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A review by jacob_edwards985
The Plague by Albert Camus
5.0
I've spent a lot of time writing about absurdism in reviews and whatnot since my first foray into Camus with The Myth of Sisyphus - this book challenges my preconception of what Camus believed his philosophy to dictate in the lives of those who hold his views, all the while being a compelling and beautifully written narrative.
The absurdism of The Myth of Sisyphus, in my opinion, almost lends itself to a myopic narcissism; it is a borderline hedonistic work at times, detailing the lives of those willing to rebel against a cruel world by virtue of their prolific lovemaking, work, art - all pursuits that feel very solitary in practice and intent - but The Plague shows the inherent collaborative element of this absurd world.
“All I can say is that on this earth there are pestilences and there are victims – and as far as possible one must refuse to be on the side of the pestilence.” We are all victims. The town of Oran is placed in a scenario that makes this abundantly clear; the plague is indiscriminate, tragedy and death are the great equalizers - nobody is above it, and so we all are essentially obligated to stand together under a united victimhood. This shows an evolution in his angle of absurdism to me; he is now emphasizing a collaboration in his work and writing about a world that is inherently communal rather than one that almost requires an individualistic detachment (or, I suppose, embracing) of the ills from the subject.
In this, The Plague is an expertly crafted exploration into tragedy. The first fourth or so of the novel follows the gradual encroaching of plague on the citizens of Oran and the innermost feelings of Rieux as he watches this happen. It feels distant; Oran is a town so normal as to almost be remarkable in its mundanity, and yet, tragedy knocks on its door all the same. We all operate with an implicit assumption that tomorrow is a guarantee, that normalcy is assured, that there is some kind of logic or structure the world is meant to follow. The Plague shows the world reeling from the shattering of this illusion, much as the world of Camus was following World War II and the tragedy that was almost 30 years of bloody war in Europe. We are one tragedy away from disarray, disorder, chaos, and yet we feel invincible from within our paper shield of the mundane. How is one meant to react? What is the prerogative of the victims when they become cognizant of this fact? Camus answers this with the citizens of Oran; most notably for me in Paneloux, Grand, and Tarrou.
Paneloux is a fascinating character within the conceit of the work; he is a pastor too devout to live. His first big moment is his speech in the church following the week of prayer - well attended; a sermon that detailed his agential view of the plague - it is a punishment from God. A test for the righteous, something that can be overcome as it has the force of an active being behind it. When he next appears, he is a man shattered by circumstance. He is doggedly working in the sanitation crew, finally breaking upon the visage of a dying boy. He has crucified himself on the cross of reason; this boy, under his purview of the world, must die this way. There must be some reason, some incorporeal good that comes from the suffering of this boy - but it is fundamentally unconscionable to Paneloux for this to be true. Yet, he cannot let himself off the mount, and he must justify it. Holding a second, more sparsely attended, service, he sounds his own death throes. Tarrou comments on it poignantly, "'When an innocent youth can have his eyes destroyed, a Christian should either lose his faith or consent to have his eyes destroyed. Paneloux declines to lose his faith, and he will go through with it to the end.'" He cannot renege his faith, and yet it is shattered in the presence of absurd cruelty. Paneloux dies of his own internal conflict. He cannot live in this world so divided within himself.
Grand almost represents the opposite. He is a true absurd hero, Sisyphus with a boulder weighing a single sentence. He stands in the hurricane calmly working, choosing to aid in the sanitation crews as if there was no other option, as if it would be unconscionable to not risk his life day after day. He is a bastion of hope in the novel and a person who can stand largely unbroken by a cruel world. He knows its absurdity and yet lives each day to spite it. Even when he himself is dying of plague, he thinks only of destroying his writing in order only to write it again the next day. The world has no real hold on a man like Grand.
