Many
times during The Stranger one feels
that Meursault is odd. Simply odd. He has lived his life in a way that no one
else that is assumed to be normal ever has.
If it is true that this novel holds a certain value because of its
questioning nature, one must link the questions that it poses to different
characteristics of mankind.
During
recent history, mankind has dedicated itself to making life interesting, be it
war, technology, or home furnishing, the human race is no longer talked about
as precisely that, a race. All our basic
necessities are covered, food, water, shelter and so on— I am not neglecting
the several situations where this isn’t true, but the human race that The Stranger refers to is not one that
is worried about starvation. So
Meursault is free, he can existentialize himself
all he wants, but that won’t change the restrictions that society has to impose
to maintain order. Mankind is free to
investigate science, literature, mourning-process-psychology, sports or education;
but the freedom of an individual end where those of another begin. I am obviously not the first to say this, but
given the elevated and abstract nature of the novel at hand, it is worth
mentioning. This right is not questionable,
and Camus has not respected it. He
questioned the legitimacy and importance of murder. That is not right. This, reader, is why you felt that Meursault
is odd. Simply odd. That fact that he doesn’t mourn after his
precious Maman’s death is not what makes him odd. It is that he approaches death with an
attitude that no adjective can describe.
It is wrong and it is odd.

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