No Remorse: People, Society and Institutions Humanities 01 Section 6, “No Remorse”
Neal Pisenti Professor McKinney December 14th, 2007
Pisenti 1 I. Introduction This year, our class explored the theme, “No Remorse.” Through novels on topics as disparate as the Rwandan Genocide and murder in French Algeria, we came across characters from all walks of life who share a common trait, namely, a failure to experience remorse for their actions. I begin my study of this theme with an examination of an individual instance remorselessness in the memoir The Glass Castle. This study continues in my essay on A Clockwork Orange as I explore what happens when society is the remorseless entity. Finally, I examine the consequences of living in a culture where the overarching social institution of religion exhibits characteristics of remorselessness. In these essays, I attempt to discover the effects of “no remorse” on the individual and on society, thereby investigating how humanity copes when faced with the unregretful. The first essay, entitled “The Glass Castle: An Analysis of Parental Responsibility,” is about Jeannette Walls’ less than typical upbringing in a household where the parents remorselessly fail to exhibit appropriate responsibility in caring for their children. Despite her best efforts to get them to work, Jeannette’s mother and father would prefer to live in squalor than provide for their family. As a result, Jeannette and her siblings are forced quite early in life to assume the responsibilities neglected by their parents. Managing bills, working to put food on the table, and maintaining the upkeep of the house are just a few of the responsibilities thrust on Jeannette. In my essay, I argue that there is a reversal of roles in the family. As Jeannette matures, her parents sink into immaturity, but the ultimate result is that each person ends up with a life they enjoy.
Pisenti 2 The second essay, “Choice in Burgess’ A Clockwork Orange,” discusses freedom of choice in one’s life and what a loss of choice means for our humanity. In A Clockwork Orange, the main character Alex and his gang of droogs go on repeated rampages of violence throughout the town. In an effort to curb this gang violence, the government decides to test a new treatment on Alex which would remove his ability to choose to be violent. I argue that this loss of choice is tantamount to a loss of humanity, and that our ability to decide between good and evil is the defining characteristic of what it means to be human. The last essay is a research paper on Christianity in Camus’ The Stranger. Entitled “Meursault: The Second Coming,” this paper explores how religion has become corrupted and perverted in the novel. The main character Meursault lives his life immersed in the present without much concern for the future, but a chain of absurd events leads him to a beach in French Algeria where he shoots an Arab man. Being a member of the privileged white class, Meursault could have easily gotten away with his crime. However, he is convicted and sentenced to death more on the grounds that he did not cry at his mother’s funeral than for his actual crime. On the eve of his execution, he stands by his beliefs and adamantly refuses to accept Jesus Christ or any hope for life after death. In this act, he likens himself to Christ in that he is crucified for his beliefs. I argue that his death exposes the flaws in religion as portrayed in The Stranger. When I look back at my first essay, I can see many areas where I have since improved. The first thesis I wrote was terribly simplistic, and only with repeated revision was I able to get it into its current state. My second and third papers, however, show a
Pisenti 3 progression in the complexity of the ideas that frame their argumentation. I have also improved the way I structure and organize my paragraphs to better argue my point. Humanities one, aside from providing a good opportunity to improve my writing, has also provided a forum for the discussion of ideas and the appreciation of literature. The novels and books we read were very thought provoking, and I thoroughly enjoyed the conversations we had in class. On the whole, Humanities one was a very positive experience in my first semester at Harvey Mudd College.
