The Meursault Investigation: A Novel

_The Stranger_ is the classic of existential lit. Daoud's novel is the parallel, antithetical, yet reduplicated story of the unnamed 'Arab' whom the anti-hero of Camus' novel kills. But, be warned - If you haven't read _The Stranger_ recently and haven't had to read it critically, then The Meursault Investigation will fall short. The brilliance of this novel is the layering that creates at first a contrast between Camus' Meursault and Daoud's narrator Harun, who tells the story of his dead brother Musa - 'the Arab' shot in Camus's novel -- but ultimately shows they are two sides of a single coin. Absence of a god versus the killing of god/religion; the death of an unnamed local by a privileged colonial vs the death of a colonial after the end of the war for independence; the failure of that war and independence to live up to the expectations of those who wanted better and how the victors destroyed their own world in that reach for freedom; and trials not for killing someone but for their failures of character -- these are some of the complex comparisons and contrasts Daoud explores as his narrator tells his tale in bar over a series of nights. We are eavesdroppers on an intimate conversation 70 years after the death of Musa. We only hear one side, but the interviewer carries his copy of _The Stranger_ (here presented as a factual account written by Meursault) and we can glean what it is he asks periodically. Harun is witty, and contemplative, but angry and obsessed, his entire life revolved around the incident of his brother's death and the book written about it. He is a hard man, and ultimately unsympathetic. There were moments where I wondered if his brother had been in fact the 'Arab' at all - that instead he became the substitute for the brother that disappeared and gave him a target for his righteous indignation at the colonists and the religious. This is the type of novel that provokes thought, and argument, but leaves no solution, ties up no threads, fills in no blanks. It is the type of novel that inspires critical papers and if I were still teaching high schoolers, I'd pair these two novels because, in the end, they enhance each other while simultaneously making us question both.

On the book jacket of this novel, a reviewer writes that The Meursault Investigation is "a worthy complement to its great predecessor" [Albert Camus' The Stranger]. I wouldn't go that far. Daoud's novel lacks the solid, strong existential and absurdist underpinnings of Camus's work. And, honestly, I almost gave up on the book after I'd read the first couple of chapters. Sort of gimmicky. A retelling of so many plot details from The Stranger, as well as references to so many of its characters (Salamano, Raymond, Marie, the robot lady, etc.). In addition, the post-colonial approach to decolonization, to cultural displacement and to being "unhomed" in one own country is familiar ground at this point in literature, including the "mimicry" of the subjugated individual who feels compelled to learn the language of his oppressors. I get it. What crept on me---slowly, gradually---was the subtle evolution of the novel's narrator Harun. Progressively, as this short novel unfolds, Harun starts sounding more and more like Camus' Meursault in his assaults on government officials, the judicial system, human hypocrisy, futility of effort, the stupidity of love, the absence of God, and how all religions falsify the weight of the world. And, like Meursault, I think that Harun steps into his true existential self only in the final pages of the novel. In a way---and this is why I ultimately came to appreciate the novel--- this is not the story of The Stranger from an Arab point of view--this is the more universal story of the absurd existence of all humankind, from Algeria to France to every corner of this weird and incomprehensible planet where we are all strangers to one another, and to ourselves. Where we are persecuted for not belonging to the group, for refusing to belong. And how clever Daoud sometimes is in this novel, like when he substitutes the Magistrate waving a crucifix in Merusault's face with the officer in the Army of National Liberation (waving the little Algerian flag in Harun's face and asking "Do you know what this is?"). An excellent transition that speaks volumes about authority, power and societal norms. And Harun hates Fridays (as Meursault hated Sundays) because of his aversion to Islamic rituals? Ouch! Intentionally or unintentionally, the murdered Musa in Daoud's novel becomes just as lost in the shuffle as the nameless Arab in The Stranger, as Daoud's investigation into the meaning of life broadens its scope. Also, what seems most interesting is Harun's relationship with his mother---so crippling and debilitating. I did not like Daoud's lengthy, verbatim borrowing of the text of the Stranger towards the end. It didn't quite work for me. I don't think that was necessary or effective. Still, the novel overall is well worth reading---much better also if you have already read The Stranger.

Clever premis but did drone on

Beautiful

THE MERSAULT INVESTIGATION (no francês original, “Mersault, contre-enquête”), do jornalista argelino Kamel Daoud, é, geralmente, chamado de uma releitura de O ESTRANGEIRO, de Albert Camus, mas eu acho que a palavra ‘resposta’ é mais honesta. Publicado na França em 2013, o romance dialoga com a obra original ao contar uma história a partir do ponto de vista daqueles que lá são silenciados. Aqui, o narrador/protagonista/foco narrativo é o irmão do personagem chamado apenas de O Árabe no livro original, que irá contar a história de vida de seu irmão e o que aconteceu com sua família depois do assassinato. A estrutura estabelece um diálogo do narrador com o leitor – que se materializa na figura de um estudante com quem ele conversa num bar (algo parecido com o que Moshin Hamid fez em THE RELUCTANT FUNDAMENTALIST). Num fluxo que combina diversos momentos do passado dele e sua família, ele vai e volta no tempo, e resgata numa intertextualidade discreta a narrativa do Estrangeiro. Daoud não faz de seu romance um espelho do de Camus, não, ele cria uma trama própria, mas que, a partir de agora, deve ser impossível reler o original sem ler este. Escrevendo em francês, Daoud toma a língua do colonizador para si, e faz dela o seu instrumento, esmiuçando um passado colonial, e um futuro e um presente de incertezas. No momento em que vivemos – especialmente com a xenofobia crescente – a voz do autor surge com força, levantando questionamentos e clamando uma revisão histórica. Creio que muita atenção se deu ao livro de Houellebecq, SUBMISSÃO, mas acho que esse, sim, é o livro importante, que merece ser lido e entrar para a posteridade. Está previsto para ser lançado no Brasil ainda esse ano.

The translator John Cullen may indeed have been a foremost translator, but his English grammar is irritatingly awful. Most odd!

Simultaneously demanding and captivating in all the best ways of literature.