"the stranger" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cliff Notes)

As the trial progresses, Meursault feels more detached than ever. He's tempted, at times, to try to speak up; but he can't seem to do it. At first, he finds it interesting to hear himself being talked about, but after a while that, too, wears thin.

NOTE: In 1939, when he was writing The Stranger, Camus wrote and published essays on Franz Kafka, the noted author of The Trial and The Castle. In The Trial, the main character, Joseph K., is arrested and tried for a crime that is never revealed to him. It might be interesting for you to read The Trial and to pick out any similarities between Kafka's book and The Stranger.

First the prosecutor and then Meursault's lawyer deliver their closing speeches to the jury. The prosecutor repeats most of the evidence against Meursault. In his eyes, the case is "as clear as daylight." Notice the way the image of "light" is used in this context. Daylight, after all, was as much a "cause" of the crime as anything else, and Meursault's relation to light is anything but clear.

The prosecutor's speech bores Meursault. It is only his flamboyant gestures that catch Meursault's attention at all. The prosecutor stresses the notion that the murder of the Arab was premeditated. He describes Meursault as "an educated man" who knew exactly what he was doing when he killed the Arab. Not once, the prosecutor continues, has Meursault shown signs of remorse "for his most odious crime." In his own defense, Meursault is tempted to say that he's never felt remorse for anything in his entire life. He's been too preoccupied with the present and the immediate future to mull over things he's done in the past.

The prosecutor tells the jury that he's made a close study of the prisoner's soul and found it to be a complete blank. Thus Meursault, according to the prosecutor, can't be blamed for lacking a conscience, since he had no power to acquire one. Nonetheless, a man who is unable to feel regret for what he's done must be considered "a menace to society." As he ends his speech, the prosecutor refers to the case of parricide that directly follows Meursault's case on the court agenda. He implies that Meursault is not only morally guilty of the death of his own mother, but indirectly responsible for the second crime--the murder of a father by his son--as well, by having "set a precedent." The prosecutor begs the jury to find Meursault guilty and to sentence him to death.

The judge asks Meursault if he has anything to say. Meursault, who feels overcome by the heat as well as amazed at the prosecutor's statements, answers that he had no intention of killing the Arab. He tries to explain that the killing occurred "because of the sun," but of course no one in the court understands what he means. His lawyer merely shrugs and asks the judge to adjourn the court until the following afternoon.

The next day, the trial continues. In the heavy air, Meursault can barely pay attention to his lawyer's closing speech. He feels even more excluded from what's going on when he realizes that the lawyer is using "I" when referring to Meursault. He also realizes that his lawyer is much less talented than the prosecutor. The lawyer rehashes all the positive points about Meursault, but fails to say anything about Meursault's reason for killing the Arab. The lawyer also fails to call to the jury's attention that Meursault is on trial for murder, not for his actions toward his mother or with his friends. If you were Meursault's lawyer, what would you have done differently? It's possible, as some readers point out, that the killing of the Arab could be justified as self-defense. Remember that Meursault only fired after he saw the Arab's knife. But the lawyer mentions nothing about this. Instead, he tries to establish some connection between Meursault's soul and the excellence of government-financed nursing homes. He describes Meursault as a "steady, conscientious worker" who was "popular with everyone and sympathetic in others' troubles."

NOTE: Camus's description of the trial is an attempt to define the nature of truth and justice. Meursault's sense of detachment at his own trial may seem extreme, but Camus makes it clear that Meursault, given his own code of ethics, cannot participate in the trial without being untrue to himself. The trial is a game with a specific set of rules that have nothing to do with finding the truth, and Meursault refuses to play by any rules other than his own.

Toward the end of the lawyer's speech, Meursault is momentarily mesmerized by the sound of an ice cream vendor's horn in the street. The sound embodies all the pleasurable memories from his past and makes him realize the futility of everything that's going on in the courtroom. He feels like vomiting. All he wants to do is return to his cell and sleep.

While waiting for the verdict, Meursault looks around the courtroom. Celeste, Raymond, Marie--they are all still there. Meursault realizes that he hasn't thought much about Marie during the trial, and when she waves at him, smiling, he can't bring himself to smile back. He admits that his heart has "turned to stone." Some readers think that Meursault is acting callously when he doesn't return Marie's wave at this point, while others feel that he's just steeling himself against the verdict that will soon be delivered against him. By now we know that all of Meursault's responses have a number of possible meanings. When you're out of step with the rest of the world, Camus seems to be saying, nothing is clear.

The judge announces the verdict, "'In the name of the French people,'" he says, Meursault is "to be decapitated in some public place." No specific date is announced for the execution. Are you surprised at the verdict? Is the punishment justified? Do you think that if Meursault had "played the game"--if he'd shown some remorse at the trial--the jury would have been more sympathetic?

Meursault notices that everyone around him, now that they know he's going to die, treats him with "respectful sympathy." Meursault, however, shows no visible reaction. As he leaves the courtroom, he admits only that he's stopped thinking.

