The absurd, for Camus in The Stranger as well as in The Myth of Sisyphus, is the meaninglessness lying at the heart of our existence, our lives, and our being.
The Stranger is not only a stranger to the world or the others, but also to himself, his existence, his own body, that is, his whole being. There is an unbearable meaninglessness lying at the heart of, and giving rise to, this strangeness. But what is the origin of this meaninglessness?
There are two encounters, appearing rather early in The Stranger, that show the force of what Camus endeavors to accomplish in and through the novel, which is the acknowledgement that there is meaninglessness dwelling and rooted in our being, our existence, and our lives.
Just then, my employer sent for me … He wanted to discuss a project he had in view, though so far he’d come to no decision. It was to open a branch at Paris, … and he wanted to know if I’d like a post there.
. . . I told him I was quite prepared to go, but really I didn’t care much one way or the other.
He then asked if a “change of life,” as he called it, didn’t appeal to me, and I answered that one never changed one’s real life; anyhow, one life was as good as another and my present one suited me quite well.
. . . I returned to my work. I’d have preferred not to vex him, but I saw no reason for “changing my life.” By and large it wasn’t an unpleasant one. As a student I’d had plenty of ambition of the kind he meant. But, when I had to drop my studies, I very soon realized that all that was pretty futile.
Albert Camus, The Stranger
Marie came that evening and asked me if I’d marry her. I said I didn’t mind; if she was keen on it, we’d get married. Then she asked me again if I loved her. I replied, much as before, that her question meant nothing or next to nothing— but I supposed I didn’t.
“If that’s how you feel,” she said, “why marry me?”
I explained that it had no importance really but, if it would give her pleasure, we could get married right away.
I pointed out that anyhow the suggestion came from her; as for me, I’d merely said “Yes.”
Then she remarked that marriage was a serious matter.
To which I answered: “NO.”
Albert Camus, The Stranger
The force of these two passages is that they immediately and directly deliver into that from out of which Camus’s thinking arises, into that around which Camus’s whole thinking revolves, which is the meaninglessness lying at the heart of human existence. This inescapable meaninglessness, this inevitable absurdity, renders valueless, futile, and empty all of our endeavors, all of our opportunities.
Although it is immediately clear that, for Camus in The Stranger, life and existence are absurd, that is, meaningless, the nature and meaning of this absurdity, this meaninglessness, remain unclear. Is the absurd in The Stranger only a feeling, of which also The Myth of Sisyphus speaks, or is it a concept? One possible answer is found in Sartre’s A Commentary on the Stranger.
Sartre’s review of The Stranger
According to Sartre, the absurd in Camus’s novel arises and announces itself merely as a feeling and not as a notion or an idea:
As we have said, Camus distinguishes between the feeling and the notion of the absurd. In this respect, he writes, “Like great works, deep feelings always convey more meaning than they are aware that they do… Intense feelings carry with them their own universe— splendid or wretched, as the case may be”. A bit further on he adds, “the feeling of the absurd is not the same as the idea of the absurd. The idea is grounded in the feeling, that is all. It does not express… it.” We would say that the aim of The Myth of Sisyphus is to convey the idea of the absurd, and that of The Stranger is to convey the feeling.
Jean-Paul Sartre, A commentary on The Stranger
For Sartre, the absurd in The Stranger is thus only a feeling and not an idea or a notion. There are, however, other opposing views that see Sartre’s reading of The Stranger as problematic, for there are many observations and suggestions in the novel that acknowledge and confirm that the absurd is not only a feeling, but also a truth deciding and governing human existence and hence an idea or a notion.
Meursault’s encounter with the priest is one of the instances in which the absurd is announced, thought, and confirmed not merely as a feeling, but rather as a truth defining and determining human existence. In this encounter, Meursault speaks about death as that from out of which all absurdity emerges and holds sway, that is, death as the origin of all absurdity and every meaninglessness.
Nothing, nothing had the least importance, and I knew quite well why. He, too, knew why. From the dark horizon of my future a sort of slow, persistent breeze had been blowing towards me, all my life long, from the years that were to come. And on its way that breeze had levelled out all the ideas that people tried to foist on me in the equally unreal years I then was living through… As a condemned man himself, couldn’t he grasp what I meant by that dark wind blowing from my future?
