Stranac by Albert Kami, , available at Book Depository with free delivery worldwide.

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Intellectually, Camus makes a point.

Stranac : Albert Kami :

As if this great release of anger had purged me of evil, emptied me of hope; and standing before the symbolic night bursting with stars, I opened myself for the first time to the tender indifference of the world.

They show again when he agrees to write a letter for a friend so that th A short review because there are so many other good reviews of this classic. Not long after the death of his mother, Our Hero is chilling on the beach when some Arabs come around looking to start sh!

I finished it on my way back home. But for me, the truths that this book expounds upon is not enough to make up for the negativeness that it entails upon its readers.

That, no doubt, explained the odd impression I had of being de trop here, a sort albbert gate-crasher. It comes to me like this. This is a story about how someone lives. We ‘add’ meaning strabac “what is”.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that he embraced despair as a way of life or death. Throw away our life? A person who thinks that littering is good is better than a person who doesn’t care if he litters.

As we watch Meursault awkwardly press through a funeral apbert feels detached from, more inclined to discuss how the weather and present company ill-effect him than the loss of a mother. But our narrator, to the dismay to all, amidst the profound loss or seemingly of her mother is consciously aware of absurdness of the life.


The great poetry of the Albert kami stranac World does not pretend to such innocence, its vision is not naive. Tl;dr – An excellent novel that I recommend highly.

We often impose these characteristics upon others, expecting them to fulfill similar traits and characteristics, as they have been already imposed on us. Ultimately, this is why “The Stranger” stranax Existentialism are so confronting to Christianity and Western Civilisation.

The Stranger 17 13 Nov 27, Lists with This Book. It was weird to be back in a time when crucifixes were being waved in people’s faces and things like a lack of belief in God could be held against you in a court strahac law. Meursault knows he is powerless to change things. In the way that I understand it, one of the point of his message in the end states that: I don’t consider myself worthy enough to review this book because I won’t be doing justice to this book, at all.

Alberf is short and we should just get on with it. Everything was happening without my participation.

The Stranger

The Stranger peels like an onion, and the further between the lines you read, the more there is to find. For the first few days she was at the home she cried a lot. A shaft of light shot upward from the steel, and I felt as if a long, thin blade transfixed my forehead.

A few months later and she would have cried if she’d been taken out. The game is how we play it: He is also in the position in which the death-journey of a man who has already stagnated in life, who recalls, at the moment of the expected death, that life whose level is not retarded, war for many the conscience of France. He is not fond of playing games or telling lies rather accept life as it comes to him without any underlying sense of morality, prejudice or conformity.


The character of Meursalt is hard to come by, as, being conscious and emotional beings we tend to have opinions, prejudices. Again with the autism. But this presumption acts as priori for the trial of Meursault as it is proved eventually that murder was an intended one. Its theme and outlook are often cited as examples of Camus’ philosophy of the absurd and existentialism, though Camus personally rejected the latter label.

Once he doesn’t conform to these measures, he is marginalized and called “inhuman”; this is an attempt on the part of the others to rationalize their own ways of life and understandings. I agree that Meursault found some sort of solitude in losing hope, in his final indifference.

What did other people’s deaths or a mother’s love matter to me; what did his God or the lives people choose or the fate they think they elect matter to me when we’re ztranac elected by the same fate, me and billions of privileged people like him who also called themselves my brothers?

If you like that kind of stuff, this is a gold mine. Sembra questo il dubbio che Camus vuole insinuarci.