Camus’ Meursault: reprehensible or sympathetic?
“By their actions do we know them.” — H. Porter Abbott. To what extent do the actions of Meursault encourage the reader to find him reprehensible?
In Albert Camus’ ‘The Outsider’, translated from the original ‘L’étranger’, the writer creates an ambiguous platform on which to interrogate society of 1940s Algiers and the central protagonist, Meursault. It could be argued Camus portrays a man who may be seen as reprehensible — a sociopath indifferent to societal expectations. However, Camus’ focus on philosophical topics and absurdism are reflective of his context — Absurdism, a school of thought ‘born of… confrontation between the human need and the unreasonable silence of the world’¹, grew significantly following World War Two with writers like Beckett and Stoppard — and the character of Meursault can be seen as admirable in his typification of man’s plight. However, he may also be seen as the product of a colonialist and racist society, arguably more disgraceful than the character himself. Camus’ clever narrative techniques invite us to assess Meursault at every turn, consider what it means to be human, and contemplate society’s judgement of people.
Camus’ use of voice invites us to form a judgement of the protagonist at the opening of the narrative. In ‘The Art of Fiction’, David Lodge states ‘the beginning… is the threshold, separating the real world we inhabit from the world the novelist has imagined’². Camus begins in medias res, creating this ‘threshold’ by thrusting us into an ambiguous world, where reality becomes unbalanced. He uses the first person to give Meursault a voice of apparent grief and sadness with ‘Mother died today’, inviting us to empathise; we disregard the definitive caesura, responding instead with emotion and sympathy. However Camus quickly explicates the opening tone with the sentence that follows: ‘Or maybe yesterday, I don’t know.’ The initial feeling of loss is juxtaposed with a sense of apathetic aloofness and detachment, contrasting ‘Mother’, a word translated from the original, far more intimate ‘Maman’. (It is important to note that this text is being studied in translation, and some English words or phrases struggle to encapsulate the entirety of their French meaning.) This encourages the reader to initially perceive Meursault as ‘flat’- ‘what you see is what you get’³— there appears to be little human complexity, empathy or depth to his responses. His methodical plan for the day, ‘I’ll catch the two o’clock bus’, is not reflective of society’s expectations for a man whose mother has just ‘died’. The narrator shies away from euphemisms to depict death, instead seeming rather inconvenienced by his requirement to ‘keep the vigil’, suggesting an awareness of social convention, but his boss’ reaction where ‘I even said “It’s not my fault.”… Then I thought maybe I shouldn’t have said that.’ begins to highlight the fact that, while aware, he remains reliant upon the reactions of others to fully understand social convention, ensuring he remains marginalised to an arguably sociopathic extent. The opening of ‘L’étranger’ draws us in; the passive voice of the narrator starkly contrasted by emotional events invites us to judge this anomalous, apathetic member of Algerian society.
Camus’ development of Meursault allows us to become more certain of his sociopathic tendencies and lack of empathy for others, making him appear anything but sympathetic. The author’s use of setting and imagery when Meursault murders the ‘Arab’ on an exposed beach bares Meursault to further scrutiny and judgement at this pivotal crux. The onomatopoeia in ‘the cymbals the sun… clashing against my forehead’, and the anthropomorphic qualities assigned to the environment where ‘the whole beach was reverberating… pressing against me’ create a hypersensitive atmosphere suggesting he stands at odds with the world. This is developed with the motif of the ‘ringing… sun’, a celestial body associated with power and symbolic of Algiers. Camus uses irony, juxtaposing the Arab’s comfort ‘lying… his whole body in the sun’ with Meursault’s discomfort as he ‘tensed my whole body in defiance’, signifying Meursault’s conflict with this culture and city — he is an outsider of both Algerian society and his physical environment, encouraging our perception of Meursault as culpable. Ironically, as a white, French male in an Arabic-speaking colony, we would expect him to hold a position of power, yet nevertheless, he remains vulnerable to society’s criticisms, forced into a ‘drunken haze’ of preconceived notions and conformity. Vladimir Shlapentokh wrote ‘restrictions can be so severe that people with supposedly lower social status… can essentially be freer than the… ruling class’, revealing that the society Camus paints in 1942 is very much reflected in today’s. Critics such as George Heffernan have also called the protagonist inherently racist, stating he ‘commits a callous crime against an indigenous person. Thus he appears to be guilty of… racism, and colonialism.’⁴ The theme of judgement pertinent to the novel remains relevant, as Camus questions whether we judge Meursault based on objective fact or implicit prejudice and intolerance. Ultimately, although Camus suggests that Meursault is inherently fallible, he places a wider blame on a discordant, racist and colonialist society that discards those who do not adhere to expectation and norm.
This discordant society is made more evident through the oppositions created by Camus’ use of language and structural juxtaposition in the trail setting, encouraging the reader to see Meursault as fallible, but far from reprehensible. Camus’ narrative gap forces us to ‘fill things in if we are to make sense of the narratives we read ’⁵, encouraging our evaluation of Meursault as his fate changes dramatically. As soon as Meursault enters the courtroom, he is judged by ‘all the people… staring at you in the hope of finding something in your appearance’. The metonym for society in the collective ‘all the people’ suggests Camus is criticising our innate desire to judge individuals without preamble. Meursault’s actions up until now are still under debate — it is not until his behaviour is examined under spotlight that his villainy or heroism is finally revealed. Camus’ use of judicial jargon creates insincerity in the court’s lexis, reflective of the society he critiques. The judge demonstrates the law’s restrictions when he says ‘It’s a formal question. I am bound to put it.’; there is little care for the evident answer — curiosity is artificial. The juxtaposition of Meursault’s trial with ‘the case of parricide immediately after’ and the perverse curiosity it arouses suggests his act of murder is of little import, that will ‘take only two or three days’. The racism of French society is made more apparent; murder is deemed insignificant when that man killed is ‘Arab’. Camus’ use of structure suggests it is the collective attitude which is reprehensible rather than the individual.
