248 Camus, Albert
wanting another chance at life. He reveals that “for
the first time... I opened myself to the gentle indif-
ference of the world. Finding it so much like myself
... I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy
again.” Meursault, formerly apathetic, indifferent,
and lacking any expression of sadness over death,
ends his narrative with the realization that death is
more than just the end of life.
Chris Lessick
Futility in The Stranger
In The Stranger, a novel based on Albert Camus’s
theory of the absurd, or the meaningless nature of
life, futility—the idea that action is pointless or use-
less—is reflected in Meursault’s actions, thoughts,
and words, which is particularly revealing since
he is the narrator. At his mother’s funeral, in his
relationships, the murder, and even while in prison,
Meursault clearly conveys futility above anything
else. It is shown, for examples, in how he approaches
the vigil and the funeral. As it becomes dark, Meur-
sault drinks coffee, then thinks, “I felt like having
a smoke. But I hesitated, because I didn’t know if
I could do it with Maman right there. I thought
about it; it didn’t matter... we smoked.” Clearly, at
such a somber moment in a person’s life—the night
before his mother’s funeral—Meursault comes to
the realization that something as trivial as smoking a
cigarette—obviously in poor taste for the occasion—
“didn’t matter.” In fact, at this time, nothing seems
to matter much to him, as he focuses on sensory
details—“the smell of flowers on the night air,”
“huge stomachs old women can have,” and “[t]he
woman [who] kept on crying.... I wished I didn’t
have to listen to her anymore.” From the first-person
point of view, only mundane observations are noted,
nothing intuitive or meaningful. Again, Meursault’s
behavior and thoughts signify that he does not feel
any grief, that everything is futile.
During the funeral procession the next day, the
sun’s heat seems the only thing noteworthy to Meur-
sault. The nurse tells him, “If you go slowly, you risk
getting sunstroke. But if you go too fast, you work
up a sweat and then catch a chill inside the church,”
to which Meursault agrees, saying, “She was right.
There was no way out,” The reader does not learn
which he chooses, only that he deems it futile to
do either. Finally, as he closes that part of the story,
Meursault states, “Sunday was over... Maman was
buried now... and... really, nothing had changed,”
which clearly shows that to him, mourning is futile.
Obviously, Meursault’s outlook on life is that any
reflection is pointless, as he continues as if nothing
happened.
Several of Meursault’s relationships also dem-
onstrate the theme of futility, beginning with the
relationship he starts with Marie the very next day.
After they have gone out for a while, she asks him
if he wants to marry her. Again, like his mother’s
death, a marriage would seem important, but Meur-
sault’s life is governed by futility, and therefore he
replies that “it didn’t make any difference to me,”
obviously showing his detached attitude toward
life. In the situations with his neighbor, Ray-
mond, Meursault again demonstrates detachment.
He agrees to write the letter and later agrees to be
a witness for Raymond, saying, “It didn’t matter to
me.” Here his indecisiveness is the only certainty
about Meursault; it seems that not much matters to
him at all—because he finds it all futile.
Futility is also depicted when Meursault shoots
the Arab. He waits at the bungalow after the ini-
tial fight, debating whether to climb the stairs and
face the women or stay on the beach. He calls the
heat “intense” and then thinks, “To stay or to go, it
amounted to the same thing.” The futility he per-
ceives in the decision leads him to walk back toward
the Arab. After he shoots, he admits, “I knew that I
had shattered the silence of a beach where I’d been
happy,” but he fires four more shots into the fallen
man anyway. At this point, he realizes that he has
basically ruined his life, saying, “It was like knock-
ing four quick times on the door of unhappiness.”
Undoubtedly, Meursault’s outlook on his actions—
and on life in general—is one of futility.
In the second part of the novel, Meursault’s time
in prison and at trial signifies futility not only in its
events but also in how Meursault perceives them.
While the prosecutor and defense attorney seem
to battle, Meursault wants to interject something,
feeling as though his “fate was being decided with-
out anyone so much as asking [his] opinion,” but a
moment later, he thinks, “I didn’t have anything to
say. Besides, I have to admit that whatever interest