Tarrou, though, is my favorite character and one that most clearly gives the reader thought. He is already a broken man, a past underscored by murder and connection to death through his father and his revolutionary activity, now dedicated to his own absolution and the betterment of man. Tarrou poses an impossible question: How can one be redeemed in a world without God? He proposes an answer; through sympathy. Tarrou lives throughout the novel in a violent rebellion to the plague, he knows it is unstoppable, that the people cannot be cured by him, that the world does not care, but what else could he possibly do but fight against it until the sun sets on his own life? What is being human without a raging sympathy for your troubled neighbor? He is the most lucid man in the work. He is conscious of every injustice present in this ridiculous world and chooses to fight every day against the apathy that idea generates. To me, he is humanity distilled, "'I feel more fellowship with the defeated than with saints. Heroism and sanctity don't really appeal to me I imagine. What interests me is being a man.'"
He dies of the plague (notably, smiling all the while), and the reader is left with the question of his post-mortem state. Is he at peace? Did he achieve redemption? His death is ultimately the battle cry of a battle won and the symbol of a battle lost all the same.
Rieux's conclusion is what really brings the novel together for me, though. The populous celebrates, and in celebrating, retreats again to the false security of a world unbreakable. The death of his wife and Tarrou will stand forever in his mind as a defense against complicity and ignorance to the infinite perils of life. What was the plage? "Just life, no more than that" says the novel. The plague is neverending, humanity feels the strain of its boulder every day, and only experiences respite in the moments between, if there can be said to be any. The world is a place dictated by love, exile, and suffering, but through a cognizance of community and personhood amidst the storm, we can achieve a kind of peace regardless.
"So all a man could win in the conflict between plague and life was knowledge and memories. But Tarrou, perhaps, would have called that winning the match."
I don't think I've written a review this long that skips over so much of a novel, but its worth recognizing what I did miss. Cottard and his ridiculous embracing of the plague; he is a person who finds solace in the ravaged world and return to a kind of normalcy is the horror he must face. Rambert and his choice to remain within the town to fight; etc etc. The prose over all is absolutely striking and I always feel upset writing reviews of prose-heavy books as I cannot hope to capture and remember properly the feeling of actually reading the book.
I have to take a break from reading incredible books because these reviews are taking forever.
The absurdism of The Myth of Sisyphus, in my opinion, almost lends itself to a myopic narcissism; it is a borderline hedonistic work at times, detailing the lives of those willing to rebel against a cruel world by virtue of their prolific lovemaking, work, art - all pursuits that feel very solitary in practice and intent - but The Plague shows the inherent collaborative element of this absurd world.
“All I can say is that on this earth there are pestilences and there are victims – and as far as possible one must refuse to be on the side of the pestilence.” We are all victims. The town of Oran is placed in a scenario that makes this abundantly clear; the plague is indiscriminate, tragedy and death are the great equalizers - nobody is above it, and so we all are essentially obligated to stand together under a united victimhood. This shows an evolution in his angle of absurdism to me; he is now emphasizing a collaboration in his work and writing about a world that is inherently communal rather than one that almost requires an individualistic detachment (or, I suppose, embracing) of the ills from the subject.
In this, The Plague is an expertly crafted exploration into tragedy. The first fourth or so of the novel follows the gradual encroaching of plague on the citizens of Oran and the innermost feelings of Rieux as he watches this happen. It feels distant; Oran is a town so normal as to almost be remarkable in its mundanity, and yet, tragedy knocks on its door all the same. We all operate with an implicit assumption that tomorrow is a guarantee, that normalcy is assured, that there is some kind of logic or structure the world is meant to follow. The Plague shows the world reeling from the shattering of this illusion, much as the world of Camus was following World War II and the tragedy that was almost 30 years of bloody war in Europe. We are one tragedy away from disarray, disorder, chaos, and yet we feel invincible from within our paper shield of the mundane. How is one meant to react? What is the prerogative of the victims when they become cognizant of this fact? Camus answers this with the citizens of Oran; most notably for me in Paneloux, Grand, and Tarrou.
