Albert Camus didn't just write a book when he published L’Étranger (The Stranger) in 1942. He basically dropped a psychological bomb on the literary world that is still detonating today. You’ve probably heard of Meursault. He’s the guy who kills an Arab on a beach because the sun was too bright. Or maybe because he felt like it. Honestly, it depends on which literary critic you ask on which day of the week.
It’s a weird book.
The opening line is legendary, though often mistranslated. "Aujourd’hui, maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas." Most English versions go with "Mother died today," but that misses the point. It’s "Maman." It’s intimate, yet Meursault is so detached he can't even remember if she died today or yesterday. That’s the core of the whole thing. This guy isn't a villain in the traditional sense, but he isn't a hero either. He's just... there.
Why L'Étranger matters more than your high school teacher said
People love to talk about "The Absurd." It sounds fancy. It sounds like something you’d discuss while wearing a turtleneck in a smoky Parisian café. But Camus’s version of the absurd is actually pretty grounded. It’s the friction between us—humans who desperately want life to have a point—and the universe, which is stubbornly silent.
Meursault is the ultimate "stranger" because he refuses to play the game. He won't lie about his feelings to make other people feel better. When his girlfriend, Marie, asks if he loves her, he says it doesn't mean anything but he probably doesn't. Most of us would lie. We’d say, "Of course, honey." Meursault just shrugs.
This honesty is what actually gets him executed.
💡 You might also like: Why Your July 4th Party Ideas Are Probably Bored Out Of Their Minds
Think about the trial scene in the second half of the book. It’s surreal. He isn't really on trial for murder; he’s on trial because he didn't cry at his mother's funeral. The prosecutor spends more time talking about Meursault’s "callousness" toward his mother than the actual shooting. Society can handle a murderer, but it can't handle someone who doesn't follow the emotional script. It’s terrifying to people. If you don't cry when you're "supposed" to, you're a monster.
The setting: Why Algiers is a character itself
You can't separate L’Étranger from French Algeria. The heat is oppressive. It’s a physical weight in the prose. Camus uses the sun as a trigger for violence, which is a wild choice if you think about it. Usually, light represents truth or goodness. Here, it’s a blinding, hostile force that pushes Meursault over the edge.
- The beach is shimmering.
- The knife is glinting.
- The sweat is stinging his eyes.
Then, five shots. One, then a pause, then four more. That pause is everything. It’s the difference between a reflex and a choice, even if Meursault claims he had no choice.
There is also the massive elephant in the room: the victim. Known only as "The Arab," the man Meursault kills is never named. This has led to decades of post-colonial critique, most notably by Kamel Daoud in his book The Meursault Investigation. Daoud gives the victim a name—Moussa—and a family. It’s a necessary counter-perspective. Camus was writing from a Pied-Noir perspective, and the invisibility of the indigenous population in the novel reflects the colonial reality of the 1940s. It’s a flaw in the work, or perhaps a brutal reflection of the time, depending on how you read it.
The Absurd vs. Nihilism
Stop calling Meursault a nihilist. Seriously.
📖 Related: Walmart Lawn Mowers Gas Options: What Most People Get Wrong
Nihilism is the belief that nothing matters, so why bother? It’s dark and hopeless. The Absurd, according to Camus, is the realization that while the universe has no inherent meaning, we can still find joy in the "benign indifference" of the world.
At the end of the book, facing death, Meursault finally opens his heart to the universe. He’s happy. He’s free because he has accepted the truth of his existence. He doesn't need a god or a system of morality to tell him his life was valid. He lived it. That was enough. It’s a weirdly optimistic ending if you squint hard enough.
How to actually read L'Étranger today
If you’re picking it up for the first time, or the fifth, try to forget the "Classics" label. Read it as a noir thriller. It’s short. The sentences are punchy—Camus was heavily influenced by American writers like Hemingway and James M. Cain.
- Pay attention to the physical sensations. Notice how often Meursault mentions the weather, his physical discomfort, or the taste of food. He lives entirely in his body because his mind doesn't see the point in dwelling on the past or future.
- Watch the secondary characters. Raymond is a scumbag. Salamano and his dog are a tragic, weird reflection of human relationships. These people are all "performing" humanity, while Meursault is just observing.
- Don't try to like Meursault. You aren't supposed to. But try to see if you can find the moments where you've also felt like a stranger in your own life.
Real-world impact and legacy
Camus won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1957, largely on the strength of this and The Plague. Even today, L’Étranger remains one of the most-read French novels in the world. It’s a staple of philosophy 101 and literature 101 because it asks the one question we all eventually face: does any of this matter?
The book doesn't give you a "yes." But it doesn't give you a "no" either. It gives you a "maybe, so enjoy your coffee while it's hot."
📖 Related: Why a Short Veil 1 Layer is Actually the Smartest Bridal Choice Right Now
Actionable Insights for the Modern Reader
- Read the Matthew Ward translation. It’s generally considered the most "accurate" to Camus’s original intent, especially regarding that tricky first line.
- Pair it with The Meursault Investigation by Kamel Daoud. Reading these two back-to-back provides a vital perspective on the colonial context Camus left out.
- Reflect on your own "scripts." Identify one thing you do socially just because it's expected, even if you don't feel it. Camus would tell you to stop, though maybe don't go as far as Meursault did.
- Visit the "Camus sites" in Algiers. If you ever travel, seeing the actual landscape of Belcourt and the beaches nearby helps the sensory descriptions in the book click into place.
The power of the book isn't in its plot. It's in the way it makes you look at the person in the mirror and wonder if you're just as much of a stranger as he was.