Is He Mature, or Just Strange?

What is Albert Camus's take on maturity in The Stranger?

In light of the previous authors and their viewpoints of maturity, Albert Camus proposes a fascinating and unmatched interpretation of what it means to be mature in his novel The Stranger. Although The Stranger is a younger novel than any of Shakespeare's works, its publication date of 1942 is not so far off that of Tracks, which Louise Erdrich published in 1988. No, Camus's unique interpretation of maturity is not due to its fresh existence as a literary novel itself, but to the author's unique interpretation of life. Along a similar line of thinking as many existentialists, Camus introduces a character whose way of approaching his own world is so logical that no one in his own society understands him. These things about Meursault that separate himself from his peers- both how he thinks and what he does- are proof that a mature person accepts life's disorganized reality instead of fabricating meaning and purpose simply for the sake of feeling secure.
While Shakespeare and Erdrich prompted discussion about life's meaning and a person's purpose in their novels, even illustrating the concept of suicide due to a lack of purpose, never did they propose the idea that one's purpose and meaning in life comes only after an understanding that "nothing, nothing mattered" (Camus, 121). Camus explains that if one does not accept the brutal reality that life is random and his own actions are insignificant, then he is living in falseness. He is living a lie, and a mature person embraces the truth, even if that truth is an uneasy one. When a Chaplain confronts Meursault and attempts to convince him of his belief in God, Camus illustrates this point most clearly. The Chaplain, representing society, asks Meursault whether he really believes that "when you die, you die, and nothing remians?" (117)? Meursault's frank response of "yes" and his utter contentment with his answer knocks the Chaplain off his feet, and spirals him into an attempt to console himself: "No , I refuse to believe you! I know that at one time or another you've wished for another life" (119.) The Chaplain, like all of society, cannot understand how one can look at life without meaning at all, and walk away content. However, Camus does not believe that these other peoples' lives are meaningful, while Meursault's is meaningless. "Everybody knows life isn't worth living" (114), Camus explains, only most people choose to deny it. Thus, those who embrace the truth of reality as Meursault does are estranged, are misunderstood, and are even so far as eradicated because they do not adhere to the lie. At the end of the novel, Meursault's society condemns him to death, because they do not understand him. The idea that life is inherently without meaning, that there is no comforting explanation for the tragedies that may occur or the direction of one's own life, is an extremely difficult one to accept. Camus compares it to a "dark wind" that had been "rising toward (Meursault) from somewhere deep in his future" (121). And when it is realized, the wind "leveled whatever was offered to (Meursault) at the time, in years no more real than the ones (he) was living" (121). According to Camus, truth levels everything, because the truth of reality suggests that nothing is more significant than anything else. If it all is meaningless, then it is all on the same level. It takes maturity to see life for its brutal reality-- it takes strength, but the only other option is to live in foolishness, and Camus stresses that this is worse. For anyone who hopes to be mature, this is not an option. Although Camus's truth is a weighty one, it is not without hope. A life where everything is leveled is an open field, full of possibility up to the creator. When Meursault "opened (himself) to the gentle indifference of the world", he "felt happy" and found the world "like a brother" (122-123). According to Camus, refusing to believe the simple explanations of life that society offers and looking truth in the face is ultimately freeing, and is necessary to live a life of meaning at all. For if one is living a lie, how can he ever hope his life to be worth anything? It is better to accept what is true and run freely than to live confined in the fabricated walls of a lie.
Albert Camus in his novel The Stranger displays reality at its most basic premise: an existence that is disorganized-- one which many try to assign value to using various methods and explanations. In his portrayal of what is true about life, he conveys what is true about maturity: maturity accepts and embraces what is real, no matter how unsettling or difficult the truth may be. Yet Camus offers hope, for in truth there is freedom.