A Stranger, Even to Myself by shannon

A Stranger, Even to Myself by shannon - April 2014 Scholarship Essay

As the blazing sun beats down on Meursault’s back all he can think of is the heat. The only sensation he feels is its burn, not fear, not even anger. He pulls the trigger of the gun out of necessity not because of any personal feelings; he kills a man because he can. Meursault from Albert Camus’s The Stranger has greatly influenced me and my outlook on life. His inability to express himself and let others know his true personality makes me want to understand myself better and how I appear to others.

Camus’s character Meursault is misunderstood by everyone around him. Sadly he does not understand how to show those around him how he feels if he feels anything at all. At his mother’s funeral he was judged for not crying and just staring at her body. People assumed he was cold because he placed her in a home and never came to see her when he simply couldn't bear her staring. He also comes off as someone who does not seem to care about what happens in his life. He just goes along with others’ decisions because it’s easier than disagreeing. At one point he agrees to marry his long time girlfriend not out of love but because she asked. It was only logical that they would get married. All of these drawbacks work against him when he is on trial for the murder. The jurors perceive him as an unremorseful cold-blooded killer. Unfortunately, Meursault’s inability to say no and express how he feels is his downfall and ultimately he is sentenced to death for murder.

Meursault’s influence on me was not one I wanted to realize but needed to. From reading The Stranger and seeing Meursault’s struggle with himself I understood my worst enemy wasn’t some angry classmate but myself. Before this book it never registered or rather it never bothered me how people perceived me. I was overly emotional, which meant on a good day I was the happiest person one could meet, but on a bad day it wasn’t uncommon for me to lose a few friends. My main priority was never to please anyone but myself which is where Meursault and I differ. He couldn’t let his feelings out and I couldn’t keep mine in or under control. I was always either freakishly happy or living in a black hole of depression. There was no healthy median. Fortunately, it didn’t take me the death penalty or a dramatic event to realize my problem. Reading through Meursault’s downward spiral of indifference I realized how much simpler it is to be a little indifferent.

His influence on me was well overdue. Instead of throwing myself into fits of anger and depression I calmly squeezed my stress doll and dealt with any problem that came my way. For months my tiny school bus stress doll worked overtime. The cracks were so large the back wheels fell off. Until one day I just didn’t need it anymore. I could express myself without over expressing myself. No one enjoys being around anyone who is just too happy or too sad, and of course, from time to time I slip back into my eccentric ways but then I remember Meursault and the final scenes of his life.