A look into Meursault's psyche
Within the span of The Stranger, Meursault commits murder; provides a false statement to the police; helps Raymond abuse his mistress and have relations with her as a product of deceit; and gets drunk and involved with a girl less than twenty-four hours after his mother's funeral, among other things. In today's world, any one person who committed all these actions would be shunned by society and all but canceled. However, in The Stranger, Camus analyzes right versus wrong, good versus evil, and what it means to be subject to society's expectations when you don't fit in. Camus concludes that thanks to Meursault's supposed amorality, he is neither a bad nor a good person. He is just a person who does things.
In The Stranger, Meursault goes through all these actions without looking back. He says this himself: "I had never been able to truly feel remorse for anything. My mind was always on what was coming next, today or tomorrow" (Camus 100). He doesn't see a reason to feel remorse for anything. He goes along with what others tell him to do -- such as providing a false statement to the police testifying that Raymond's mistress was cheating on him to help Raymond get away with physically abusing her -- without moral qualms.
He never stops to think about the societal consequences or what might happen. In fact, he is already very separated from the general society: he derives joy from people-watching from his balcony, observing others go about their daily lives in happiness while he collects newspaper clippings (Camus 21). When his mother dies, he refuses to reflect on her death and instead chooses to judge the elders surrounding him during her funeral. He heads home the next day and proceeds to watch comedy movies with his ex-colleague.
Meursault openly states that he has no regrets regarding his murder of the Arab (Camus 100). He doesn't see why he should. He notices the prosecution discussing his intelligence, the way they seem to think he had a very well-concealed motive, and he doesn't understand why a supposedly "good" quality like intelligence becomes a "crushing accusation" against someone on trial for murder (Camus 100). He tries explaining the purported motive behind his killing of the Arab -- the sun shining in his eyes -- and it goes just about as well as he expects it to. Meursault feels misunderstood in a world too focused on goodness and man-made creations like marriage and promotions and societally accepted conventions for what one is to do the day after their mother's funeral.
He doesn't see why any of this would be considered morally wrong, because he doesn't have a conception of right or wrong. To him, he is a person moving through the earth without any purpose or state of being. When he realizes that he's facing the death penalty, he dwells on it for a good day or two before coming to the conclusion that he would've died anyway and it really doesn't matter if he dies now or later, of old age or of capital punishment. Meursault says on page 114, "Deep down I knew perfectly well that it doesn't much matter whether you die at thirty or at seventy ... In fact, nothing could be clearer. Whether it was now or twenty years from now, I would still be the one dying" (Camus 114).
Late in the novel, Meursault comments, "But everybody knows life isn't worth living" (Camus 114). For someone navigating life without as much as a moral compass, I understand why he might feel so. He has never once outright refused the demands of another person. Marie wants to get married? Sure; Meursault doesn't really love her, but why not? Meursault's boss wants to switch him over to Paris? He doesn't particularly want to advance his career, but if he has to, he might as well. Why not?
Meursault experiences emotions at face value. He's annoyed that he has to take work off to go to his mom's funeral; he feels uncomfortable in his cell, but he later accepts his living conditions; the sun bothers him to the point that he feels inclined to shoot the person in front of him; he feels happy watching the sun rise in his jail cell. To Meursault, life is very one-sided. He doesn't see the point in being bothered about the little things when they don't, in reality, matter.
It is our nature to want to humanize Meursault's actions and characteristics under a rose-colored interrogation lamp. I, too, like the judge in Meursault's decidedly unfair trial, wanted to deliberate the extent of his amorality. However, if Meursault doesn't have morals at all -- if he doesn't do things for the sake of being good or bad or making the right or wrong decisions -- his personhood can't be defined as such. He can't be tried in a court of law based on principles he simply doesn't follow. In that way, is the judge right? Knowing Meursault is a wild card, without any moral qualms or rules, is he a threat to society? He never had a motive; he just didn't know it was wrong. Does that make him dangerous?
In The Stranger, Meursault goes through all these actions without looking back. He says this himself: "I had never been able to truly feel remorse for anything. My mind was always on what was coming next, today or tomorrow" (Camus 100). He doesn't see a reason to feel remorse for anything. He goes along with what others tell him to do -- such as providing a false statement to the police testifying that Raymond's mistress was cheating on him to help Raymond get away with physically abusing her -- without moral qualms.
He never stops to think about the societal consequences or what might happen. In fact, he is already very separated from the general society: he derives joy from people-watching from his balcony, observing others go about their daily lives in happiness while he collects newspaper clippings (Camus 21). When his mother dies, he refuses to reflect on her death and instead chooses to judge the elders surrounding him during her funeral. He heads home the next day and proceeds to watch comedy movies with his ex-colleague.
Meursault openly states that he has no regrets regarding his murder of the Arab (Camus 100). He doesn't see why he should. He notices the prosecution discussing his intelligence, the way they seem to think he had a very well-concealed motive, and he doesn't understand why a supposedly "good" quality like intelligence becomes a "crushing accusation" against someone on trial for murder (Camus 100). He tries explaining the purported motive behind his killing of the Arab -- the sun shining in his eyes -- and it goes just about as well as he expects it to. Meursault feels misunderstood in a world too focused on goodness and man-made creations like marriage and promotions and societally accepted conventions for what one is to do the day after their mother's funeral.
He doesn't see why any of this would be considered morally wrong, because he doesn't have a conception of right or wrong. To him, he is a person moving through the earth without any purpose or state of being. When he realizes that he's facing the death penalty, he dwells on it for a good day or two before coming to the conclusion that he would've died anyway and it really doesn't matter if he dies now or later, of old age or of capital punishment. Meursault says on page 114, "Deep down I knew perfectly well that it doesn't much matter whether you die at thirty or at seventy ... In fact, nothing could be clearer. Whether it was now or twenty years from now, I would still be the one dying" (Camus 114).