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II. The Glass Castle: An Analysis of Parental Responsibility Jeannette Walls, in her memoir The Glass Castle, traces her life from early childhood into adulthood with a less than typical family and eccentric parents. Her father, Rex Walls, is a confident ne’er-do-well who cannot hold a job, and her mother, Rose Mary, would rather paint than care for her children. As the memoir progresses, the roles of “parent” and “child” become reversed in the Walls household, ultimately allowing both the parents and the children to lead lives they can be happy with. As a young child, Jeannette Walls shows deference to her parents’ authority and follows their leadership through the events of her life. The book begins with Jeannette’s earliest memory, making hot dogs at age three. Unsupervised by her parents, she catches fire and is rushed to the hospital where the doctors insist that “[she] was lucky to be alive” (10). Unalarmed by this assessment, Jeannette claims, “‘Mom says I’m mature for my age…and she lets me cook for myself a lot’” (11). The nurse then writes something on her clipboard, causing Jeannette to ask what is wrong. The act of asking if there is a problem demonstrates Jeannette’s ignorance of her mother’s irresponsibility. Instead, she assumes undoubtedly that her mother knows what is best for her children when obviously it was her negligence that led to Jeannette’s injury. Another example of Jeannette’s deference to her parents’ leadership occurs when her dad tries to check her out of the hospital “Rex Walls style,” i.e. without permission or paying (14). Uncertain at first, she says, “‘Are you sure this is okay?’” but her dad tells her to trust him and proceeds to unhook Jeannette’s arm from its sling and run her out of the hospital past the nurses’ calls
Pisenti 5 to stop (14). Jeannette does not think to fundamentally question or challenge whether her father is doing the right thing for her health, because at this age she trusts his judgment and follows his leadership. There is a clear parent-child division in their relationship as Jeannette acts the perfect, unquestioning child and her father plays the role of parental leader. Her respect for Rex and Rose Mary’s authority clearly shows where the role of “parent” lies in the Walls family. As Jeannette gets older, the roles begin to reverse as the burden of responsibility shifts from parent to child. After moving to the town of Welch, West Virginia, basic survival defaults to Jeannette and her siblings. For example, Jeannette recounts one winter when “Dad wasn’t around to chop and split any [wood], which meant it was up to us kids to gather dead branches and logs from the forest” (175). The family needs to stay warm to survive, yet Rex and Rose Mary’s lack of initiative causes this responsibility to shift to their children. As a result, Jeannette ends up playing the mature adult in caring for her family’s survival. She also assumes responsibility for the upkeep of their house, and even says directly that, “since [our parents] never repaired it, we kids tried patching the roof on our own with tar paper, tin foil, wood, and Elmer’s glue” (153). Although these implements are distinctly childlike in nature, it is clear that Jeannette and her siblings are trying, to the best of their abilities, to take on the responsibilities thrown off by their parents. The roles of parent and child are already beginning to reverse as Jeannette assumes more responsibility. This increase in responsibility leads Jeannette to start doubting her parents’ leadership and lose faith in her parents as people of responsibility and moral fiber. For
Pisenti 6 example, Jeannette comes home from school one day to find that money has been stolen from her and her sister’s piggy bank. She says, “I knew it was Dad, but at the same time, I couldn’t believe he’d stoop this low” (228). Her incredulity shows that she used to believe in the her father’s integrity, but her certainty that he was the one who stole the money indicates that she now is able to see past the smoke and mirrors of her father’s fickle honesty. Another example demonstrating Jeannette’s lost faith in her father occurs in Welch when her dad tries to borrow money she has budgeted for food and bills. He says, “‘Don’t worry about food and bills…Have I ever let you down?’” (210). Jeannette then thinks to herself, “I’d heard that question at least two hundred times, and I’d always answered it the way I knew he wanted me to…[but] I was about to tell him the truth for the first time, about to let him know that he’d let us all down plenty” (210). At this point in the novel, Jeannette has stopped fooling herself and no longer believes in her father or the infallibility of his leadership. She realizes that Rex has let her down and failed her as a parent, and no longer views him as a responsible adult. Jeannette is forced to assume the de facto role of parent as she realizes the fundamental lack of leadership in Rex and Rose Mary’s actions. Jeannette’s maturity increases as she assumes more of a parental role in family life, further developing the picture of Jeannette as the adult and her parents as the children. A crowning event in her path towards adult-like maturity comes when Rose Mary, shirking responsibility as a parent, decides to take art classes at a university in Charleston. This leaves Jeannette, “at thirteen, the head of the household” (209). For the first time, Jeannette has taken on the official title, “head of the house,” which evokes the
