Meursault has just received the news of his mother’s death. He cannot say that he mourn, but thinks it would have been better if she had not died. In his world nothing is meaningful. Life, death and love – nothing matters to him. A provocative attitude to life, which turns out to be expensive. The Stranger was written by the Nobel Prize winner Albert Camus in 1942 and the book about the young Meursault, who sleeps in the morgue next to his mother’s coffin without having said goodbye, is a classic. He lives his life without really taking active decisions. Most events just happen. Is he a stranger, or is he like us?
