Have you ever finished a book and felt like something wasn't quite right? Maybe the main character did something awful, but they didn't seem to care. That's a feeling you might get from reading the works of Albert Camus(1913-1960) a French-Algerian journalist, playwright, novelist, philosophical essayist, and Nobel laureate. Based on the success of his three novels—The Stranger, The Plague, and The Fall—as well as his two book-length philosophical essays—The Myth of Sisyphus and The Rebel—he had established a worldwide readership and reputation by the middle of the century. He made a name for himself by introducing and developing two philosophical concepts in these works: the idea of the absurd and the idea of rebellion.

The Stranger: Indifference in the Face of Murder

Camus's most famous novel, The Stranger, throws us headfirst into the world of Meursault, a man seemingly devoid of conventional emotions. The story opens with the death of Meursault's mother, followed by a seemingly emotionless act - he kills an Arab man on a scorching afternoon. What truly throws us off is Meursault's lack of remorse. He's condemned not for the murder itself, but for his indifference to societal expectations. He doesn't cry at his mother's funeral, doesn't seem particularly upset about the killing, and simply goes about his life.

"It was as if that blinding light had gotten inside of me. Everything became clear, sharp, glaring, and even painful to the eyes. On the beach, opposite me, there were little white houses, all alike, baked by the sun. A sea of blue silk, rippling slightly under the breeze, stretched out between sky and sand. Then I felt it. It was coming up from somewhere deep inside of me, rising out of the bottomless well of my childhood, the source of all my indifference to life and death of days without memories and nights without sleep." (The Stranger, Albert Camus)

Meursault's actions and narration reveal his indifference towards societal expectations. He doesn't cry at his mother's funeral, doesn't shy away from describing the murder in a detached way, and openly expresses his lack of belief in God or societal values. This, in a way, is a confession of his outsider perspective. Meursault's indifference is a coping mechanism for the absurdity of life. By detaching himself emotionally, he avoids facing the meaningless reality of existence. It could be argued that Meursault's lack of guilt is indicative of his lack of character. Basic empathy and remorse are necessary for morality, even in an absurd world.

The Fall: The Torment of Self-Inflicted Guilt

The Fall proceeds with his distinct fascination with the subject of responsibility, this time using a fixated storyteller with it. In the wake of a seemingly minor incident, the well-known Jean-Baptiste Clamence, a voice in the wilderness calling for clemency and forgiveness, is tortured by guilt. While walking home one drizzly November evening, he shows little concern and practically no profound response by any means to the self-destructive dive of a young lady into the Seine. But as time went on, the incident started to gnaw at him, and he eventually came to see his inaction as a huge failure of human compassion and part of a long pattern of personal vanity. He gradually enters a metaphorical hell, consumed by guilt and self-pity. He is now a self-described "judge-penitent"—a combination of a sinner, a tempter, a prosecutor, and a father-confessor—who goes to his local haunt, a sailor's bar near Amsterdam's red light district, where he tells his story to anyone who will listen, somewhat in the style of Coleridge's Ancient Mariner. He declares his crucial insight that, despite our hypocrisy of decency, we are all guilty.

"That's the whole thing—I judge myself! That's why I need witnesses. One can't judge oneself." (The Fall, Albert Camus)

As a result, no human being has the authority to render an individual's final moral verdict.

Unlike Meursault's indifference, Clamence is consumed by guilt, not for a specific act, but for the inauthenticity of his past life. He becomes fixated on his past transgressions, unable to find solace or escape the prison of his own judgment. Clamence's self-inflicted torment highlights the destructive nature of guilt when it becomes all-consuming.

The Plague: From Individual to Collective Responsibility

In "The Plague," the weight of individual guilt is magnified by the backdrop of a collective crisis. Characters are caught in an outbreak. Security forces barricade the city without warning and prevent anyone from leaving. Oran residents have no way to contact friends and family outside the city, and routes are too busy for most old-fashioned phone calls. You don't even have to send letters to avoid spreading microscopic bacteria through paper or stamps. “exile in one’s own home.”

"In short, there were no longer any individual destinies, but a collective history that was the same for all and in which the only significant elements were the most general ones. Thus, for instance, a feeling normally as individual as the ache of separation from those one loves suddenly became a feeling in which all shared alike and together with fear-the greatest affliction of the long period of exile that lay ahead." - Albert Camus, "The Plague"

Camus interlaces the theme of collective responsibility throughout the narrative, illustrating how individual actions ripple through the fabric of society during times of crisis. Dr. Bernard Rieux, the novel's protagonist, embodies the struggle against the plague while wrestling with the guilt of not doing enough. His unwavering dedication to treating the sick and dying reflects a sense of individual responsibility, yet he grapples with the realization that his efforts alone cannot stem the tide of the epidemic.

"It may seem a ridiculous idea, but the only way to fight the plague is with decency." - Albert Camus, "The Plague"

Decency encapsulates the ethical dilemma faced by the characters. Each decision, whether it involves enforcing quarantine measures or providing medical aid, carries moral weight and implicates the entire community. Rieux's insistence on upholding decency amidst the chaos underscores the importance of maintaining one's humanity even in the darkest of times.

Camus highlights the interconnectedness of guilt and accountability, suggesting that the consequences of one's choices extend far beyond the individual. Whether through acts of heroism or moments of moral ambiguity, each character in "The Plague" navigates their own culpability in the face of an existential threat.

In Conclusion,Albert Camus's exploration of guilt in The Stranger, The Plague, and The Fall challenges our conventional understanding of this emotion. We see characters like Meursault who act immorally without feeling guilt, characters like those in The Plague who grapple with a sense of collective responsibility, and Clamence, who drowns in self-inflicted guilt.

The true value of exploring guilt in Camus's works lies in the questions it raises, prompting us to examine our own moral compasses and the role guilt plays in shaping who we are.