Pisenti 7 image of a responsible parent. This image is reinforced when her father asks her to borrow some money and she replies, “‘I’ve got bills piling up…I’ve got kids to feed’” (210). The fact that her father must come to her to get money, much as a child would, shows how the function of “parent” has landed on Jeannette’s shoulders. Additionally, her rationale for not wanting to lend her father money is distinctly parental in nature; she has the responsibility to pay bills and feed “the kids” who are not even hers. Clearly, the duty of the parent is picked up by Jeannette as her actual parents avoid responsibility in their progression towards a childish nature. The reversal in the roles of “parent” and “child” eventually becomes complete when the family moves piecemeal to New York. After completing high school, Jeannette leaves Welch to join her sister, Lori, in the city. Her brother Brian soon follows, after which Jeannette and her siblings send for Maureen, the youngest of the Walls children, to come live with them as well. Jeanette describes how, “using [Brian’s] address, we enrolled Maureen in a good public school in Manhattan” (251). At this point, they are completely self-sufficient and even have enough foresight to enroll Maureen in a good school, displaying the adult-like maturity absent in Jeannette’s parents. Eventually, her parents decide to move to New York too in order to be a family again. However, Rex and Rose Mary soon fall behind on rent and get kicked out of apartment after apartment. Feeling sorry for them, Lori lets them stay with her and Maureen. There is now a complete reversal in roles and responsibility; the children pay for the rent and food while the parents live off of their children’s income. Ultimately, Lori becomes fed up with her parents’ lack of cleanliness and respect for her rules, and at Jeannette’s urging she kicks
Pisenti 8 them out of her apartment. Much like a parent who has grown tired of providing for her twenty-five year old college graduate, Lori forces her parents out of her house and urges them to provide for themselves. Rex and Rose Mary, however, decide to be homeless. This new status quo meets the needs of both Jeannette and her parents, allowing everyone to be happy leading the life they choose. Jeannette describes how she and her siblings felt unburdened upon moving to New York and taking charge of their lives, to the point where they sit around at dinner, “laughing so hard at the idea of all that craziness [in Welch] that [their] eyes water” (251). The fact that they can genuinely laugh at their past misery indicates that they are finally enjoying life enough to look lightly on previous suffering. Similarly, her parents seem happy with their life on the street. Jeannette offers several times to help them, yet each time they refuse, saying they are fine with their situation in life. At the end of the memoir, Jeannette comes to terms with the fact that her parents are living the life they want to lead, free of responsibility, and realizes that they have “finally found the place where they belong” (268). Although unorthodox in the reversed roles they assume, both Jeannette and her parents find their respective places in life. Through this reversal of roles, Jeannette and her parents eventually find the lifestyles that makes them happiest. Rex and Rose Mary were never equipped to handle the responsibility of having children, and at the end of the memoir they can finally live a carefree life free of the burden of responsibility. Throughout their childhood, Jeannette and her siblings yearned for a steady source of food and roof over their head. Ultimately, they fulfill this yearning by discovering the responsibility so conspicuously absent from
Pisenti 9 their upbringing. In the end, everyone ends up happy because they find the lifestyle to which they belong.
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III. Choice in Burgess’ A Clockwork Orange Anthony Burgess, in his novel A Clockwork Orange, plunges into a world of crime, rape, and destruction as he follows the path of Alex, a teenager caught up in the romanticism of “ultra-violence.” In an attempt to curb violent crime, the government has created a reverse-pavlovian treatment that will “cure” people of their violent tendencies, and the state tells Alex he can either spend many years in jail or undergo this treatment. Choosing the latter, Alex is “cured,” but loses the freedom to decide how to live his life. Alex and other characters in the novel demonstrate aspects of both culture and “ultraviolence,” advancing the idea that the freedom to decide between the good and bad in oneself is the defining characteristic of our humanity. Throughout the novel, Alex presents conflicting perspectives of his character, showing himself at some moments to be cultured while at other times to be brutish and cruel. The story begins with a series of ultra-violent scenes, setting the tone for an interpretation of Alex’s character. Within the first few pages, Alex and his droogs find an old man carrying books under his arm. They begin to harass him, stomping on his dentures and “pull[ing] his outer platties off, stripping him down to his vest and long underpants and then…kick[ing] him lovely in his pot” (10). This scene demonstrates Alex’s wanton violence, as the man did nothing to offend anyone, yet he is still assaulted, stripped of his clothes, and badly beaten. Another example demonstrating Alex’s violent nature occurs when he and his gang break into a writer’s house in the country. After completely wrecking the writer’s living room and destroying the manuscript he was
Pisenti 11 working on, they beat him and tie him up, forcing him to watch as they rape his wife. Alex says, Plunging, I could slooshy cries of agony and this writer bleeding veck that Georgie and Pete held on to nearly got loose howling bezoomny with the filthiest of slovos…[we then left, but] the writer veck and his zheena were not really there, bloody and torn and making noises. But they’d live.
