Two Shades of Meursault

In The Stranger, Camus shows the reader the consequences of having society turn on you versus the benefits of being looked on favorably by society. Camus achieves this through his main character, Meursault, who, at first, is respected by his society, but loses this respect when he does not behave in a fashion that society condones.

Throughout Part One, Camus depicts Meursault as a generally cool dude. The reader sees him pick up Marie, a former acquaintance whom he met on the beach. Camus makes the reader admire the suaveness with which Meursault approaches a possible fling, and it's clear that he's well-versed in the art of flirtation. The way Camus describes the pair swimming, chatting, seeing a movie, going back to Meursault's place, is relatable, if not desirable, from the reader's point of view. The reader sees that Meursault is also tight with Céleste, who owns a restaurant. We see Céleste checking up on Meursault after his mother's death as he serves Meursault food, and it is clear that Meursault is a regular and valued customer. Then, there's Ramon, who, despite the ugly rumors about his reputation, takes a liking to the humble Meursault. Ramon invites him over for dinner, while sharing intimate details of his private life despite just meeting Meursault, and then proceeds to call Meursault his "pal." When Ramon tells Meursault about his beef with an Arab man, Meursault plays along and has his back, filling the role Ramon wants him to play.

From these interactions, plus the way Meursault is greeted by the soccer boys as part of their community, Camus establishes Meursault's place in society. He has close connections with people from around town, plus the natural ability to make them with people (usually women) who interest him. He is well-liked and perceived as normal because he does what is expected of him. In fact, Camus describes in explicit (and sometimes excruciatingly boring) detail Meursault's ordinary, day-to-day actions: going to work, the beach, smoking, having flings, eating food, sitting on the balcony. Although the reader senses something off because we have access to Meursault's apathetic/seemingly-devoid-of-all-feeling-and-opinion mind, Meursault does not physically reveal anything strange. That is, until he commits murder.

Disturbingly, it is not the fact that Meursault committed murder that primarily bothers his community. On the contrary, the victim is not mentioned ONCE in the court room (a fact I find extremely uncomfortable - but I'll save that for another blog post). Rather, it is Meursault's inability to satisfyingly play the role of "troubled murderer" that distances himself from society. And society attempts to help Meursault play the part. His lawyer, for example, continuously mentions Maman's death, in the hopes that Meursault will take the hint and use his grief as justification for a tragic mistake. But Meursault simply responds by saying he "probably did love Maman, but that didn't mean anything." This callous statement leaves the lawyer "slightly disgust[ed]." Meursault even points out that "[the lawyer] didn't understand me, and he was sort of holding it against me." This is what happens with the court as well. After shoving a crucifix under Meursault's nose, giving him every opportunity to show remorse and love for God, they deem him "Monsieur Antichrist" and decide to publicly execute him.

I will note that, thus far, the reader does not have a clear sense of how Meursault's friends think of him after his murder. The examples above could be a reflection on the justice system more than society as a whole. Nevertheless, there is something to be said for the way Meursault is regarded when he caters to the role society wants him to play versus when he reveals his disturbingly honest and true self.

Cool Girl Brett

I wrote a comment on Tina's blog and got inspired and this is the product of that.

Throughout our discussions of The Sun Also Rises, I sympathized with Brett, but not because of the hardships she went through. I sympathized with her because Hemingway's portrayal of her character was undeveloped and shallow. She was seen only through Jake's "male gaze" (as used by Tina), meaning the only aspects of her individuality that were described and valued were her physical appearance and sexuality. Brett is first described by Jake as "damned good-looking," and he proceeds to describe her appearance in great detail. The reader learns exactly how Brett's hair looks and what material her skirt is made of, but we don't know anything about her occupation, education, or interests. Contrasting Brett's introduction with Robert Cohn, the reader learns from the first line of the novel that he "was once a middleweight boxing champion of Princeton." Despite the fact that Jake hated Cohn, Jake reveals more about him from the first sentence of the novel than about Brett from the entirety of the story. Brett is what Gillian Flynn, author of Gone Girl, would call the Cool Girl. To get a sense of what that means, here is an excerpt from Flynn's novel:

"She’s a cool girl. Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer...and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth...while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot. Hot and understanding."

We talked about Brett being somewhat androgynous in class, but I would argue that her masculine qualities stem from this Cool Girl persona. Obviously video games were not as popular in the 20th century, but there are glaring similarities between the Cool Girl and Brett's character. She is considered "one of the guys" because her drinking habits match or exceed theirs. But even when she is drunk, Brett maintains a level of flirtiness and composure that Mike, for example, does not have. In fact, most of the male characters in the novel get rowdy, rude, or sloppy at some point while under the influence. But Brett remains witty and carefree, with "curves like the hull of a racing yacht," as Jake reminds us. 

The problem is, Cool Girl does not actually exist; she is a figment of male imagination. Hemingway attempted to bring this Cool Girl to "life" in the form of Brett. But because Cool Girl is not real, this personification does not work because you cannot develop her into a 3-Dimensional character. Her existence depends on there being males in her life. When she is distressed, it is about her boy troubles, when she is happy, it is because she is falling in love. I sympathize with Brett because she had the potential to be a powerful character, with the same personality development we see in the male principle characters. In other words, she deserved an author who recognized the importance of developed female characters and that Cool Girl does not count as one.