Camus’ emphasis of the collective society as reprehensible is highlighted by his skillful use of language to create conflict, shifting the focus of the narrative to comment on our judgement of the individual. We stand with Meursault as he is the narrator, but remain aware of the antagonism created by the ‘Public Prosecutor’, and the prejudices of the French jury. Camus’ choice of language when referring to Meursault is the antithesis of the judicial jargon, highlighting Meursault’s emotional response and allowing us to sympathise. The Warden describes Meursault’s ‘calmness’; ‘he explained… I hadn’t wanted to see Mother’s body… I didn’t know my mother’s age.’ The honesty to the accounts contrasts the court’s insincerity. Camus once stated that ‘In our society any man who does not weep at his mother’s funeral runs the risk of being sentenced to death.’⁶. It seems absurd that the trial’s focus has shifted so drastically. We are filled with a feeling of dread — despite knowing objectively that the protagonist’s actions should be punished there is a sense of unfairness towards the proceedings. Camus’ emotive imagery, ‘I had a foolish desire to burst into tears’, ironically makes this moment the most human portrayal of Meursault yet — ‘I’d realized how all these people loathed me… I wanted to kiss a man’ reveal that Meursault cannot be described as entirely apathetic, and is not immune to emotional needs. The paradox presented is aptly summarised with ‘Is my client on trial for having buried his mother, or for killing a man?’; we are left to decide whether we agree with the Prosecutor’s judgement that Meursault is ‘a criminal at heart’, or instead criticise a society that sentences a man based on his attitude towards his mother’s death.
Meursault’s ‘criminal’ character is brought into question again as Camus reaches the denouement, with Meursault’s philosophical epiphany. The author’s use of lyrical language to implore us to reconsider our judgement of him forces us to weigh up Meursault’s sympathetic and reprehensible qualities. The existentialist question of what it is to be human appears to be answered with Meursault’s realisation of the meaningless absurdity of the world. His final, personal address in the face of death as ‘Then, for some reason, something exploded inside of me’ is exhilarating in its humanity and freedom. Meursault’s newfound deliverance when ‘this great outburst of anger had purged all my ills… I looked up at the… night sky and laid myself open for the first time to the gentle indifference of the world’ is poetic in lexis and complex in syntax — structurally, Meursault’s language directly contrasts the apathetic simplicity of the opening ‘Mother died today’, suggesting he has undergone a profoundly heroic journey. The reference to the natural ‘sky’ indicates release from the constraints of society, further demonstrated by the setting sun ‘when the sky turned red and a new day slid into my cell’. Rather than signifying estrangement and ever-present judgement as it previously did, the ‘sun’ motif and ‘red’ of dawn represent rebirth; Meursault has been enlightened in his final moments to a level worthy of admiration. This setting however, may also be ironic — Camus juxtaposes the entrapment of priso n and proximity of death with an image of new beginnings — a theme mirrored in Meursault’s own speech: ‘I too felt ready to live my life again’. Arguably, the final execution suggests Meursault is still a victim of society, trapped physically by its standards, liberated only emotionally. We are forced to question whether his struggle was worth his realisation, and Camus lets us decide whether we agree with Meursault’s absurdist view of the world. In conclusion, through his ambiguous presentation of Meursault, Camus brings into question morality, societal conventions and the meaning of existence. Ultimately, the character may be seen as reprehensible for actions and apparent indifference towards the world. However there is an undeniably heroic quality to his enlightenment and ability for rational thought. Camus’ use of ‘reprehensible’ characteristics and constant encouragement to judge his protagonist only serve to heighten Meursault’s final understanding at the conclusion of the novel, and the ultimate blame falls instead on a society, bent on perpetrating prejudiced beliefs and exacting its judgement on all. Meursault is heroic precisely because of his absurdist beliefs and disregard for the opinions of such a flawed system.
Note: I wrote this when I was 17 as part of an A-Level coursework, and as such, this no longer reflects my beliefs.
Bibliography
Abbott, H.Porter. The Cambridge Introduction to Narrative (2002), Cambridge University Press
Camus, Albert. L’étranger (2000), Penguin Classics, Trans: Laredo, Joseph. (1982)
Camus, Albert. The Myth of Sisyphus (2013), Penguin UK
Caroll, David. Albert Camus the Algerian: Colonialism, Terrorism, Justice (2007) Columbia University Press
Heffernan, George. “J’ai Compris Que J’étais Coupable” A Hermeneutical Approach to Sexism, Racism, and Colonialism in Albert Camus’s L’Étranger/ The Stranger (2014), Cambridge Scholars Publishing
Lodge, David. The Art of Fiction (1992), London: Penguin
Orwell, George. 1984 (2004), Penguin Books Limited
Shlapentokh, Vladimir. Restricting Freedoms: Limitations on the Individual in Contemporary America (2013), Transaction Publisher
[1] Camus, Albert. The Myth of Sisyphus (1942)
[2] Lodge, David. The Art of Fiction (1992), London: Penguin
[3] Abbott, H.Porter. The Cambridge Introduction to Narrative (2002), Cambridge University Press
[4] Heffernan, George. “J’ai Compris Que J’étais Coupable” A Hermeneutical Approach to Sexism, Racism, and Colonialism in Albert Camus’s L’Étranger/ The Stranger (2014), Cambridge Scholars Publishing
[5] ibid
[6] Caroll, David. Albert Camus the Algerian: Colonialism, Terrorism, Justice (2007) Columbia University Press