(22)
This scene is graphic and extremely violent, demonstrating Alex’s full capacity for savagery and destruction. It is later revealed that the woman they raped died of shock, completing the picture of brutality and cruelty Alex inflicts on others. The portrayal of these ultra-violent images characterizes Alex as almost sub-human in the way he treats his fellow human beings. This cruelty is contrasted with other moments in the novel when Alex’s violence is blended with culture. When speaking, Alex occasionally drops the slang he uses in favor of a more proper mode of speech. For example, in the scene where he and his droogs beat up Billyboy, he says, “‘Well, if it isn’t fat stinking billygoat Billyboy…How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chipoil?’” (16). The diction in this quote is reminiscent of Shakespeare, utilizing “art thou” instead of the more common “are you.” Even the insult is vaguely Shakespearian in its seemingly nonsensical nature. Because it would be uncommon for an ordinary person to use such formal speech, this immediately conjures an image of culture and education, yet it is strikingly at odds with the violent act about to be committed. Instead of possessing a purely evil personality, there is a
Pisenti 12 blending of Alex’s violent nature with images of culture to create a more complex character. The novel furthers this hybrid characterization with the motif of classical music. After that first night of rape and destruction, Alex and his droogs go back to a bar and are listening to an opera singer perform Gitterfenster’s “Das Bettzeug.” Dim, one of Alex’s gang members, makes a rude comment about the music. Alex then punches Dim, “‘for being a bastard with no manners and not the nook of an idea how to comport [him]self publicwise’” (25). From this statement, it is clear that Alex has a sense of “manners” and how to behave in public, conveying a sense of propriety in society. However, his aggressive response to Dim’s comment blends his proper and violent aspects. Another indication of Alex’s culture can be seen in his preference for classical music. Alex listens to masters such as “Ludwig van” instead of “The Heaven Seventeen,” “Luke Sterne,” or other pop-hits for his age group (37). This choice of music conveys a sense of culture and refinement one would not expect from someone demonstrably steeped in violence. However, the novel blurs the line between this cultured music and violence in the way Beethoven’s 9th is associated with the horrific Nazi movies in Alex’s treatment. Not only is Alex’s character a mix of violence and culture, but music, his defining motif, also exhibits these same characteristics. Once again, culture and violence are blended in A Clockwork Orange, making it hard for the reader to determine which of the two contrasting traits is dominant. These two opposite aspects of Alex’s character create the idea that he contains both the capacity to see good and to commit evil. The last movement of Beethoven’s 9th
Pisenti 13 Symphony, the famous “Ode to Joy” chorus, is repeatedly referenced in the novel. Its beautifully joyful and triumphant tone imparts a message of happiness in its lyrics, a message made clear when Alex listens to the movement after bringing two ten year old girls back to his house from the record store. He says, Then I pulled the lovely Ninth out of its sleeve, so that Ludwig van was no nagoy too, and I set the needle hissing on to the last movement, which was all bliss. There it was then…the male human goloss [chorus] coming in and telling them all to be joyful, and then the lovely blissful tune all about Joy being a glorious spark like of heaven, and then I felt the old tigers leap in me and then I leapt on these two young ptitsas.
(39)
Alex sees the truth in the music and recognizes the message of joy and happiness as a “spark like of heaven,” an eternal truth. Yet then, without even pausing to start a new sentence, he is taken over by the “old tigers” in him and compelled to rape the two ten year olds. This neatly encapsulates how, in the same thought, Alex can see something as true and beautiful as joy and happiness yet digress instantly to the other aspect of his character and commit acts of violence. The novel clouds the line between the divine “spark of heaven” in the music and the horrible acts it incites Alex to commit. This mix shows that Alex contains the capacity for both the good and the bad, and his actions just depend on which impulse he chooses to follow. The hybridization of good and bad is also manifested by other characters in the novel. One example occurs in the third section when Alex sees the man with the books he assaulted at the beginning of the story. They are at the library, and the man calls to his