Late in the novel, Meursault comments, "But everybody knows life isn't worth living" (Camus 114). For someone navigating life without as much as a moral compass, I understand why he might feel so. He has never once outright refused the demands of another person. Marie wants to get married? Sure; Meursault doesn't really love her, but why not? Meursault's boss wants to switch him over to Paris? He doesn't particularly want to advance his career, but if he has to, he might as well. Why not?
Meursault experiences emotions at face value. He's annoyed that he has to take work off to go to his mom's funeral; he feels uncomfortable in his cell, but he later accepts his living conditions; the sun bothers him to the point that he feels inclined to shoot the person in front of him; he feels happy watching the sun rise in his jail cell. To Meursault, life is very one-sided. He doesn't see the point in being bothered about the little things when they don't, in reality, matter.
It is our nature to want to humanize Meursault's actions and characteristics under a rose-colored interrogation lamp. I, too, like the judge in Meursault's decidedly unfair trial, wanted to deliberate the extent of his amorality. However, if Meursault doesn't have morals at all -- if he doesn't do things for the sake of being good or bad or making the right or wrong decisions -- his personhood can't be defined as such. He can't be tried in a court of law based on principles he simply doesn't follow. In that way, is the judge right? Knowing Meursault is a wild card, without any moral qualms or rules, is he a threat to society? He never had a motive; he just didn't know it was wrong. Does that make him dangerous?
You put it well that he doesn't abide by the "normal" principles of society. His reactions to all of the wild things that happen over the course of this book are quite jarring. Good job depicting Meursault's indifference.
ReplyDeleteIt's really interesting that you depict Meursault himself as "judging" the behavior of the others at Maman's funeral, especially as he himself "always feels a little guilty" and repeatedly feels "judged" by the others. (He depicts the older folks at the vigil as looking at him like the new guy who gets on the bus and everyone stares at him to figure out what's wrong with him--kind of like a jury!) But I see what you mean--he all but states that Perez's tears are meaningless and absurd when he focuses on the weird visual effect of the water moving through the wrinkles on his face, rather than understanding them as an expression of grief. Does that amount to "judging" Perez, though? I'm not 100% sure. He seems perplexed, and he has no apparent desire to weep himself, but is he saying that it's inappropriate or strange for Perez to cry?
ReplyDeleteThis is all very interesting to contemplate once he's in court, and he's being scrutinized for these very actions and perceptions. As you note, the court isn't exactly a reliable judge of his behavior, and we don't trust their assessment of Meursault--but this doesn't necessarily mean that WE have to find him innocent, or unproblematic, even if the court's "official perspective" misses so much.
To your final question posed in this blog, I say it is Meursault's blatant difference in perspective on the world that makes him "dangerous" to others. It is the fact that everyone else thinks a certain way, and he doesn't that makes him a threat, and not necessarily the nature of his thinking. Perhaps in a world filled with likeminded Meursault-thinking people, he would be considered as harmless as the next person. Really interesting blog!
ReplyDeleteGreat post Simrah! I believe Meursault's "wild card" nature and blatant indifference to murder is the true threat to society. Nothing about the murder was predictable if we consider Meursault's perspective; he simply ended up blinded by the reflected light in front of the Arab on the beach with a gun in his hand, and then he shot the Arab five times in total. This unmotivated murder is why Meursault is a a threat to society; he does not have a motive, is incapable of remorse, and kills on a whim. Anyone could be his next murder victim; his unpredictability is dangerous and intimidating.
ReplyDeleteThis was a nice dive into Meursault's psyche. I agree with your point on Meursault having zero real sense of right and wrong, and it doesn't really seem that Meursault cares to think about the consequences of his actions. Nice blog post!
ReplyDeleteGood job of exploring Meursault's detachment from societal norms and moral structure that guides others. This really captures Camus' exploration of amorality and forces readers to grapple with tension between society expectations and individual differences.
ReplyDeleteGreat post! I find it interesting that you found that Meursault was unwittingly committing the acts in this novel: I would argue that in some cases, yes, his actions are determined by what others tell him to do, but I believed that he too was capable of recognizing societal rights versus wrongs. In the trial, his defense was not exactly that he didn't understand the weight of what he had committed, as there is no confusion in his mind around why he is on trial, but it is indeed disturbing how serious an effect trivial things such as the sun seem to have on his mind. Perhaps not his lack of understanding, but his volatility is his troubling characteristic. Awesome topic!
ReplyDeleteVery interesting blog post Simrah! You make some very good points, I think Meursault's lack of humanity means that he isn't an actual danger to society. He is so focused in the present that he probably won't be planning on doing mischievous activies anytime soon.
ReplyDeleteI find it interesting that you contemplate whether Meursault and his lack of awareness of morality can be defined as being "inmoral" when the character himself seems to lack regard for morality and its existance, and whether or not this implies that Meursault is truly dangerous to society; Meursault has no regrets about the morally wrong things that he does, which implicates him as guilty in the eyes of society, but does he have truly any desire for moral wrongdoing? Overall, great blog post!
ReplyDeleteYour analysis does a fantastic job of capturing Meursault’s detachment and his existential outlook on life. I especially like how you connected his lack of morals to the broader societal judgment he faces, framing him as someone who operates outside the constructs of right and wrong entirely. It raises an intriguing question about whether society can or should judge someone who doesn’t play by its rules. Camus’s absurdism shines through in your view of Meursault’s indifference to life’s meaning. Great post!
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