Albert Camus, The Stranger
This passage speaks of death, our inevitable disappearance and destruction, and accordingly, it speaks not of a feeling that Meursault simply has, but rather of a truth lying at the heart of human existence itself, which is that there is an end rendering absent and destructed everything that has ever been, everything that will ever be.
That which renders absent and destructed the entirety of everything that has ever been, that is, death, is the origin of every meaninglessness and all absurdity. Hence, to reduce the absurd in The Stranger to only a feeling might not be accurate, for, as this passage makes clear, Camus is also interested in the truth, perhaps the only truth, defining and governing the totality of human existence, which is death.
There are other instances in the novel where Meursault makes very clear his conviction, and not only his feeling, that life and existence are meaningless. For instance, the killing of the Arab shows how and to what extent life, for Meursault, is meaningless, since this killing, this murdering, is seen not as a sin and perhaps not even as a crime, but rather as a mere “criminal offence”.
The following passage shows how Camus, because of the meaninglessness lying at the heart of human existence and life, problematizes what he means by “crime” and “criminal”. That is, the utter meaninglessness rooted in our being blurs even the boundaries that define and render clear what should and should not be seen as “criminal”.
He gazed at me intently and rather sadly.
“Never in all my experience have I known a soul so case-hardened as yours,” he said in a low tone. “AII the criminals who have come before me until now wept when they saw this symbol of our Lord’s sufferings.”
I was on the point of replying that was precisely because they were criminals. But then I realized that I, too, came under that description. Somehow it was an idea to which I never could get reconciled”
Albert Camus, The Stranger
Words such as “criminal” and “crime” lose their meanings amid the meaninglessness permeating existence and shaping our lives. This meaninglessness is not and cannot be only a feeling, but also an idea, a notion, emerging from a truth defining our existence in the world, which is that there is an end after which there is nothing but our disappearance, destruction, and non-existence.
The absurd is an idea from out of which a feeling arises and dominates; an idea because it says something true about human existence, perhaps the only truth: Death renders everything absent, destructed, and meaningless.
But why is death that which inserts meaninglessness into human existence? Because, for Meursault, death is the utter destruction, the complete disappearance, in a Godless universe, of an existence that is naturally inclined and turned toward God. The following passage makes apparent this natural inclination, pertaining to the human being, toward God, toward the infinite:
All of a sudden he swung round on me, and burst out passionately:
“No! No!! I refuse to believe it. I’m sure you’ve often wished there was an after-life.”
Of course I had, I told him. Everybody has that wish at times. But that had no more importance than wishing to be rich, or to swim very fast, or to have a better-shaped mouth. It was in the same order of things.
Albert Camus, The Stranger
Yet this natural turning toward God is nothing but a leaning toward the impossible, for there is no God and hence no immortality.
Why,” he asked, “don’t you let me come to see you”?
I explained that I didn’t believe in God…
… Thereat he stood up, and looked me straight in the eyes… His voice was quite steady when he said: “Have you no hope at all? Do you really think that when you die you die outright, and nothing remains?
I said: “Yes.”
He dropped his eyes and sat down again. He was truly sorry for me, he said. It must make life unbearable for a man, to think as I did.
Albert Camus, The Stranger
The absurd in The Stranger is thus the inescapable meaninglessness permeating existence and life. The origin of this meaninglessness is death, for it is the complete destruction of a being that naturally longs for immortality. In this natural longing for immortality, that toward which the human being is truly turned is the infinite itself, taking place and announcing itself as God. This longing is thus a longing for the impossible. (This article discusses what Camus means by infinite hope and absurd hope)
Yet it is not only death that inserts meaninglessness into the heart of human existence; also the unintelligibility, separating the human being and the world from each other, renders existence meaninglessness. There are many passages in the novel, resembling The Myth of Sisyphus, that suggest that the obscurity or the incomprehensibility pertaining to human existence is also another source of the meaninglessness defining and shaping our existence in the world. (This article discusses what Camus means by the absurd in The Myth of Sisyphus)
For more articles discussing Camus’s thought, visit this webpage.