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

Meursault suggests that Raymond give him the revolver. This is a crucial moment, and you should consider Meursault's motive for taking the weapon from Raymond. Some readers feel that he's taking it as a precautionary measure, that he's less likely to use the gun than Raymond. Others think that he wants the gun so that he can be more fully involved in the episode. Still others hold that Meursault subconsciously wants to do something that will alter his life and that possessing the gun is a way of taking control of his destiny.

As the men continue to eye one another, Meursault thinks that it makes no difference whether one fires the gun or not. "It would come to absolutely the same thing," he observes to himself. What do you think he means by this?

Then, suddenly, the two Arabs leave, and Meursault and Raymond return to the bungalow. Raymond is in a better mood, perhaps because he feels he's redeemed himself "as a man" in Meursault's eyes. (Do you remember the incident between Raymond and the policeman earlier in the novel?) But once back at the bungalow, Meursault can't make the effort to climb the steps to go inside and be sociable. The sunlight is too blinding, too strong, and once again the feeling that nothing matters, that "to stay, or to make a move--it [comes] to much the same," takes over.

Meursault returns to the beach. He walks now like a shell-shocked veteran returning to the scene of battle. But he isn't thinking of the Arabs. Instead, his conflict is with the red, glaring sun, which presses itself on him from all sides. His temples are throbbing. He's sensitive to every vivid reflection of light on the hot sand. He clenches his fists in his pockets and grits his teeth, determined to ignore the sun and the "dark befuddlement" it's causing in him. His goal is to return to the cool stream and the shade of the rock where he and Raymond encountered the Arabs on their last walk. But when he reaches his destination he discovers that one of the Arabs--Raymond's antagonist--has also returned.

When Meursault sees the Arab, he's shocked. He thought that the incident between Raymond and the Arab was closed. Not once on his walk from the bungalow to the rock did he think of meeting the Arabs. For a moment, Meursault realizes that he has the freedom to walk away, that the situation between Raymond and the Arab doesn't involve him directly. But, writes Camus, "the whole beach, pulsing with heat, [is] pressing on [his] back." It's too difficult even to turn around. He takes some more steps toward the stream. Is it possible he is still thinking only of the cool water, rather than of a confrontation with the Arab? The intensity of the heat reminds him of the heat at his mother's funeral.

NOTE: As Meursault confronts the Arab, the language he uses to describe the scene becomes more intense than in any previous section of the novel: "becalmed in a sea of molten steel" and "gouging into my eyeballs." Is Camus deliberately matching the intensity of the language with the action? You might want to compare the translation with the French original to make sure the translator is not subtly altering Camus's wording.

Almost as if he is trying to get out of the scorching sun, Meursault again steps forward, knowing that it's probably a foolish thing to do. At that, the Arab takes out his knife. As the light shoots upward from the blade, the sweat pours down over Meursault's face and eyes, blinding him. He hears the "cymbals of the sun clashing on [his] skull." He senses a "fiery gust" rise from the sea, the sky crack in two, and a sheet of flames pour through the crack. He seems--as he presses down on the trigger of the gun in his pocket--like a man possessed. It is not even certain, as he fires a shot at the Arab, that he has done so deliberately: "The trigger gave...." But, with the sound of the gun he knows "all [begins]." He's shattered the balance of the day and the peacefulness of the beach. Then he fires four more times at the body of the Arab but he does not tell us why he does this. Is it the action of someone temporarily insane?

Some readers compare Meursault's killing of the Arab to the outbreak of a war, where the peacefulness of a beautiful landscape is shattered by violent action. The death of one person, these readers say, is as important as the hundreds of thousands of deaths that occur during a war. For Camus, all forms of violence are equally meaningless; nothing can justify the killing of another person.

Other readers interpret the murder of the Arab as an indication of the violent impulse inherent in all people. Up to this point, Meursault doesn't seem like the type of person who would commit murder. These readers feel that his act is a reflection of the violence brewing beneath the surface; it exposes the naked violence in the most apparently harmless of people. The acts of violence in the book so far--Salamano beating his dog and Raymond beating his girlfriend and fighting her brother--have arisen out of passion. How does Meursault's indifference lead to violence?

Camus believed that most people don't realize the absurdity and meaninglessness of their lives. The recognition of the absurd occurs when the routine that characterizes each life has been destroyed. Ask yourself, as you read Part Two, whether killing the Arab, and the consequent disruption of Meursault's routine, has altered Meursault's way of looking at the world.

^^^^^^^^^^THE STRANGER: CHAPTER I

Does killing the Arab really change Meursault's life? Obviously, he's no longer free to follow his impulses: to go to the beach when he wants, to live for the pleasures of the moment. Yet in the first chapter of Part Two the tone he uses to describe his experiences is similar to the tone in Part One. He's still trying to make sense of the world. Only now he's involved in an area of society--prison, the law, the courts--where he's truly a stranger. Let's see how the restrictions of prison life and his dealings with the judicial procedure affect his attitude toward the world.

