I didn’t dare reading Camus until I turned 28.
I was afraid it would be too heavy, too grim, too deep (too French?). I was wrong.
One of those books (many, lately) that I couldn’t
put down. One character more interesting than the other (my favourite being,
clearly, Tarrou, with his fight against the Francoists in Spain and against the
epidemic in Algeria). Without needing to analyze the book as a metaphor of the
struggles of everyone’s lives, or of the evils of the 20th century,
this is simply one of the greatest stories ever told.
As I read it I kept on trying to portray myself
as Tarrou, or as Dr Rieux. Like a little boy, I really wish I could “do the
right thing” in the same way as they did in the novel (and, unlike in Spike Lee’s
movie, here, it is quite clear what the right thing actually is)
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