NOTE: The fact that Meursault is sentenced to death for murdering an Arab has been criticized as unrealistic. Although a European in that era might have been condemned for such an act, it is unlikely that he would have been sentenced to death under these circumstances. Most readers feel that Camus cast the victim as an Arab so that the full absurdity of the judicial system, rather than the crime itself, could be emphasized. Meursault is sentenced mainly for not conforming to the rules of society, rather than for murdering someone. The death of an Arab meant little to the jury. But a European victim could not so easily have been dismissed. Notice that during the trial, no Arab witnesses are called to describe the murder.

^^^^^^^^^^THE STRANGER: CHAPTER V

Some time has passed since the end of the trial. Meursault tells us that he's just refused to see the prison chaplain for the third time. He's been transferred to a different cell, where, lying on his back, he can see the sky. He spends his days fantasizing about escaping. He blames himself for not having paid more attention to stories of public executions. Possibly, he reasons, he would have come across at least one story where--at the last minute--the prisoner escapes. He knows, realistically, that even if he did make a desperate attempt to escape, he'd most likely be shot down before he got too far.

Meursault cannot "stomach this brutal attitude." He knows that the effects of the verdict are as certain as the wall of his cell, but this knowledge, more than anything else, triggers a part of his imagination that been relatively dormant until this time. He can no longer live for the pleasures of the moment, so he retreats into a fantasy world where anything is possible.

He remembers a story his mother used to tell him about his father. This is the first mention of Meursault's father in the book, and Meursault admits that he never set eyes on him. Apparently, Meursault's father witnessed the execution of a murderer, and the experience made him violently ill. Meursault tells us that at the time he thought his father's reaction "disgusting," but that now he realizes "nothing was more important than an execution." Some readers feel that Meursault's feelings about executions, and the reference to his father, is an attempt, on Meursault's part, to relate to his family, and to the father he never knew. Meursault, these critics think, would like to witness an execution in an attempt to prove that he could experience this event without becoming ill. Other readers feel that Meursault's desire to attend an execution indicates his hope that his own execution will be well-attended.

Just the thought of his own freedom, however, frightens Meursault, and he begins trembling. To imagine freedom, while condemned to death, has become a form of self-torture to him. Yet what else can he do? Does his desire to be free indicate that his attitude toward the world has changed?

NOTE: Camus's father dies when Camus was an infant. One of the few things Camus knew about him was that he'd witnessed an execution and had become sick afterwards. Reread "The Author and His Times" and note how much Meursault's relationship with his parents resembles Camus's relationship with his.

When he first heard the verdict, in the previous chapter, Meursault told us he "stopped thinking." Yet now, in the privacy of his cell, his thoughts occur so rapidly it's hard to keep track of them, His thoughts have become the "events" in his life.

He remembers once seeing a picture of a guillotine and how shiny it seemed, like "some laboratory instrument." Previously he had imagined that the criminal had to climb up steps to be guillotined. But in the picture "the machine is on the same level as the man." His attempt at imagining what his own execution will be like is a way of creating order and of giving these final moments of his life some meaning.

He knows that "they" will come for him at dawn. But which dawn? He gets into the habit of sleeping during the day and staying up all night, so he'll be ready when "they" arrive. With the passing of each dawn, he realizes he has another twenty-four hours to live.

He argues with himself about whether life is worth living. What difference does it make if you die when you are thirty or when you are seventy? Yet this argument gives him little consolation. He wants to go on living. Even if he had to spend the rest of his days in a prison cell, staring up at the sky, he would still have his thoughts, his dreams, and his memories. He fantasizes about the possibility that his appeal might be successful. But the thought that he might one day be a free man again makes him overexcited, and he reminds himself of the importance of keeping his thoughts under control.

He thinks also of Marie, and wonders why she hasn't written him in such a long time. Probably, he guesses, she grew tired of being the mistress of a condemned murderer. It occurs to him that she might be ill, or even dead. He realizes that if Marie were dead, that it would be pointless for him to even think about her. In Meursault's way of thinking, only the living matter. (Relate this to his feelings about his mother when he learns of her death.) He realizes, too, that after he dies everyone will forget him.

The chaplain arrives, unannounced, interrupting Meursault's train of thought. He assures Meursault that he's just making a friendly visit and asks Meursault to sit beside him. Meursault refuses, although he has nothing against the man and, in fact, finds him amiable and mild. After a long silence, the chaplain asks Meursault why he hasn't allowed him to visit previously. Meursault explains that he doesn't believe in God. The chaplain, much like the magistrate in an earlier chapter, refuses to accept Meursault's answer. He asks whether Meursault's lack of spirituality is due to a feeling of desperation. Meursault corrects him: he isn't feeling despair, only fear. The chaplain insists that everyone in a similar position has turned to God, but Meursault isn't interested. He doesn't have the time to enter into a conversation about God.