Pisenti 14 friends, saying, “‘Kill him [Alex], stamp on him, murder him, kick his teeth in[!]’” (114). Several ninety year old scholars then try to assault Alex. “Scholar” usually evokes the image of a peaceful, wise old person who is not prone to acts of violence. Yet several scholars beat Alex up and call for his death at the library, a place typically symbolizing quiet and order. Even in these men who traditionally stand for peace and decorum, there exists a capacity for malice. Burgess uses this contrast to demonstrate the sheer capacity for violence present in all parts of the human spectrum, from Alex the violent criminal to the supposedly peaceful scholars. Furthermore, F. Alexander, the man whose wife Alex brutally raped, is portrayed at some moments as a kind old man and at other times as a psychopath. In the third section, F. Alexander unknowingly takes Alex into his home as an honored guest after his assault at the library. Alex describes how F. Alexander calls him down to breakfast, “full of joy and love and all that cal,” conjuring the image of an old man caring for his grandchild (124). This loving benevolence soon evaporates when F. Alexander discovers that Alex raped his wife. Alex explains how he saw this “madness in F. Alexander’s glazzies [eyes]” before F. Alexander goes completely insane with rage (129). Once kind towards Alex, F. Alexander now wants to do him harm. Within each character, there is a conflict and blending between the propensity to do good and the temptation to do bad. This juxtaposition of the good and the bad creates a contradiction, but Alex’s narration reveals that the choice between them is what defines our humanity. The first glimpse of this resolution arises during the demonstration of Alex’s treatment. The prison chaplain is the only one to speak out, saying, “‘He has no real choice, has he? …
Pisenti 15 He ceases to be a wrongdoer, [but] he [also] ceases to be a creature capable of moral choice’” (99). The chaplain sees that the treatment has taken away something of Alex’s humanity. By removing the ability to choose between good and bad, the government has effectively taken away moral choice. Humans are moral agents by definition; what differentiates us from animals is that we make choices based on our morals instead of inbred instinct. When Alex is forced to make decisions for reasons akin to instinct, namely, to counter the “feelings of physical distress” brought on by thoughts of violence, he is denigrated to the status of animal (99). His actions have no relation to rational or moral choice, and the response of the chaplain mirrors this evaluation. The chaplain’s tone is one of disgust, and because Alex is such a violent criminal, disgust with the government and sympathy for Alex could only arise through something as dramatic as a loss of humanity. Choice is crucial because, as the chaplain implies, without choice we have lost our ability to reason morally and hence cease to possess that important aspect of our being. In the final chapter, the government reverses Alex’s treatment so he is able to once again make the moral, rational choice between a life of good and a life of evil, thereby salvaging his humanity. Despite the fact that Alex’s violent tendencies make him a threat to society, he regains his right to make moral choices. This shows that in the novel, the ability to choose is more important to humanity than eliminating all chance of crime. In the last few pages, Alex sees one of his old droogs, Pete, and learns that he is married and living a peaceful, lawful life with a job at an insurance company. Realizing that he too can make a choice between the good and bad in himself, Alex begins to desire
Pisenti 16 a life similar to Pete’s. He makes a moral choice, exercising that basic aspect of humanity, and selects his potential for good over the bad which had thus far dominated his life. In that choice, Alex truly regains his humanity. Fundamentally, each person in the novel possesses the potential for good but often a predilection to commit evil. What Burgess ultimately tries to convey is that it is the choice between these competing compulsions that makes us human. When Alex loses his ability to make a moral choice, he also loses the ability to express his humanity, whether for good or for evil. Yet, as the ending reveals, giving him the chance to choose restores his humanity and ultimately leads to the embrace of the “spark of heaven” he sees in Ludwig van’s glorious Ninth. Good, as they say, will win out if given the chance.
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IV. Meursault: The Second Coming Albert Camus lived in a time of substantial social upheaval. As a Frenchman during World War II and a native of French Algeria, he saw his fair share of injustice in the Nazi rule and occupation as well as in the way Arabs were oppressed in their homeland. It was in this environment that he developed his philosophy and subsequently wrote The Stranger, a novel toying with the idea of what our role should be as humans in the world and where we fall in a divine milieu.1 In The Stranger, these themes are played out through the trial and execution of the main character Meursault, as well as through several interactions between Meursault and religious figures. Interestingly enough, in a preface to his novel, Camus describes how he tried to portray Meursault as “the only Christ we deserve.”2 In his commitment to the truth, Meursault is crucified by a society who does not understand him. This portrayal is an indictment of religion and exposes what Camus saw as the paradox of believing in a benevolent, omnipotent being in a world where cruelty is possible.
