Meursault, an ordinary little clerk living in Algiers, leads a quiet and unemotional life. He commits a senseless murder and is convicted, his lack of emotion toward his mother's death weighing against him. As he contemplates his execution, he considers the value of life and is on the verge of exhibiting feeling.
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The streetcars which a few minutes before had been crowded were now almost
empty. In the little cafe, Chez Pierrot, beside the tobacconist's, the waiter was
sweeping up the sawdust in the empty restaurant. A typical Sunday afternoon.
There were little pools of brightness under the lamps, and now and then a
streetcar passed, lighting up a girl's hair, or a smile, or a silver bangle. Soon after
this, as the streetcars became fewer and the sky showed velvety black above the
He told me he'd been having a roughhouse with a fellow who'd annoyed him. "I'm
not one who looks for trouble," he explained, "only I'm a bit short-tempered. That
fellow said to me, challenging-like, 'Come down off that streetcar, if you're a ...
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LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - AngelaJMaher - www.librarything.com
I wasn't sure what to think when I first started reading this. It initially didn't feel worthy of the fuss, but as it enters the second part, it becomes a book that makes you think. Why are some ... Read full review
LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - drardavis - www.librarything.com
Spoiler alert! Not that it matters anyway, but don’t read this review if you don’t already know how it all ends. The Stranger is a perfect book, with a flawed philosophy. Camus is a liar. If he really ... Read full review