During his first interviews with the police, Meursault has the feeling that no one is particularly interested in him or his case. (This is in direct contrast to the circumstances surrounding his mother's death, when everyone--even people who didn't know her--was concerned about Meursault's feelings.) The police, and later the magistrate, all ask him the same questions: name, address, occupation, date and place of birth. The magistrate, however, does seem curious about him (as you read further you'll find out why) and asks whether he's hired a lawyer. Meursault answers that he has no lawyer and that it has never occurred to him to get one. He doesn't seem particularly concerned that he's about to go on trial for murder. He assumes his case is "simple" and that a lawyer isn't necessary.

The magistrate explains that, in keeping with the law, the court will appoint a lawyer to defend him. Meursault's attention shifts from what the magistrate is telling him to the physical surroundings. He notices the angle of the light from the lamp on the magistrate's desk, the armchair, and the curtained windows. You've seen this happen before: whenever Meursault begins to lose interest in the person he's talking to, he begins to take note of his surroundings. During the interview, he gets a close look at the magistrate's face and observes that the man has a nervous tic at the side of his mouth. The magistrate seems intelligent, almost likeable, and Meursault is even tempted to shake his hand on leaving.

The next day a lawyer arrives at Meursault's cell. Apparently, the case isn't as simple as Meursault thinks. According to the lawyer, the police have been investigating his private life and have learned that he showed "great callousness" at his mother's funeral. He asks Meursault whether he felt unhappy on the occasion of his mother's death. Meursault answers by saying that he'd been fond of his mother, but that "all normal people," at various times, have desired the death of those they loved.

Meursault obviously includes himself among the "normal people," yet you know that his attitude toward the world is anything but normal. Do you think that his response to the lawyer's question is honest? Is he wise to have answered so bluntly?

The lawyer is shocked by Meursault's response. He makes Meursault promise not to express any negative sentiments about his mother to the magistrate or at the trial. Meursault agrees, he tells us, but only "to satisfy" the lawyer. Recall how earlier in the book Meursault agrees to marry Marie to satisfy her and how he writes the letter for Raymond to satisfy him. What does this willingness to please tell us about Meursault's personality? Is he being honest with himself when he gives in so easily to other people's wishes?

Meursault explains to the lawyer that his feelings are influenced by his physical state at any given moment. When he was at his mother's funeral, he was in a state of near exhaustion and "hardly took stock of what was happening." This is one of the rare instances in the book that Meursault seems aware of why he acts and feels the way he does.

Meursault refuses to lie and explain his actions at the funeral by saying, as the lawyer suggests, that he had kept his emotions under control. He can't understand the connection between his behavior at his mother's funeral and the murder of the Arab. The lawyer is perplexed and irritated by Meursault's attitude. In his eyes, Meursault is being naive. He tells Meursault that the warden of the home and other members of the staff will undoubtedly testify at the trial, and that their description of Meursault's behavior on the day of the funeral will be used against him. The lawyer knows that the prosecutor will use anything he can to find Meursault guilty, and that the basis of the case will be his behavior at his mother's funeral.

Until his period of imprisonment, Meursault has not felt particularly alienated from society. Recall his surprise in Part One when Salamano told him of his neighbor's harsh criticisms. He has been vaguely aware that people like Marie and his boss thought he was odd because of the way he reacted to his mother's death, but otherwise he has had no sense that he is living his life in an unusual way. Only when he is confronted by the religious and judicial branches of society does he feel like an outsider.

NOTE: Camus has described Meursault as a person who "doesn't play the game" of society. In these initial interviews with the lawyer, you see a man who will not compromise his notion of the truth to save his own life. His mother's death is more of an annoyance to him than a source of real regret, and it's this shade of meaning that ultimately condemns him.

Later that day, Meursault has another interview with the magistrate. The first thing that strikes him when he enters the magistrate's office is that the room is flooded with light and is extremely hot. You know by now how sensitive he is to light and heat, and how frequently his present physical state determines the things he says and does. The magistrate tells him that his lawyer won't be present for the interview and that Meursault isn't required to answer any questions. But Meursault is indifferent about his lawyer's not being present.

The magistrate begins to probe into Meursault's personality. "What really interests me," he tells Meursault, "is--you!" At the magistrate's request, Meursault recounts the story of the day on the beach, leading up to the death of the Arab. The magistrate listens intently and, after Meursault finishes, tells him that he has a special interest in the case and that he'll try to be of help. But first Meursault has to answer a few more questions. Like the lawyer, the magistrate brings up the issue of Meursault's mother. Did he love her? Meursault answers, "Yes, like everybody else."

Readers have commented on the presence of the clerk-typist who is recording the conversation between Meursault and the magistrate. When Meursault responds to the magistrate's question about his mother, the typist goes back and crosses something out. Meursault notes that the clerk probably hit the wrong keys, but most readers feel that he probably typed in Meursault's answer before Meursault said anything, an indication that Meursault's actual responses (in the eyes of society) were unexpected, or unconventional.

Why, the magistrate continues, did Meursault fire five consecutive shots into the body of the Arab? Meursault waits for a moment, then corrects the magistrate. No, he says, the shots weren't consecutive. After his first shot he paused. But why, the magistrate asks, did he pause? Meursault returns in his mind to the scene of that hot afternoon on the beach. But he doesn't answer the question. The magistrate again asks why: "I insist on your telling me." But Meursault says nothing.