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Camus also wrote two seminal essays, entitled “The Myth of Sisyphus” and “The Rebel,” which deal with this theme as well. It is safe to say that Camus was deeply troubled by religion. Raised a Catholic, he quickly turned away from the precepts of religion later in life. The issue of a benevolent, omnipotent God is at the root of his philosophical problem with religion. Acutely aware of his surroundings, Camus recognized a world steeped in suffering and saw the obvious contradiction with a God who is at the same time all powerful and all good. Camus posits his “absurd man” in response to this paradox. Essentially, the absurd man rejects God based on the suffering present in the world, and places the responsibility to alleviate such suffering on humanity’s shoulders. The obvious corollary to this definition of the absurd man is that while the Christian believes suffering in this world brings a good life in the next, the absurd man tries to live a good life in this world because there is no guarantee of a better life to come (Loose 207). This philosophical idea shaped Camus’ writing in The Stranger. 2 Camus quoted in Sherman, pg. 63
The Stranger follows a series of absurd events in the life of its oddly distant narrator, Meursault. Beginning with the death and funeral of his mother, the novel subsequently develops Meursault’s character and circumstantial relationships with his neighbor Raymond and girlfriend Marie. At the end of the first section, Meursault finds himself on a beach where, without provocation, he shoots an Arab who had earlier threatened Raymond. In the second section, Camus traces the progress of Meursault’s trial. Paradoxically, he is convicted more for failing to cry at his mother’s funeral than for his real crime of murder. Facing execution, Meursault has a revealing conversation with the prison Chaplain in which he refuses to admit belief in God, valiantly flying into the face of death without hope for an afterlife. Occurring at the climax of the novel, this scene reveals the religious undertones of the story and is the focus of this essay. Through allusion, Meursault is portrayed as a Christ figure in The Stranger. Camus describes Meursault outright as “a man who, without any heroics, accepts death for the sake of truth,” and “is paradoxically…the only Christ we deserve” (Camus quoted in Sherman 63). The parallels to Jesus’ crucifixion are striking. Both men go willingly to deaths rather than renounce their beliefs. Jesus was crucified by the Romans for being a threat to the order of life, just as Meursault is convicted and sentenced to death for “not behaving as others do” (Masters 29). Additionally, Meursault is arguably the most honest man in the novel. At times, his narration can come across as disinterested and almost emotionally dead. For example, the novel opens with the statement, “Maman died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don’t know” (3). This may be interpreted as emotional detachment, but it is actually an extreme fidelity to his emotions. Rather than displaying Pisenti 19
the expected grief, Meursault describes his feelings just as they are, without embellishment. Louis Hudon describes how Camus “does not try to render the entire consciousness of [Meursault’s] character, but only those perceptions which, at various moments of life, penetrate and rise to the surface of consciousness” (63). The only elements of Meursault’s character exposed in the text are those that are absolutely true to what he is feeling, those that “penetrate and rise to the surface” of his consciousness. Because the other characters in the novel do not exhibit this fundamental faithfulness to their emotions, Camus has set Meursault apart in honesty to himself, mirroring Christ’s famed honesty. At his trial, Meursault refuses to betray his emotions and tell a story that would have certainly exonerated him. In this act, he is giving himself up to conviction and death for the sake of the truth, much as Jesus Christ did in Roman times. The diction in the novel is also reminiscent of Christ, further drawing the parallels between the two. At the end of the novel, Meursault undergoes an almost Christ-like revelation, suddenly realizing that life must be lived for its own sake without concern for an afterlife. He goes on to say, “For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators at the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate” (123). As Hudon describes, the parallel between Meursault and a Christ figure is evident from the diction and imagery in this passage (61). “Consummated” has a Christian, religious overtone. Additionally, the image of people greeting Meursault’s death with cries of hate parallels the manner in which Jesus was greeted by crowds of non-believers. Meursault also mirrors the archetypal innocence of a Christ figure. As Masters describes, Meursault is “innocen[t] Pisenti 20
and untouched by Original Sin” (28). This child-like innocence can be seen in the way Meursault fearlessly tells the truth about his emotions with no concept of the harm that will befall him by doing so. Another example of Meursault’s innocence occurs when he realizes, extremely late in his trial, “how much all these people hated [him]” and that “[he] was guilty” (90). Up until that point, Meursault lives in a state of complete innocence and ignorance of his guilt or the animosity of others. Much like Christ, he possesses innocence but is rooted out by society and crushed as a threat to their way of life. In portraying Meursault as a Christ figure, Camus has given the novel divine weight as he begins to construct an alternative mode of living. The ironic similarity between Meursault and Christ arises in the purpose of their “crucifixions,” allowing Camus to provide a substitute to divine rule. Christ is crucified for the sins of humanity, and in his resurrection provides proof of a divine entity. Donald Lazere relates that Camus, in his essay “Myth of Sisyphus,”3 talks about how the “Antichrist…will kill himself explicitly to deny the existence of God and immortality, thus freeing men of their delusions” (158). Meursault, even called “Monsieur Antichrist” by the examining magistrate, represents this aim of freeing man from his divine delusions (Camus 71). He flatly denies the existence of God and heaven, and just like the Antichrist of the “Myth of Sisyphus,” is “happy” as he goes to his death in defiance of religion (Camus 123). It follows that while Meursault exhibits many similarities to Jesus Christ, he fundamentally represents the death of religion rather than its birth. The portrayal of Meursault as a Christ figure, although paradoxical, lends power to the novel Pisenti 21
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According to Masters, the “Myth of Sisyphus” is a philosophical commentary on The Stranger and represents the hard philosophical reasoning behind The Stranger’s literary ideas.
