The Stranger Trial

The whole time when I was reading the novel, up to this point that is, I really dislike Meursault. I thought he was a crazy psychopath that didn't care one little bit about anyone. And then, I read the chapters on his trial. All of a sudden, it was like Camus was just completely manipulating my emotions. I wanted to defend the killer! The prosecutor had it all wrong! Meursault was not a conniving mastermind, just a guy who made some bad choices and was susceptible to heatstroke! But wait, hold on. In my mind I knew he was guilty, and that he deserved to be punished. That he had killed an innocent man for no reason at all. And yet, I was suddenly on his side. How scary is it, that the words of this author can suddenly make you pity a murderer? Can make you want him to get off? Is that normal? It certainly freaked me out. I much prefer having a fixed opinion and knowing exactly where people's personalities fit into my picture of them. But this just through me for a loop. It was not only Camus manipulating the trial to make Meursault appear as the victim, but it was like he really was the victim. Everyone was ganging up on the poor little man who had an accident, and judging him for it--life or death. One mistake, and he has to die because that's the way the justice system worked. Of course, it didn't help at all that he had no idea that he could lie or manipulate the events to make himself seem more innocent, in fact it never even crossed his mind (at least as far as the he as the narrator tells.) In this sense, he does give himself a bit of dignity. That may not be the way he saw it though, as he never made a conscious choice to do the honest thing. However, this contradicts my next point.

After Meursault kills the Arab man, he essentially gets a blast of humanity. It takes a while for him to come to realize it, but he is gradually getting more of an idea of what "normal" people feel. He feels sad that he ruined his day immediately, but doesn't yet feel guilty. However, after he fired the first shot the first active voice comes into play. "I shot him," he says. Later, in his trial, though he does not feel the human fear from the threat of death, or any human sense of self-preservation, he feels the need to cry because he realizes that everyone in the court room, even the defense lawyer, hates his guts. He feels real anger when he tries to throttle the chaplain, real fear when he shivers uncontrollably because he realizes he can't know when his appeal is, and real resignation from his impending death. (Five Stages of Grief seems appropriate here: denial, fear, anger, something else, acceptance, right? That, at least, if nothing else, is human!) He comes to realize that he actually enjoys life. Killing someone because of a temporary meltdown was the most human thing he did in the entire novel.

One could almost argue that in the trial, the fact that Meursault is able to conquer his innate self-preservation instincts and ultimately do the right thing by telling the truth does make him almost like a superior human in kind of a sick way. He gets away from his animal instincts. Though, of course, "more evolved" does not necessarily make him superior. I am just trying to present a case for him in which his neutral seemingly cold personality makes improves him. I guess Camus succeeded in his experiment to find out whether or not readers could feel sorry for murderers if he worded it in the right way. I want to try and get out of his little trap though, and not agree with this argument, because
no matter how the situation is abruptly turned around, Meursault did murder a man.

Coping or Psychotic?

When first perusing The Stranger by Albert Camus, my most immediate observation was that Monsieur Meursault did not comment or react to anything that he noticed in an emotional way. Does he not feel or are his feelings just not recorded in the text? Not only are any emotions absent, but even his comments to the other characters other slightly sadistic. He doesn't seem to feel anything at all. There has been not one mention of him laughing, and he seems to be almost rejoicing after his mother's funeral. At first I agreed with some of the people who in our class discussion thought that this was a coping mechanism for dealing with his mother's death. However, after looking at all the other examples I started to think that he really is incapable of feeling anything else. He flat out told Marie that he didn't love her when she asked, and implied that he didn't even think it mattered or cared about love. He didn't seem bothered by either the beating of Raymond's female acquaintance or Salamano's spaniel. However, in the same way that Jake attracted people to him, so does Meursault. People seem drawn to him, such as Marie and Raymond, even though he never engages with anyone, even a passing soccer team.  He seems not able to have an emotional connection with anyone, in a very psychopathic way.

The weird thing is, in light of recent events, his entire persona changed. He becomes angry for the first time, and was practically unprovoked. Was it just the heat? I know this whole time he has been complaining about the heat, and it seems to be the one thing that he actually has a strong opinion of. I'm going to be really interested to see how he cope with this, because this killing someone would seem more traumatizing than the death of his mother. He is going to have to actually face emotions fro the first time in the novel, (I presume, anyway, because eh can[t just say "hey whatever I don't care" when trying to cover up a murder or go to jail). it's going to be interesting got find out.

Grete and the Roach

      When Grete first was able to overcome the fear that her parent couldn't and actually accept Gregor for his new self: a giant cockroach, I had a lot of respect for her. Of course after reading only a few more lines this respect dwindled significantly. She acted remarkably immature, and treated her brother more like a scary pet than a part of the family. Once she stopped being fascinated with him, though, she really pulled herself together as a person: she went to school, got a job, started learning French: but at a cost, because Gregor was suffering for it. If I had to make a thesis for this blog entry, this would be it: Even when Gregor is completely dependent on his family as a cockroach, he is still the martyr. He has to suffer as a starving, claustrophobic injured cockroach, and as a result his family picks themselves up onto their feet and starts functioning again. This must be so frustrating for him, because the whole I'm going to subconsciously turn myself into an insect to break free of the hold my family has on me bit ended up with him still sacrificing his life and freedom for the well-being of his family, even if he didn't purposefully do it. This is just so ironic to me, and at the same time really heart-breaking, because he really can't stop being the sweet eager guy that gives up everything.