Paneloux is a fascinating character within the conceit of the work; he is a pastor too devout to live. His first big moment is his speech in the church following the week of prayer - well attended; a sermon that detailed his agential view of the plague - it is a punishment from God. A test for the righteous, something that can be overcome as it has the force of an active being behind it. When he next appears, he is a man shattered by circumstance. He is doggedly working in the sanitation crew, finally breaking upon the visage of a dying boy. He has crucified himself on the cross of reason; this boy, under his purview of the world, must die this way. There must be some reason, some incorporeal good that comes from the suffering of this boy - but it is fundamentally unconscionable to Paneloux for this to be true. Yet, he cannot let himself off the mount, and he must justify it. Holding a second, more sparsely attended, service, he sounds his own death throes. Tarrou comments on it poignantly, "'When an innocent youth can have his eyes destroyed, a Christian should either lose his faith or consent to have his eyes destroyed. Paneloux declines to lose his faith, and he will go through with it to the end.'" He cannot renege his faith, and yet it is shattered in the presence of absurd cruelty. Paneloux dies of his own internal conflict. He cannot live in this world so divided within himself.
Grand almost represents the opposite. He is a true absurd hero, Sisyphus with a boulder weighing a single sentence. He stands in the hurricane calmly working, choosing to aid in the sanitation crews as if there was no other option, as if it would be unconscionable to not risk his life day after day. He is a bastion of hope in the novel and a person who can stand largely unbroken by a cruel world. He knows its absurdity and yet lives each day to spite it. Even when he himself is dying of plague, he thinks only of destroying his writing in order only to write it again the next day. The world has no real hold on a man like Grand.
Tarrou, though, is my favorite character and one that most clearly gives the reader thought. He is already a broken man, a past underscored by murder and connection to death through his father and his revolutionary activity, now dedicated to his own absolution and the betterment of man. Tarrou poses an impossible question: How can one be redeemed in a world without God? He proposes an answer; through sympathy. Tarrou lives throughout the novel in a violent rebellion to the plague, he knows it is unstoppable, that the people cannot be cured by him, that the world does not care, but what else could he possibly do but fight against it until the sun sets on his own life? What is being human without a raging sympathy for your troubled neighbor? He is the most lucid man in the work. He is conscious of every injustice present in this ridiculous world and chooses to fight every day against the apathy that idea generates. To me, he is humanity distilled, "'I feel more fellowship with the defeated than with saints. Heroism and sanctity don't really appeal to me I imagine. What interests me is being a man.'"
He dies of the plague (notably, smiling all the while), and the reader is left with the question of his post-mortem state. Is he at peace? Did he achieve redemption? His death is ultimately the battle cry of a battle won and the symbol of a battle lost all the same.
Rieux's conclusion is what really brings the novel together for me, though. The populous celebrates, and in celebrating, retreats again to the false security of a world unbreakable. The death of his wife and Tarrou will stand forever in his mind as a defense against complicity and ignorance to the infinite perils of life. What was the plage? "Just life, no more than that" says the novel. The plague is neverending, humanity feels the strain of its boulder every day, and only experiences respite in the moments between, if there can be said to be any. The world is a place dictated by love, exile, and suffering, but through a cognizance of community and personhood amidst the storm, we can achieve a kind of peace regardless.
"So all a man could win in the conflict between plague and life was knowledge and memories. But Tarrou, perhaps, would have called that winning the match."
I don't think I've written a review this long that skips over so much of a novel, but its worth recognizing what I did miss. Cottard and his ridiculous embracing of the plague; he is a person who finds solace in the ravaged world and return to a kind of normalcy is the horror he must face. Rambert and his choice to remain within the town to fight; etc etc. The prose over all is absolutely striking and I always feel upset writing reviews of prose-heavy books as I cannot hope to capture and remember properly the feeling of actually reading the book.
I have to take a break from reading incredible books because these reviews are taking forever.