as Camus explores an alternative to religion. Ultimately, the absurd man represented by Meursault provides the basis for a new existence free of religious hypocrisy. In his writings, Camus not only questions God’s existence but also tries to provide an alternative framework from which humanity can derive its morals. In a world of suffering, Camus believed that man must find his values in life itself and not in an unjust, divine being. John Loose describes Camus as a man “crying out for a life in which values are available within the scope of human action and history” (207). In other words, human values should not be based upon supernatural origin or belief in an afterlife, because the only certain truth is living a good life now. Camus developed his philosophy in the face of what he viewed as religious hypocrisy in society. As a literary figure, Meursault is shaped by this philosophy and transformed into the Christ of Camus’ new morality. Camus explores the alternatives to religion and its hypocrisy through several themes, the first being capital punishment. Vehemently against the death penalty, Camus wrote several essays including “Reflections on the Guillotine” to argue against its use in post-war Europe. He states that “capital punishment…has always been a religious punishment” in that its moral justification comes from the fact that the executioners believe they are not delivering a final sentence, but instead deferring judgment to God during the second coming (Camus, “Reflections” 444). Problems arise, however, when the death penalty is imposed on an atheist or agnostic who does not share the same certainty that true judgment is yet to come. Meursault falls into this category, repeatedly refusing to profess a belief in God because such a profession would be dishonest and Pisenti 22
contrary to his convictions. Illustrating this point, Meursault says, “According to [the chaplain], human justice was nothing and divine justice was everything. I pointed out that it was the former that had condemned me” (118). This shows how in Meursault’s worldview, the religious social institution has effectively assumed the throne of God and passed a sentence with god-like finality. When the society’s Holy Scripture preaches “Thou shalt not kill,” this ultimate death sentence represents a clear hypocrisy of morals. Also, paradoxically, what the executioner sees as a way to defer judgment to God is to the absurd man a final death sentence. This paradox and hypocrisy are the foundations of Camus’ indictment of religion in The Stranger. The issues of life after death and Camus’ alternative, humanistic optimism, are explored through Meursault’s conversation with the chaplain. In an effort to convince Meursault to take God into his heart, the chaplain says, “I know that at one time or another you’ve wished for another life,” to which Meursault responds that wanting another life “didn’t mean any more than wishing to be rich, to be able to swim faster, or to have a more nicely shaped mouth” (119). Meursault can see that wishing for another life does not change the cards dealt to him, just as nothing would to come of wishing for a “more nicely shaped mouth.” Instead of giving up on the life he has, Meursault is optimistic about the world irrespective of what happens after death. This optimism, as James Woelfel states, is symbolized by the “invincible sun” (125). In The Stranger, Meursault is constantly motivated by the potency of the sun, an image which recurs in virtually every scene. This powerful symbol represents the driving force in Meursault’s
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life, namely, humanistic optimism about our condition in the world, and encapsulates the alternative Camus presents to religion. Meursault’s narration further reveals Camus’ humanistic theory that it is better to live without hope for heaven in favor of a better life now. During his epiphany in the final scene of the novel, Meursault realizes that hope in the Christian sense is pointless. He says, “Blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope…,” language which is reminiscent of a baptism or confession in its cleansing nature (122). The flow of consciousness style in this section lends it a certain power, ironically much like a divine revelation. In his revelation, Meursault is literally “washed clean” of his sin, namely, hope for a pardon, and is then able to accept in himself the “gentle indifference” of a world which does not trouble itself with the fate of man (122). As Rik Van Nieuwenhove paraphrased from the “Myth of Sisyphus,” “We must live without hope, without consolations, [and] without illusions” (347). Camus wants us to exist without any false hope or illusions about an afterlife, and actually live for life’s sake instead of living only to be rewarded in a life to come. Meursault does just this, as his existence is deeply rooted in the physical experiences of the world, and admits to the chaplain that the question of God is “unimportant” (Camus 116). As Woelfel put it, Camus challenges us to live “creatively, courageously, and happily ‘without appeal’ beyond meanings and values derived solely from our human condition in the world” (138). In other words, the human condition itself should give life meaning without the need for a divine being. This optimistic approach to life frames Camus’ alternative to religion.
