What is it about rereading Camus that makes one so pensive. So, this week I took up Part 2 of Camus’ magnum opus The Stranger. Part 2, which narrates the protagonist’s journey in prison and his trial, is queerly charming to me. It is a portrait of nihilism, the lack of connect the protagonist faces with society in general, and how he is largely held on trial for his morals than the crime. He is tried more for the lack of remorse he shows on his mother’s death, and how a death bell rings more for that than the crime he committed in cold blood. Quite predictably, he is sentenced to death, wondering over the nature of verdict, and its underlying absurdity. It is the role of god, universe’s inability to echo back our thoughts, and the meaningless of wholeness that defy the trial more than anything else.
I also took up The Fall once again, reeling under the Camus fever. He is quite understandably my author of Sweet November. I plan to read more of him, and also I encouraged myself to read The Brothers Karamazov. I don’t know how I am going to do it. It is a daunting read but something within me compels me to finish it. All for Dostoyevsky.
On another note, I had goosebumps this week, and I shed tears. Our women won a remarkable semi final match against nearly invincible Australia. For someone who has grown up consuming cricket, it was a moment of reckoning. It was against all odds, almost a David Vs Goliath, no wonder many are already calling it Indian women’s 1983 moment. Let us see what happens in the Sunday final. I already have my blue jersey on.
Cheers to the Indian team and that’s all for his Sunday!
Babe wake up HVD dropped a new banger!