Albert Camus's L'Etranger and Ernesto Sábato's El túnel

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY ALBERT CAMUS’S L’ETRANGER AND ERNESTO SÁBATO’S EL TÚNEL ARTHUR SCHERR CRITICS have done little more than briefly note Ernesto Sábato’s indebtedness to Albert Camus’s Meursault for the figure of the crazed artist Juan Castel in The Tunnel, first published in English in 1950 with the title The Outsider, the same title as Camus’s Stranger when it was first translated into English in 1948.1 Yet a careful examination of the two works leads to the conclusion that, in numerous ways, Castel and Meursault are mirror opposites in personality. Both men are “absurd” figures, living an isolated existence and unconnected with women in a meaningful way apart from their physical desire. This strange inverted likeness suggests that the character of Meursault may have influenced Sábato, though in a reverse direction, when he wrote El túnel. For instance, unlike Castel, Meursault is not insanely jealous in matters involving his paramour Marie. She is seriously attracted to him, wants to marry him, and is insulted when he appears unconcerned about where she goes after she leaves his apartment. Actually, he is curious about her destination, but he is timid about violating her privacy. Meursault is not angry either at her or his ephemeral friend, Raymond, when the latter displays his attraction to her and flirts with her. Many scholars, among them the philosopher Robert C. Solomon in a famous article in Philosophy and Literature, view Meursault’s passivity in such cases as proof that he lacks human feeling.2 This judgment seems incorrect. On the contrary, those of humanist or feminist inclinations might instead praise Meursault’s conduct, which respects women’s autonomy and refuses to encroach on their emotional freedom. 1 See Francis. 2 Solomon 141-159. See also Wagner. YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY 199 For women, Meursault’s attitude is certainly preferable to Juan Castel ’s possessiveness and his obsessive, insane jealousy of María, his demand that she tell him everything about her past love affairs and the intimate details of her sexual activities with her husband. He insists that she spend all her time with him. He finally draws the largely unwarranted conclusion that she is promiscuous and having an affair with her husband ’s cousin, which leads him to premeditatedly, insanely stab her to death. It is probably not coincidental that the name of the woman in Sábato’s novel is María, like Marie in Camus’s L’Etranger. In prison pondering his impending execution, Meursault thinks about Marie and muses, “outside of our two bodies which were now separated nothing bound us together” (144). Meursault avoids exaggerating the significance of sexual contact as being anything more than physical pleasure, although for him this is important. Castel, on the other hand, goes to the opposite extreme, obsessively and patriarchally maintaining that he must hold exclusive possession of María, not only sexually but by dominating her thoughts and monopolizing her time. For him, sexual contact with her – although it invariably initiated arguments between them, he seemingly forced it upon María, and we get the impression it was never very enjoyable for either of them—becomes the indispensable ceremony by which Castel shows his dominance over her, an empty ritual of their “love.” Unlike the obsessionally neurotic, probably psychotic Castel, Meursault maintains his equanimity throughout The Stranger until the priest comes and tries to convert him from atheism. This arouses his anger because the almoner’s hysterical nagging and homoerotic gestures disparage Meursault’s fear of death.3 Meursault is generally nonviolent, except for the sole instance of the novel’s deus ex machina, his murdering the Arab. Although Third World, “politically correct,” and Muslim critics often assert that by shooting the Arab, Meursault displays Western man’s contempt for Arab personhood, the fact remains that the Arab was brandishing a knife, although he apparently was lying supine on the ground when Meursault shot him.4 His act might arguably be considered 200 ROMANCE NOTES 3 A contrary view is maintained by psychoanalyst Sue Grand, who, in a similar manner to Solomon and Wagner, views Meursault as what she calls an “autistic-contiguous” personality , unable to feel...