The Stranger, Albert Camus

It’s a quick read, but it lingers. Whether you see the main character, Meursault, as a nihilist or a truth-teller, this book forces you to question the scripts we blindly follow.

The novel grabs your attention with its infamous opening line: “Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday, I don’t know.” Right away, you get a sense of the protagonist Meursault’s detached, almost robotic outlook on life. He’s a Frenchman living in Algiers who doesn’t cry at his mother’s funeral, starts a casual fling the next day, and ultimately commits a senseless murder on the beach under the sun.  What makes the book compelling is its stark, minimalist style. No flowery prose, just blunt observations that mirror Meursault’s indifference. Camus isn’t here to spoon-feed you philosophy, but the novel quietly wrestles with big questions: Is life meaningless? Why do we cling to societal rituals? Meursault’s trial becomes less about the crime and more about his refusal to play along with emotional expectations. 

You may find Meursault frustrating (why doesn’t he care?), but that’s the point. He’s a stranger to his own society, exposing the absurdity of human constructs like love, justice, and religion. The ending, Meursault finally embraces life’s gentle indifference. It’s oddly liberating.