The Outsider is the stunning story of the life and guiding principles of its main character, Meursault. Through his reaction to his mother’s death and the following year, we learn about a man whose view of the world is not shared by society, and so who is persecuted by that world. The story is written in an oddly direct manner reminiscent of Meursault’s own philosophies, and although it makes it a tougher read, it adds massively to the poignancy of the final chapter.
Meursault is a single man, living alone in an apartment on the outskirts of Algiers. We are first introduced to him the day he finds out his mother has died in the care home he paid for her to live in. In his characteristically simple style, Camus tells us of Meursault’s trip to the care home to visit his mother’s resting-place, and take part in the funeral. What is notable about this section of the story is Meursault’s reaction to what has happened. He never really speaks about his emotions much; rather his thoughts, reactions and observations about the surroundings fill the narration that makes up the bulk of the novel. Once he returns from the funeral he gets on with his life, and even meets a girl, Marie, with whom he starts a relationship. It is his observations that eventually lead him into trouble, as he befriends a man most people regard as a pimp. Meursault does not listen to most people, however, and only judges him on what he says and does to Meursault himself. The plainspoken narration lends weight to the logic of this reaction, and we are encouraged to see why Meursault has reacted this way. His relationship with Raymond, the accused pimp, is an interesting one.
Meursault helps Raymond out because he sees no reason not to, and because what he is asked to do seems fair and reasonable. It is all incredibly rational and, one would think, ’’right’’ in a court of law. Meursault agrees with Raymond that an ex-mistress of his has acted unfairly towards him, and agrees to help him gain retribution. This retribution involves luring the girl back to Raymond, who would have sex with her (as he still wanted to - damn those women!) but stop before she came as punishment for her leaving him. This all went to plan, but when Raymond stopped the girl got angry and attacked him. He hit back, and so was arrested and ostracised further from the community. Meursault saw what had happened as unfair, however, and so vouched for Raymond’s character to the police. As his relationship with Marie continued to grow, Raymond invited them to spend the weekend at a holiday home on the coast with him. Meursault was only too happy to spend time with his new friend, but trouble appeared instantly as they noticed a group of Arabs, the relatives of the jilted ex-mistress, watching them cautiously. They got to the house without any problems, however, and went for a walk on the beach. When only the men remained, two of the Arabs, including the girl’s brother, caught up with them and picked a fight. Although they won, the men were left angry and injured, and went back to the house to recuperate. When Meursault and Raymond went out again, they found, by accident, the Arabs sunbathing. Raymond wanted to shoot the brother, who had earlier knifed him, but Meursault made a rational argument, took Raymond’s gun, and instead they left peacefully. Meursault was shaken up by all of this, and instead of returning to the house with all the others, continued to wander by himself. The sun was distracting him, and as is often the case on very hot days, his thoughts were muddled. When he came across the Arab again, he provoked Meursault, the inevitable result being the Arab getting shot. Meursault had never wanted to kill the man, but as the world continued to move without any consultation with Meursault, this did not matter.
So far I have not spoilt any part of the plot not covered on the back of the book. To make sure I do not give too much away, I will stick to a basic summary of the second half of the novel. Meursault is, of course, incarcerated, and the rest of the novel is a very honest but not exaggerated self-examination that Meursault conducts for the months he is imprisoned. The system’s reaction to him as a ’’cold blooded murderer’’, but more importantly as a man who did not cry at his mother’s funeral, highlights the insanity of our society Camus wanted to illustrate. The book is odd in that, unlike most current novels, the plot is not a central theme.
It is not non-fiction, but the actual plot is spelt out very early on, the real thrust of the novel is an attempt at allowing the character of Meursault to express his belief system and to show how the dominant societal beliefs crush all others in the search for stability. It is easy to fall into the trap, whilst reading this novel, of believing Meursault to be a man of no emotion, no passion. But it is so frighteningly untrue. The climax of the novel, where he finally snaps and screams the crux of his belief system to a petrified priest, is so raw and passionate I was left shaken simply reading it. Meursault will not lie. It is a simple yet profound base on which to live a life, and one surely that should be embraced by all. But it is not, because we are too afraid of the truth, too drawn to hyperbole and therefore conformity.
Camus’ own Afterword explains this point to us clearly - lying is not just saying something that is clearly made up or false, it is stating a degree of emotion which is simply untrue. Meursault tells the judge that his crime irritated him, which it did, but stopped short of saying he regretted it because that simply was not true. It seems his own lack of desire to explain and justify himself condemned him as much as anything else, because I could easily explain away that opinion as being perfectly reasonable. He clearly was annoyed that he committed the crime, it wasn’t something he planned or did for any personal gain. So he is irritated by the fact that he committed it. But regret is simply too strong to express what he did. It’s done, it’s over, and he wanted to carry on living his life, but was never given that chance. More widely, ’’love’’ is the most over-used word in the world. Teenagers end their first date by telling each other that they ’’love’’ them. People end letters with ’’all my love’’, cards are signed ’’love’’, whenever people part they say ’’love’’, love is marketed and sold to the masses. Love is a deep and profound thing, and Meursault will not tell Marie he loves her because he simply is not sure it is true. To her credit, she did not expect it of him, and asked him to marry her anyway, but the majority within our society expected it. Where is it stated that you must love someone, and declare that love openly when you hardly know them? He told Marie the truth, that he didn’t really know if he loved her or not, and although she respected him for being honest, others could not believe or accept it. Imagine what would happen if everyone were completely honest?
Meursault is a threat to society because he tells the truth, and we can’t handle that as a rule. On a simple level, think of knocking into someone. You could then turn to them and tell them you didn’t intend to do that. In my case, at least, that would be entirely true, and I imagine it is how Meursault would react. Or you could tell them you were sorry, which is a different matter. Are you really sorry? Have you taken the time to think through what they feel?