WW1) when he wrote Journey to the End of the Night but even before that war, Celine was a full-blown pessimist. The absurdity and insanity of the war just crystallized his belief that humans will gladly accept any meaning or purpose offered them rather than face a meaningless world and become an outcast.

To philosophize is only another way of being afraid and leads hardly anywhere but to cowardly make-believe.” Celine

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjY3nfvkJ0Y[/youtube]

.

Ultimately, Meursault is condemned to death not for what he did but for what he did not do: cry at his mother’s funeral.

That is a good point and it also shows how far we’ve come in societal norms I’d say, in just a short time.

Meursault is the quintessential “existential man.” He does not live his life. His life, if you will, lives him. In existential terms: “he is his history.” His situation is fundamentally absurd because he is, as Sartre puts it, “responsible for everything except his own responsibility.” That is to say, he is not responsible for his “facticity.”

Meursault is estranged from himself.

I’d somewhat agree with that – Camus said as much himself – but I’d go a little further. I’d suggest he wasn’t killed because he didn’t cry at his mother’s funeral but because he didn’t pretend to cry. Like the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes, the crowd didn’t really care what other people saw only that they pretend to see what they have been told to see.

In the oppressive Algerian heat, the oily men stood handsome in their best Sunday suits and polished black shoes. They chatted amongst themselves mostly ignoring the old people from the nursing home who looked like bruised fruit that had fallen from the large tree above them. The young Arab girls were fussing over the old people so that was enough. In mourning dress, black hats and sunglasses the women took on the appearance of a murder of crows sitting on a wire. Occasionally they’d pass a rehearsed look of sadness between each other as they waited and watched the priest make the final preparations for the short walk to the cemetery.

This was the story of the prodigal son returning. The townsfolk expected to see a biblical re-enactment played out before them. They came to hear the wayward son blubber words of contrition and see pleas of forgiveness dribble like saliva from his lips. They wanted to look into his red swollen face and see guilt in another’s face rather than staring back at them in the mirror. But more than anything, they wanted to see his eyes burst open and catch fire when the priest told his favourite stories about mercy and miracles, about being raised from the grave and being swallowed into a stainless steel blue sky.

When they got the chance, the townspeople would offer the poor man forgiveness, condolences and unsolicited advice. Feeling pity for a fellow human being always made them feel patronisingly superior, yet humble - one of the perks of being a Christian. But the man before them was a hollow man. He had no place where pity could be received so when his dry eyes turned towards the women they quickly looked away or rumble through their handbags searching for an excuse to avoid his naked stare. What strange man is this? Who doesn’t cry at his mother’s funeral?

Meursault was at the funeral for practical reasons - he had to bear witness and sign papers - besides he got two days off and, as luck would have it, the two days ran into the weekend. His mother’s death was a nice little surprise. Tomorrow he’d be home. He’d spend the day on the beach and make love to a woman who, like his mother, would leave him without saying where she was going. This departure would disappoint him more than his mother’s because this time, he wouldn’t be able to get time off work.

A man who feared being ostracized by society would distort his face and sob at his mother’s funeral even if he was glad she was dead. A man who wished to manipulate others would play along and sob for the appreciative audience as well but Meursault remained indifferent. He didn’t even make an attempt to look sad. A person who doesn’t fear society’s judgement… who doesn’t fear being ostracised… is a person who can’t be manipulated and a person who can’t be manipulated, cannot be controlled. This is a dangerous man, indeed.

Rituals are very important to society. They are expressions of shared beliefs and shared beliefs are what keep societies bound together. On a psychological level, shared beliefs are what give individuals personal identity, purpose and meaning so one who unravels the weave is playing with fire. This is what happened to Meursault. His beliefs, opinions and hopes had been unravelling his entire life. By the time of his mother’s death, there was little of him left to grieve and even less of him to worry about what others might say.

Sometime later, another crowd would come; this time they would come to see Meursault die. Like the first crowd, these people would be sorely disappointed because rather than being splashed with tears, Meursault would take his place on the gallows with dry open eyes. With clear eyes he would look up and see what the priest had meant by the stainless steel-blue sky.

(I’ll be away for a while so I won’t comment until I get back. Please don’t start a “Is Chakra Dead?” thread while I’m gone. :sunglasses: )
.

I would argue that it never would have occurred to Meursault to pretend to cry. The “early” (i.e., the pre-death sentence) Meursault is characterized by a distinct lack of self-awareness. It is only through the resolute confrontation of death that Meursault finally achieves authentic existence and, ironically, is robbed of it. If we over-interpret this fine little work, we do injustice to Camus’ brilliant minimalism.

Chakra: Forgive my “over-interpret” comment, it was ham-handed and undeserved. Bad day (no excuse).

No problem, No6. No need to apologise. Your interpretation is just as valid as mine. After all, it’s just fiction.

What I like about fiction is that the reader is part of the story. It’s up to the reader to see, reject and to interpret. I just think good books can be read on multiple levels – psychological, philosophical mythical, spiritual – but if I were forced to choose one interpretation, then it would have to come from Camus’ own essay: ‘The Myth of Sisyphus’.

Here Camus states: “There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the rest – whether or not the world has three dimensions, whether the mind has nine or twelve categories – comes afterwards”

Camus asserts that when a person comes to realize that the universe is indifferent to his needs and that his life has no purpose beyond the mundane, then he’s confronted with the question of whether life is worth the struggle and suffering it demands. Physical suicide is one option; the other is psychological suicide.

For Camus, psychological suicide is when one grabs onto a pre-fabricated religion (or secular belief system) because it offers them a meaning and thus a reason to live. It’s a suicide because it kills one’s personal quest for truth which Camus sees as self-deception and an escape into make-believe.

Camus, however, offers a third option: he suggests we accept the fact that life is ‘absurd’ and rather than physical or mental suicide, we should face absurdity with defiance and respond to it by getting as much pleasure out of the world while we can. Like Meursault when he was in prison, one has to adapt and get the best out of the worst situations. (Interestingly, Camus doesn’t say there definitely isn’t something beyond our intellectual capacity or sense perception but that it is, by definition, unknowable and thus should be left at that.)

“The only way
to deal with an unfree world
is to become so absolutely free
that your very existence
is an act of rebellion”

Albert Camus

Personally, I like to look at things from multiple angles and Camus has left more than enough clues (consciously or subconsciously) in his little book that allows it to be interpreted through a psychological lens (Freudian/Oedipus), a mythological lens, (Jungian/archetypal) and/or a spiritual/non-duality lens (transformation). Each of these is fascinating in its own right and each complements the other by adding layer upon layer to our perpetual quest for understanding.

“In the midst of winter,
I found there was, within me,
an invisible summer.”

Albert Camus

PS: Ignore my last post; it was just a bit of fun. While it was loosely based on the book I got carried away and got a bit too ‘creative’.
.