Albert Camus’ debut novel, The Stranger, was first published in its original French in 1942, and in its first English translation in 1946. Its blurb highlights the fact that it has had ‘a profound impact on millions of American readers’; one can only imagine that the same could also be said for readers of other nationalities.
In The Stranger, Camus presents the story of ‘an ordinary man who unwittingly gets drawn into a senseless murder on a sundrenched Algerian beach’. The author’s intention was to explore what he termed ‘the nakedness of man faced with the absurd’. The translator, Matthew Ward, notes in his introduction that ‘The Stranger demanded of Camus the creation of a style at once literary and profoundly popular, an artistic sleight of hand that would make the complexities of a man’s life appear simple’.
The Stranger opens in the following, rather detached, manner: ‘Maman died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don’t know. I got a telegram from home. “Mother deceased. Funeral tomorrow. Faithfully yours.” That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it was yesterday.’ The voice of the protagonist, Meursault, is used throughout. He is an interesting character, both in terms of his traits and his view of the world. He immediately travels to another place in Algeria, the country in which he lives, to keep vigil over his mother’s body until her funeral. During this sensitive time, he converses with the caretaker: ‘… he told me he had lived in Paris and that he had found it hard to forget it. In Paris they kept vigil over the body for three, sometimes four days. But here you barely have time to get used to the idea before you have to start running after the hearse.’
There are many themes at play here, from loss and grief, to identity and belonging. Meursault is not at all sensitive, and whilst his character alters along the way, following first his mother’s death, and then the murder he is blamed for, there is little by way of his innermost feelings revealed to the reader. I am sure that some more critical readings point to his falling somewhere upon the Autism spectrum, due to his inability to connect with sad situations, and with his own grief.
With regard to demonstrating the setting particularly, Camus shows real strength; the simplicity with regard to his descriptions of Algeria makes it all the more striking and vivid: ‘I had the whole sky in my eyes and it was blue and gold’, and ‘The street lamps were making the pavement glisten, and the light from the streetcars would glint off someone’s shiny hair, or off a smile or a silver bracelet’ are two of my favourite examples. Camus’ use of two distinct sections, ‘Before’ and ‘After’, was simple yet effective.
Ward justifies his translation choices in the following way: ‘In addition to giving the book a more “American” quality, I have also attempted to venture farther into the letter of Camus’ novel, to capture what he said and how he said it, not what he meant’. This is perhaps the widest admission of a translator adapting the text to convey what they want to, rather than what the author intended, that I have come across in my Reading the World Project thus far. Stylistically, The Stranger is very easy to read. As demonstrated in the introduction, the sentences are rather short throughout, and have very little complexity. As this engaging volume runs to just 123 pages, it is the perfect tome with which to introduce yourself to Camus’ work, and a great book to snuggle up with if you have a free afternoon.