      Were Gregor to accept that his family didn't really need him this whole time he had been working for him, the might have been able to move on, but he insistently recalls moments when he was most proud of himself, the glory days, in an almost Clarissa Dalloway-like fashion. He loves to think about how he was going to send Grete to the conservatory, and how his parents were so appreciative (not really) of his hard work. But really, while this was going on he was always wishing it would stop. He didn't like his job and had plans for quitting in the future. Or, was this just what he portrayed to the reader? Was he really savoring every minute of being a slave to his parents' debt? I think this is sort of ambiguous, and I'm having a hard time deciding for myself what I think he's thinking. Because he ended up in the same parents-dependent-on-his-situation position that he was in before but now unable to communicate or be human at all, I think he really is longing for the days of his bad job and parents who sit around the house.

Gregor's Guilt

You know, personally, if I had woken up and found myself turned into a monstrous vermin, I really doubt I would share Gregor's feelings on the subject. If it were me, a lot of screaming would ensue, followed by a desperate attempt to wake myself up from the nightmare. (Not that I know exactly what I'd do, this never having happened-just to clarify this is only a prediction.) But this guy must be the least self-absorbed character I have ever read about. He feels guilty. And for not just one, but two reasons. First of all he feels bad for causing Halloween to come to life in his house and scaring his poor family nearly to death. Second, he's worried about what they'll do without the money that he brings in from that lovely fabric-salesman job that he so loves (not). He doesn't want them to have to move because they can't pay the rent, or his fat father or asthmatic mother or seventeen year old sister to have to start working. He also doesn't want his sister who has lovingly been taking care of him while trying not to throw up to have to give her spot at the Conservatory and have to stop playing violin and wearing pretty dresses. This is rather a lot for one guy to have on his plate sue to a transformation that, as far as we know, was in no way his fault. But that doesn't stop him from wishing that he could still work his horrific job and work off a debt that isn't his for the people he loves.

So this guy is obviously sweet, but at the same time sort of pathetic in my eyes. There is just something about his eagerness to work (in an almost loyal Golden Retriever sort of way) that just makes him seem like this overexcited little boy. He just wants to work! Please mister manager, just let him work for you! Then, if you add on top of that his endearing stunt while trying to open the door, and then getting beaten by his father while innocently trying to maneuver his cumbersome abdomen, he becomes the guy you root for. A little pathetic, but lovable even though he's a giant cockroach. Go figure.

The confusing End and the characters involved

        I found the end to The Sun Also Rises very frustrating. After reading some 250 pages, it would have been nice to actually get somewhere. But no. Jake and Brett have come full circle in their relationship. Actually, it is amazing that they managed to succeed in even that, considering the dynamical path that each Brett and Jake follow. Throughout the novel, it seemed to me like they were always on the edge of falling into a passionate relationship. And, over and over again, they were thwarted. I think that the underlying cause for their separation is not the impossibility of a physical connection, but more edging towards Jake's insecurity about his injury. He says himself that he doesn't think he would be able to please her (it's like he needs to know he's making her happy to be happy himself), and both agree that a relationship would not be possible; they've tried, it failed. They are continually thrown together, though, and rely on each other for emotional support which they are unable to do with any other character (this is about Brett especially, because there is one point where Jake is able to tell Bill about his feelings for Brett). The deep friendship that they have is closer to the emotional relationship of people in love than mere friends, but they are always tottering on the edge.They need to walk away. Neither is ready to commit, and the half-hearted relationship they have now is only hurting them both. Jake is constantly on the edge of his seat, ready to go and rescue "his lady love" (as he scoffingly and hypocritically accuses Cohn of doing--hmm...I spot some personal reflection issues...). He gives up his peaceful vacation at a telegram from Brett, sounding like an emergency but really she could have been happy in that situation for at least another week. Nor fair to him. She, meanwhile, is off having this and that affair with various men, all the while being married, engaged, and in love (each with different men). She feels the need to compensate for his lack of physical commitment and her need to be loved and told that she is beautiful. Not fair to either of them. I just wanted to shake Brett and tell her to wake up and smell the bourbon (not that she doesn't already). She knows shes beautiful, because she is told so often, and she knows that she has a man in her reach that loves her. If she doesn't think it'll ever work between them, she needs to let go of Jake for his sake.

          Continuing on off of the vastly ranging opinions we got in class today, I think I fall somewhere in the middle. I certainly don't consider the ending of this novel an "aww" moment, because they never got anywhere in terms of deciding whether to be with each other or not. I also do not hate Brett and Jake as some others do. I think that Brett is generally fun to have around and she would liven up a party, but I do not respect her at all. I think that Brett must have been an only child, because Brett is pretty much all about Brett. She lives in her own little world, as "fun" people often do, and situates her actions to best fit her needs. For example, when she calls upon Jake to come and save her she never even gives him a "thank you" or acknowledges that it might have been an imposition for him. She expects him to come and would have been put out if he hadn't. This makes me mad at her on his behalf, and also because I know a few people like this who are fun to be around sometimes except when they feel that they are in need, and expect you to be there no matter what. It just makes me mad. Especially when they get humored. Jake, however, stand-up guy that he is, (ironically because he never stands up himself,) I don't respect either. Like her nefarious behavior he too makes actions that hurt them both. She needs to learn that he can't always come, particularly if they are not involved with one another, and he should realize that it's not good for either of them.

      Now I just feel like a big nag repeating myself over and over again, but it's not like they got the message at the end of the novel anyway. Frustrating.