You're sitting in a cafe, looking at a glass of water or maybe a fork, and suddenly everything feels... wrong. Not "I might be getting a cold" wrong, but "why does this object even exist and why am I looking at it" wrong. That’s the core of the nausea novel Jean Paul Sartre gifted to the world in 1938. It’s not about food poisoning. It’s about the terrifying realization that the world is just there, and it doesn't owe us an explanation.
Honestly, Nausea (or La Nausée) is a weird book. It’s written as the diary of Antoine Roquentin, a guy living in a fictional French town called Bouville, which literally translates to "Mud Town." Nice, right? He’s there to write a biography of an 18th-century aristocrat, but he keeps getting distracted by this creeping feeling of disgust. He picks up a pebble on the beach and has to drop it because it feels too "real." He looks at a chestnut tree root and starts spiraling because the root is just existing so hard it feels aggressive.
What is the Nausea Actually About?
Most people think existentialism is just about being sad and wearing black turtlenecks. It’s not. Sartre was trying to describe a very specific psychological and philosophical event. He calls it "The Nausea." It happens when the labels we put on things—"chair," "tree," "friend"—fall away, leaving behind the raw, naked existence of the thing itself.
Roquentin realizes that objects don't have a "reason" to be. They are "superfluous." He uses the word de trop. Everything is just extra. If you’ve ever looked at your own hand until it started looking like a strange, fleshy claw that doesn't belong to you, you've had a tiny taste of what Sartre is talking about. It’s the collapse of the "human" layer we paint over the world.
The Problem with the Self-Taught Man
One of the best characters in the nausea novel Jean Paul Sartre wrote is the Self-Taught Man (the Autodidacte). This guy is spending years in the local library, reading every single book in alphabetical order. He thinks he can understand the world through facts and "humanism." Sartre mocks him. Why? Because the Self-Taught Man is trying to find a pre-packaged meaning in the world instead of facing the scary truth: we have to invent our own meaning.
✨ Don't miss: Williams Sonoma Deer Park IL: What Most People Get Wrong About This Kitchen Icon
Sartre hated the idea that we are born with a "purpose." He called this "Existence precedes Essence." A letter opener is made with a purpose—to open letters. Its essence comes first. But humans? We just show up. We exist first, and then we have to figure out what the hell we are. That sounds like freedom, but to Roquentin, it feels like a weight. It’s a dizzying kind of freedom.
Why Does Bouville Feel So Suffocating?
The setting of the novel is huge. Sartre based Bouville on Le Havre, where he actually taught for a while. The city is full of "The Leaders"—the local elite who think they are important because they have titles or money. Roquentin visits a portrait gallery and looks at these dead "great men." He calls them "salauds" (bastards).
He hates them because they pretend their lives are necessary. They act like the universe needed them to be mayors or generals. Sartre is basically calling out anyone who hides behind a job title or a social status to avoid the "nausea" of their own groundless existence.
- The cafe scenes are legendary.
- The music—specifically a jazz record of "Some of These Days"—is the only thing that gives Roquentin relief.
- Art, unlike a tree root, is "necessary" because it’s a human creation that exists outside of raw, messy nature.
The Famous Chestnut Tree Scene
If you only remember one thing about the nausea novel Jean Paul Sartre wrote, it’s probably the tree. Roquentin sits in a park and stares at a knotty root. He realizes that the word "root" is just a thin veneer. Underneath, there is a "soft, monstrous mass, abandoned in frightful, naked disorder."
🔗 Read more: Finding the most affordable way to live when everything feels too expensive
This is where the "nausea" hits its peak. He feels like existence is "thick." It’s like the world is pressing in on him. It’s a visceral, almost physical reaction to the fact that there is no God, no grand plan, and no logic to the physical world. It just is.
It’s easy to dismiss this as "emo" or overly dramatic. But think about the time Sartre was writing. The late 1930s. Europe was sliding toward another world war. The old structures of meaning were falling apart. People were desperate for a sense of purpose, and Sartre was there to tell them that they wouldn't find it in a book or a church. They had to find it in themselves.
Is the Novel Actually Depressing?
Kinda. But also, not really. By the end of the nausea novel Jean Paul Sartre offers a tiny sliver of hope. Roquentin decides to leave Bouville. He realizes he can't find meaning in the past (the biography he was writing). He decides he might try to write something else—something "hard and dazzling like steel" that would make people ashamed of their existence.
He's talking about art.
💡 You might also like: Executive desk with drawers: Why your home office setup is probably failing you
For Sartre, art is a way to "justify" existence. While a tree just grows because it has to, a book or a song is a choice. It’s a way to take the messy, pointless sludge of life and turn it into something structured. It’s not a "cure" for the nausea, but it’s a way to live with it.
Common Misconceptions About Nausea
People often get these things wrong:
- It’s a manual for suicide. Absolutely not. Sartre was an activist. He believed in engagement. If life has no inherent meaning, that means you are 100% responsible for the meaning you create. That’s an empowering, if exhausting, idea.
- Roquentin is Sartre. Sorta. Sartre definitely felt these things, but Roquentin is more like a "case study" of what happens when you have the realization but haven't yet figured out how to act on it.
- It's just about atheism. It’s deeper. Even an atheist can live a "fake" life by pretending their career or their family gives them an "essence." Sartre is attacking all forms of "Bad Faith" (mauvaise foi).
How to Handle Your Own Existential Nausea
If you've read the nausea novel Jean Paul Sartre and now the world feels a bit too "thick" and weird, you're actually on the right track according to existentialism. The goal isn't to get rid of the feeling; it's to use it as a starting point.
Stop trying to find "The Meaning of Life" in a self-help book or a corporate mission statement. Those are just more labels. Instead, lean into the fact that you are "condemned to be free."
Actionable Steps for the Existentially Overwhelmed:
- Audit your "Bad Faith": Where are you doing things just because "that's what a person like me does"? Identify one area where you’re following a script rather than making a choice.
- Embrace the "Some of These Days" approach: Find a piece of art—a song, a poem, a painting—that feels "necessary" to you. Use it as an anchor when the world feels like pointless "mud."
- Stop looking for signs: The universe isn't sending you messages. If you want a sign, you have to choose something and decide it's a sign. That's your power.
- Read the original text: Translations vary. The Lloyd Alexander translation is a classic, but the newer ones often capture Sartre's grime and grit more effectively.
Sartre's work reminds us that the "nausea" is actually the beginning of real life. It's the moment the training wheels fall off. It’s terrifying, but it’s also the only way to be truly honest about what it means to be a human being in a world that doesn't care about you. Once you accept that you are "superfluous," you can finally start deciding who you actually want to be.