The Stranger

Albert Camus’ The Stranger is certainly one of the strangest books I’ve read in a long time. I absolutely loved it though—even if it only vaguely relates to my blog question. Is government necessary for the existence of peace? Not in this case. Meursault only appears to be tormented. He is questioned by society and labeled a “monster” for the crime he perpetuates and is not really given much of a second chance in court. I conclude that his indifference is what leads him to the guillotine; he is too lazy to defend himself and seems to have no motivation behind his murder. Only annoyance with the sun, he claims, is the spark that drives him to squeeze the trigger. Government has no part in maintaining peace from the perspective of Meursault. He is sane. He is not dangerous. He is simply careless. But of course society takes any action that results in the death of another man a threat to its own wellbeing. Meursault is ironically labeled a criminal and sentenced to death even though he does not have qualities of a killer (i.e. motivation, hate, creed, etc.). Government creates a peace by isolating one who creates disorder and chaos. For the majority, it is Meursault. I suppose it is up to the reader to decide whether or not Meursault’s imprisonment and subsequent death sentence are justifiable. If so, then government has done its job in establishing peace.

Crime and Punishment

Is government necessary for the existence of peace?

Once again, haven't seen that one in awhile.
There is little peace throughout Dostoevsky’s novel. Rodya is always in conflict. After the murder he commits, there's no turning back. He is tormented by his crime, constantly questioning himself and reevaluating his motives. His conscience is what leads to the most conflict in the story. Mentality governs Rodya, and it certainly does not foster peace with the man’s crazy behavior. Towards the end, however, things change. He is captured by love. The presence of Sonya convinces Raskolnikov to turn himself in to the authorities-- something he would have never done. The force which governs him is his attraction to Sonya—the one which propels him to new lengths and coerces him to accept the punishment of his crime. As with many other books I have touched on in this blog, my question can be answered both ways. From the first portion of the novel, the answer is most definitely no. Towards the end, however, Rodya undergoes a sort of transformation and begins to experience a kind of government which fosters peace. “But now in prision, in freedom, [Raskolnikov] thought over and criticized his actions again and by no means found them so blundering and so grotesque as they had seemed at the final time,” remarks the narrator, revealing Rodya’s transformed state. Rodya is finally free. Free of his impudent and persistent mind. Love has found itself a man and set free his conscience. This sort of government inevitably leads to peace.