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The “crucifixion” of Meursault is used to highlight the flaws in religion and serves as a further indictment of its principles, providing justification for an alternative. In the act of crucifixion, there is a role reversal in which the Christians are no longer the victims. Instead, they assume the title of crucifier, putting an atheist to death for following his conscience just as the Romans put Jesus to death for following his. As discussed above, the verdict they pronounce has an air of finality that should be left to God, and in that verdict they have hypocritically overstepped their self-proclaimed roles as humans under divine rule. The resolution provided by Camus to this religious hypocrisy involves deriving meaning from human solidarity in our condition here on earth. Significance in Camus’ world, according to Woelfel, is created by the encounter between the “meaning-creating being we are and the indifference of the universe into which we are ‘thrown’” (98). At the end of The Stranger, Meursault comes to terms with this “gentle indifference of the world” and subsequently finds that he “had been happy and…was happy again” (122-123). His realization of the world’s indifference to human suffering indicates that there is no godly being looking over the fates of every human in existence. Our job as humans, Meursault realizes, is to find happiness in actually living life without hope for a life to come, because in his world every piece of evidence points away from a God concerned with human affairs and towards His non-existence. Meursault is willing to die for this truth because unlike others in the novel, he has lived up to its precepts and hence his life has not been meaningless. Realizing that he had been happy allows Meursault to face death, but unlike the other characters, Meursault can meet his end without the promises of eternal life afforded Pisenti 25
by religion. Masters describes how “paradoxically, [Meursault] can face death now, because he has realized how much he loves life; the chaplain, on the other hand, who is already ‘dead’, does not love life—he prefers to wish for something better” (32). In discovering that he loves life, Meursault finds that it is okay to die because he has actually lived, whereas the Christian would say it is all right to die because there is a life after this one. Camus tries to show that the Christian approach leads to the disastrous paradox and hypocrisy discussed above. In The Stranger, the act of believing that there is a second life to come leads one to easily neglect this life and devalue the severity of ones actions as they relate to issues such as capital punishment. Meursault’s manner of living fully in the present is the alternative Camus presents to living for an unknown God. Camus summarizes this act in “The Rebel.” He says, “There is, in fact, a god…namely the world. To participate in his divinity, all that is necessary is to consent” (106). That is exactly what Meursault does in his very physical existence, yet the other characters refuse to participate, preferring to hope for an elusive afterlife. To see that the way of religion in The Stranger is flawed, one need not look further than the Magistrate’s plea, “Do you want my life to be meaningless?” (69). If the disbelief of a single person can render one’s life meaningless, then it is time to trade in religion for a more humanistic approach and attempt to make this world better for the living. Meursault, surrounded by Christ imagery, is the messiah of a new way of life. The paradox of his trial, namely, that he was convicted for insensitivity at his mother’s funeral instead of for murdering a man, as well as the hypocritical way in which a religious society delivers a final death sentence, point to the necessity of such a new Pisenti 26
order. Meursault is quite literally “The Stranger” in his own land, alienated from society by his recognition of the indifference of the world to human suffering. Realizing the power of the world’s indifference, Meursault symbolizes a call to abandon a paradoxical way of life and embrace the inevitability of death as a reason to live life now. In that respect, Meursault’s character truly does represent the Second Coming of Christ.
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V. Works Cited Burgess, Anthony. A Clockwork Orange. London: Penguin Books, 1972. Camus, Albert. “The Rebel: Metaphysical Rebellion” in Philosophy and Religion: Some Contemporary Perspectives. Jerry H. Gill, Editor. Minneapolis, Minnesota: Burgess Publishing Company, 1968. Camus, Albert. “Reflections on the Guillotine” in Religion from Tolstoy to Camus. Walter Kaufmann, Editor. New York, NY: Harper & Brothers, 1961. Camus, Albert. The Stranger. Translated by Matthew Ward. New York, NY: Random House, Inc., 1989. Hudon, Louis. “The Stranger and the Critics.” Yale French Studies 25 (1960): 59-64. Lazere, Donald. The Unique Creation of Albert Camus. New Haven, Connecticut: Yale University Press, 1973. Loose, John. “The Christian as Camus’s Absurd Man.” The Journal of Religion 42:3 (1962): 203-214. Masters, Brian. Camus: a study. Totowa, New Jersey: Rowman and Littlefield, 1974. Sherman, David. “Camus’s Meursault and Sartrian Irresponsibility.” Philosophy and Literature 19:1 (1995): 60-77. Van Nieuwenhove, Rik. “Albert Camus, Simone Weil and the Absurd.” Irish Theological Quarterly 70 (2005): 343-354. Walls, Jeannette. The Glass Castle: A Memoir. New York: Scribner, 2006. Woelfel, James W. Camus: A Theological Perspective. Nashville, Tennessee: Parthenon Press, 1975.