Reading The Outsider, I was continuously disturbed by the narration of Meursault, the protagonist. In “Part 1” of the novel, Meursault’s apathy – his disconnect and disinterest in his mother’s funeral, in his relationship with Marie, and in the abuse of women and animals occurring in his building – left me with an intense dislike of the man. When Meursault shot the Arab man on the beach at the end of “Part 1”, I confess I wasn’t shocked. I’d been at the edge of my seat for the entire first half of the book. ‘Something has to happen’, I kept telling myself, ‘this, factual retelling of a week’s events, can’t be all there is to the book’. When I did finish “Part 1”, though, all I could think was ‘Why?’.
‘Why kill the man? Did Meursault know he was going to kill the man? Why shoot four more times after killing him?’ Of all of these questions, the third is to me the most chilling. The overkill, the absolute separation between Meursault and his victim despite their common humanity, and Meursault’s awareness that he has “rapped sharply, four times, on the fatal door of destiny” (Camus 54) confuse and appall me. I spent most of my time while reading “Part 2” looking for my answer – ‘Why? Why shoot four more times?’
From the trial, it seemed like even Meursault may not have fully understood his decision. Different criticisms suggest a wide range of motivations – a metaphoric, politically driven murder; a juvenile demand for attention; a symbolic killing to command the attention of the father figure, the sun; or even a satiric parody of the life and death of Jesus – but at the end of the novel, in Meursault’s final few lines, I found my answer.
Meursault says that he “opened himself up to the tender indifference of the world” and “[felt] it so like [him], so like a brother” (Camus 111). To me, this line explains why Meursault can describe the sun, the sea, and nature as a whole with the passion of a romantic when his descriptions of his relationship with Marie, his girlfriend, are so flat and factual. Meursault identifies with the Earth. He observes. He watches people, and he describes what he sees with the same energy another might person might describe their weekly grocery list. He feels more connected to the Earth, because of the kinship between them that he perceives, than he does to humanity.
So why did Meursault kill the Arab? Why did he fire four more times? You’d get a different answer from any student or published critic you ask, I think, but I propose it was because he didn’t feel that he was connected to the man. He may have felt remorse or regret or something when he killed the man, but not enough to overcome his apathy.