In the words of his fellow French philosopher (and often
rival) Jean-Paul Sartre, the novel The
Fall (1956) by Albert Camus is "perhaps the most beautiful and the least
understood" of his works. I love the cautionary disclaimer of “perhaps”
thrown in there for good measure because Sartre at the time was still at odds
with his one-time friend who had tragically died in a car accident.
Notwithstanding, the other parts of the sentence certainly ring true as The Fall is not as read nor hotly
discussed and debated as opposed to the more known and celebrated works of Albert Camus, such
as The Stranger (1942) or The Myth of Sisyphus (1942).
In
my view, The Fall is not his best
novel; that honour I would bestow upon the exemplary The Plague (1947), but I found the ideas expressed in his last work
of fiction to be of great interest and relevance for existential philosophy. There
are many themes that are dealt with in the form of dramatic monologues by
Jean-Baptiste Clamence, a self-proclaimed judge-penitent who has fallen from
grace. Once a reputable lawyer who (supposedly) used to help the poor and
widowed, he ends up sick and lonely in an apartment in Amsterdam.
When Clamence started off helping widows and orphans, he
was highly respected by his peers and society in general. However, he did not
lead an authentic life. He may have helped the blind cross the street and shown
many other good deeds in front of others, but deep inside he had done so only
for attention and acknowledgement. His actions were self-interested and, worse,
they hardly reflected his true inner disposition and feelings, which in fact
tended towards its opposite direction, ranging from disinterest to even disgust
of his fellow beings.
One night, while walking down the streets of Paris, he
notices a young distraught girl by the Seine. He pays her no notice. She jumps
and cries for help but instead of coming to her rescue, he quickens his steps
and deafens his ears; he even refuses to read about her fate the next day in
the papers.
Yet this event remains in his memory and literally
resurfaces a number of times in the novel. The most persistent haunt is an
indiscriminate laugh (the derisory voice of conscience) that he hears on
various occasions, which he feels is aimed at him. In such a way, he carries with
him his share of guilt over his refusal to act and potentially save the girl’s
life.
Actions are an important part of existential philosophy;
they are meant to propel us towards engaging with life in a chaotic and desolate
world. After the indelible horrors of World War II, people had lost faith in traditional forms and pillars of meaning, such as God and religion, while
humanity, warts and all, had come into sharper focus. Valuable and veritable
action existed in helping others and it was considered a manner of alleviating suffering and injustice both of which abounded in the world around us.
Moreover, actions served as standards of judging and
evaluating a life; a good and decent person was not one that merely prayed to
the heavens or asked God for forgiveness, but one who physically made the world
a better place. In that sense, morality should be expressed in tangible forms
and not serve as mere thoughts or an empty mouthpiece; put differently,
ideology ought to be enmeshed with actions.
Essentially, we are free but that comes with a price. We
need to take responsibility for our deeds and we will be judged by others as
well as judge ourselves in the process. The problem is that we all carry guilt
with us and none of us are innocent, according to Camus. The fact that the
world cannot give us pre-packaged bits of truth and meaning but that we have to
figure it all out for ourselves makes the whole endeavor more difficult and
cumbersome.
That is the reason, why Clamence is a judge-penitent. He
judges both himself and others, while he repents his own actions and lack
thereof. The other issue that complicates matters is that people generally do
not lead authentic lives; they are either dishonest towards others, themselves
or even a combination of both. Clamence claims to know the truth and that
elevates him over others, but he is still caught up in the sticky web of the
world as he cannot exist without others.
Existential guilt has been explored in other works, most
memorably in Franz Kafka’s The Process
in which its protagonist K. gets arrested one morning despite being innocent of
any specific crimes. It is the guilt of humanity, the mark of the cross on
Cain’s forehead that makes him guilty despite feeling or believing to be
innocent. We cannot disassociate ourselves from this, but we can try our best
to face it and then deal with it as best we can.
Nobody is exempt of this guilt, not even Jesus. Why did
Jesus so quickly give himself up to the authorities knowing that we would face
death? Believers may say that it is to purge the world of its sins with his
blood, but Camus claims that Jesus was not the innocent sheep himself. On the
Day of Innocents, Herod sent out his army to kill infants and children, while
Jesus managed to escape with the help of an angel. Although essentially cleared
of any wrongdoing himself, Jesus must have felt pangs of conscience that so
many innocent children had died instead as well as because of him.
This could be the reason why Jesus did not put up a
fight and quickly gave in when the time came. This would also, according to
Camus, explain his cry to God, why He had forsaken him, a doubt not only in the
Deity’s possible non-existence but also an accusation of not interfering with
the slaughter of many innocent people. This information, these particular lines
of lament and accusation had been, however, suppressed (censured) by all gospel
accounts, with the exception of Mark.
Camus then engages in a bit of pun and wordplay,
which unfortunately loses its impact in translation. Despite all the somber philosophy, there is substantial amount of humor in his writing. Jesus chose
his apostle Peter to be the founder of the church. Yet it was Peter (Pierre in
French) who would betray him three times, and yet he was supposed to be the
rock (“pierre”) of the Church. Jesus must have been aware of the delicate irony
of the situation, says Clamence.
The novel is also surprisingly frank and forthcoming
about sexuality, especially considering the time it was written, namely a few
years before the so-called sexual revolution. Clamence decries the double
standards and hypocrisy of society and he claims to bed both respectable women
as well as prostitutes in the same hotel bed!
Moreover, he says that when he engaged in debauchery,
namely sex and alcohol, all it did was help him forget about the guilt and pain
for a while. In such moments, he would manage to lose himself and find some
temporary comfort and relief. Yet such actions were not a sign or expression of
freedom but rather a form of evading responsibility and action as one would
become enslaved to them and eventually still wake up to an unchanged situation
of existential guilt and suffering.
In a world where excess and debauchery are often viewed
as the ultimate forms of pleasure and enjoyment as well as a carefree existence
and life of freedom, it is interesting to note that all of this is merely another
form of escapism. True permanent pleasure cannot be gained from such vapid and
superficial experiences or lifestyles.
On its face value, existentialist philosophy may seem
pessimistic, especially with its heavy reliance on guilt and loss of innocence.
Yet what I like best about this branch of philosophy is the fact that it gives
us something to hold onto. This something may be vague and not clearly defined,
but it forces us to become who we are and to face the world as genuinely as
possible. In all of this, our deeds speak louder than our words and we cannot
isolate ourselves from others but must interact and exist with them.
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