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A review by dyno8426
Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre
5.0
If you ever had the pangs of existential angst and the threat of meaninglessness of any life, then this book is going to reverberate like an echo through your consciousness. You will get the Nausea (pun intended). Personally, I very much believe in and could relate to what this book talks about - the un-staged nature of our lives, with no directions, no roles whatsoever; getting created as a byproduct of randomness and getting extinguished very much so without any reason or control whatsoever. This book structured and contributed to my thoughts in a manner which I was very much looking forward to finding through somebody else's words.
Sartre makes the readers separate existence from consciousness and presents Existence as everything which is around us and of which, us "existents" are just mere ephemeral parts, like a branch swaying in the wind. It sits as a defiant, merciless, immovable present beyond which nothing exists - there was no past and there will be no future. "Life" as we think of it is just a byproduct of this existence, and our consciousness is the form that it takes in us (something we are aware of as well). Existence then comes as a universal attribute which the protagonist in this book sees in everything - in himself, in disillusioned people around him, in trees, in music, literally everything! Every being's sensation and our notions of it becomes just 'superfluous' - another term which I found perfect for such an idea.
He then goes on to present it as a sin which is inescapable for everyone who/which exists. This acute realisation is the Nausea which he catches and the terrifying solitude of oneself against the ever-pervasive Existence. A verbose analysis of the panic that this consciousness of such a thing ensues is something which I personally found relatable. The terror comes not from the absence of the so called "purpose", rather from the inescapability from this monolithic Existence and our natural fear of death which feeds into this fear. After acquiring Nausea, the loneliness one feels against Existence also comes through the futility and delusional staging which other people perform to impart meaningfulness to their existences. Sartre delivers this faithfully using book's hypersensitive description of Roquentin's everyday life experiences.
To grapple with something like this and convey it in a manner which us, non-philosophical, caught-up-in-our-lives people could relate to was totally unexpected. The book concludes with a ray of hope to justify one's existence while beating the curse of Existence. Contrasted to the sadness that ensues from a feeling of loss and loneliness, this ending was beautiful to witness. This book ends up being Roquentin's cry-for-battle against Existence, and Roquentin a character as memorable to me as The Stranger's Meursault - someone who questions the foundations of our notions about living.
Now let me get back to the superfluousness of my own life and let the Nausea recede...
Sartre makes the readers separate existence from consciousness and presents Existence as everything which is around us and of which, us "existents" are just mere ephemeral parts, like a branch swaying in the wind. It sits as a defiant, merciless, immovable present beyond which nothing exists - there was no past and there will be no future. "Life" as we think of it is just a byproduct of this existence, and our consciousness is the form that it takes in us (something we are aware of as well). Existence then comes as a universal attribute which the protagonist in this book sees in everything - in himself, in disillusioned people around him, in trees, in music, literally everything! Every being's sensation and our notions of it becomes just 'superfluous' - another term which I found perfect for such an idea.
He then goes on to present it as a sin which is inescapable for everyone who/which exists. This acute realisation is the Nausea which he catches and the terrifying solitude of oneself against the ever-pervasive Existence. A verbose analysis of the panic that this consciousness of such a thing ensues is something which I personally found relatable. The terror comes not from the absence of the so called "purpose", rather from the inescapability from this monolithic Existence and our natural fear of death which feeds into this fear. After acquiring Nausea, the loneliness one feels against Existence also comes through the futility and delusional staging which other people perform to impart meaningfulness to their existences. Sartre delivers this faithfully using book's hypersensitive description of Roquentin's everyday life experiences.
To grapple with something like this and convey it in a manner which us, non-philosophical, caught-up-in-our-lives people could relate to was totally unexpected. The book concludes with a ray of hope to justify one's existence while beating the curse of Existence. Contrasted to the sadness that ensues from a feeling of loss and loneliness, this ending was beautiful to witness. This book ends up being Roquentin's cry-for-battle against Existence, and Roquentin a character as memorable to me as The Stranger's Meursault - someone who questions the foundations of our notions about living.
Now let me get back to the superfluousness of my own life and let the Nausea recede...