Albert Camus
Albert Camus (1913-1960) was a Franco-Algerian novelist, short story writer, playwright, essayist, journalist, and philosopher who was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1957, when he was 44 years old. He was the second-youngest to win the Nobel for a life-body of work, the first being Rudyard Kipling in 1907 (Kipling was 41 at the announcement). Camus and Kipling make an interesting coincidental pair, since both of their careers were engagements with colonialism, its consequences tragic or strengthening or both. Camus during his lifetime and certainly after his death was hunted by categorical thinkers to capture, cage, and display him as identified as the representative of this or that -ism. He always eludes them. He was an artist, a political man, a newsman, and a wonderfully complex human being.
I will gradually add associated writers, sometimes friends of his (Beauvoir), sometimes later writers who intertwine a work with Camus’s legacy (Daoud). His too-short life, ended by a car wreck, was in the midst of a dramatic time. I don’t think he would want to be isolated from it or his fellow travelers.
A Happy Death
A Happy Death
In his first novel, A Happy Death, written when he was in his early twenties and retrieved from his private papers following his death in I960, Albert Camus laid the foundation for The Stranger, focusing in both works on an Algerian clerk who kills a man in cold blood. But he also revealed himself to an extent that he never would in his later fiction. For if A Happy Death is the study of a rule-bound being shattering the fetters of his existence, it is also a remarkably candid portrait of its author as a young man.
As the novel follows the protagonist, Patrice Mersault, to his victim’s house — and then, fleeing, in a journey that takes him through stages of exile, hedonism, privation, and death -it gives us a glimpse into the imagination of one of the great writers of the twentieth century. For here is the young Camus himself, in love with the sea and sun, enraptured by women yet disdainful of romantic love, and already formulating the philosophy of action and moral responsibility that would make him central to the thought of our time.
Translated from the French by Richard Howard