Reports of his death were met with sadness and disbelief. He was, to many, one of the greatest writers of his generation. Obsessing about the meaning of life, he delivered works along an existential vein. And, at the time of this death, it appeared that his best work was yet to come (at least he thought so).
According to The Guardian, there may have been more to the car accident that killed him than we'd been led to believe. Could it be that the KGB tampered with the vehicle? It sounds farfetched, but it's still an intriguing tidbit. And, it adds an embellishment of color and controversy to a life already en-mired with struggle. What meaning can we find in this latest news? Of life? Of literature?
So, what do we know of him?
Albert Camus was a French/African novelist, essayist and playwright. One of his most famous claims to fame was his novel, The Plague (1948). His body of work included The Stranger (1946), , The Rebel (1954) and The Myth of Sisyphus (1955). And, for all the interwoven stories of life's meaning and humanity's struggles, he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. The committee cited "his important literary production, which with clear-sighted earnestness illuminates the problems of the human conscience in our times"...
In The Plague, Camus wrote: "Death means nothing to men like me. It's the event that proves them right."
He also wrote, "I've seen enough people who die for an idea. I don't believe in heroism; I know it's easy and I've learnt it can be murderous. What interests me is living and dying for what one loves."
His death was tragic--whether he was assassinated or killed in a car accident. He appeared to have more to contribute; but his life was cut short. What other works might he have created? How would they compare? Two years before his death, he wrote, "I continue to be convinced that my work hasn't even been begun."
Comments
Perhaps an exercise in futility… but I have been struggling with my own translation of “L’Etranger” for several years now.
To me it is the story of a man who is “numb”.. why he is numb.. Camus never really explains.
It is full of French/Algerian idiom.. hard to read.
Sometimes, the struggle is part of what makes a novel great… in and out of translation.
And, one intriguing part of literature is: the author really doesn’t have to explain anything (particularly not in more current literature). The author may hint, may provide textual evidence, may offer advice or ideas on reading (in or out of the text)… and then we (as readers) can always attempt to understand and decipher meaning.
Owing to his premature death, one may be led to believe that his best was yet to come. This is pure cojecture with no possibility of certainty.
But the work Camus did leave behind is rich and vast enough to make one suppose that his subsequent work would have only added to what was already there; he had already done a lot.
The fact that Camus himself believed his best years were ahead is not of much import here. My guess is he’d have spent time writing an autobiography or less-original works. Greatness has its limits.
Ms Lombardi, thank you for mentioning this book. I haven’t read this in years, and I will now be digging out my copy from the bookcase to read again.