During The Stranger, Meursault sometimes doesn't act very recognizably human. We've attributed this to various things-- dissociation, apathy, depression, sociopathy, a sense of superiority-- but my favorite explanation (as I've mentioned it several times in class) is Meursault as a sort of uncaring, mentally distant animal like a sunning lizard, or a fish staring blankly out of its tank in a populated waiting room. This comes up in a few places, namely during the funeral and on the beach with the Arabs, but most strikingly when he's sitting on his balcony in Chapter 2 for pretty much his entire Sunday. His balcony, this semi-public space where he can see and be seen but not interact, is his fishbowl. He alternates between people-watching and doing pointless things to pass the time, yet he's not waiting for anything. He has no responsibilities or work to do at this time (Something Uni students could never understand), and is content to just absorb the world around him, or be apart from it and look on; this description is what brings to mind a cat or lizard laying out in the sun, gazing at the world without focus. Meursault is a creature ruled by impulse, without an inner thought process telling him what to do.
As you may have noticed by now, this isn't coming to a point or a thesis. I just really like animal Meursault, and what that might say about neutrality or maybe his innocence later when he's being judged.
Notable animalian scenes on that casual Sunday:
"I cut out an advertisement for Kruschen Salts and stuck it in an old notebook where I put things from the papers that interest me" (21). Meursault just keeps a book of ...advertisements..? from old (not even recent or relevant) newspapers. He doesn't give a reason, just sticks it in the notebook, like a bird with its favorite strip of cellophane.
"I turned my chair and set it down like tobacconist's because I found that it was more comfortable that way" (22). Meursault see, Meursault do.
"I sat there for a long time and watched the sky" (22).
"One of [the soccer players] even yellled up to me, "We beat 'em!" And I nodded, as if to say "Yes" (22).
Ridiculous animal pictures aside, I'm sure there's some fascinating literary analysis waiting to be made about Meursault's attitude about the world in these scenes. For now, all I can do is draw mustaches on lizards.
This post made my day.
ReplyDeleteYou bring up a pretty good point. Meursault just kind of sits there for a whole day looking to the outside world. There is no climax or anything, just a neutral "meh" feeling about it. But I think by the end of the book, Meursault blooms into something else. He lets all of his feelings out in a fit of rage, and then accepts his fate and opens himself to the "gentle indifference" of the world around him.
Does he get more human?
DeleteYou and Ayat characterize Meursault accurately. His response to natural occurrences, is also a very animalistic reaction. The fact that he is content to perch op high and just watch is a very lizard like. Yet like Ayat, i think that as the book comes to a close there is a bit more substance to his character.
ReplyDeleteNice post! I love all your pictures because after looking at them I could totally see Meursault as a fish or a lizard. Throughout our class discussions we talked a lot about what causes Meursault's attitude of not caring about anything but we never really identified a reason because nothing seemed to be able to fit with all of his different actions. I think that the idea that Meursault is a lizard fits best with why he has the personality that he does.
ReplyDeleteI did read somewhere, re: Meursault's weird collecting of the Kruschen Salts ad (which he, with typical neutrality, simply says "interests him"), that this detail might in fact reflect something of a sense of humor in our protagonist. According to this critic, Kruschen Salts were popularly used as a laxative, and there were in fact a whole bunch of ads that hinted at this use in humorously euphemistic terms ("Dad arrives fresh and ready to meet the day at breakfast, having achieved comfort and ease thanks to Krushcen Salts!" and so forth). Kind of like a funny Ex-Lax or urinary incontinence ad? I'd always assumed Kruschen Salts were just, like, bath salts or epsom salts--and it's still a weird little detail about Meursault's private life (I'd love to have a look at that scrapbook, huh?). But it maybe also reflects a subtle and ironical sense of humor on his part, which is not so much in evidence elsewhere.
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