Everyone at some point in their life has felt out of place; the overwhelming feeling of being the odd one out, the misfit, the lone ranger. But unlike the Lone Ranger, most individuals
cannot muster so much bone chilling cool as he, much less put up an even somewhat
believable front. The monster that is isolation and the dread of unnacceptance
drives people to the point of insanity, depression and sometimes, conformity.
For if we didn’t have something that threatened the current of complacency, the
tidal waves of traditional, society would have no reason to not accept us. But
it is because at some point, every individual on this planet will stand for
something, say something, or do something that is contrary to popular belief
and notion. Meursault in The Stranger is indifferent to virtually everything.
He cannot sell out who he is and ironically dies for his right to be nothing at
all. He could not comprehend changing all that he was simply because of what
society required of him, and even when they shunned him, ostracized and imprisoned
him, he could not bow. If Meursault was the type to mourn his shortened life
perhaps one could view the immense measure of suffering that accompanies ostracism,
for it is a basis fundamental of human nature, instinctual from the beginnings
of the species evolution. The consequences of a life time of seclusion are detrimental
on the human psyche, the pack instinct so deeply instilled in man’s nature. It hurts when the ones we love reject us. It can be the quickest route to a self-destructive path of low self-esteem and piercing insecurity. But Meursault was the not the character to wail, weep and beat his chest in anguish. He did not plead for society to take him back into its arms, he did not beg for
salvation.
Though I do not agree with his indifferent lifestyle, I find his reslience to withstanding tradition admirable. At times in the The Stranger, one can catch small glimpses of Meursault's suffering, but paradoxically, his resolve to be everything his truly, basely was, overcame. If at ever we find ourselves on the outskrits, and the nagging desire to rejoin our freshly foreign commarades grows to impossible pain, seek solace in the fact that we are in ourselves a statement. Even if the only one receiving the message is ourselves.
Hi, Lauren.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your post about Merseault, and the difficulty of being an outcast. Anyone who is thoughtful risks that at some point in his life, and I wonder if that's why most of our class related so well to Merseault. I, too, admire the character of Merseault for refusing to pretend he's something other than what he is. But I also wonder if perhaps, in a world full of suffering, injustice, and need, if indifference isn't the greatest crime one could be accused of. Even people who do bad things in a fit of passion do it because they care about something, and are therefore capable of great goodness as well. But what can one say for apathy...that it won't really end up hurting anyone? Your comment that he "dies for his right to be nothing at all" is very perceptive. He's an anti-hero in so many ways, except that he won't give in to the pressure to conform. But is that enough? As always, I find your writing wonderful, except I could not understand the second sentence in your last paragraph. Good work overall!