10 Ways to View Meursault: The Absurd Hero or the Universe’s Personification?

Albert Camus. © Wiki Commons

I first read The Stranger 20 years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. The book took me less than 3 hours. (I paused to eat a piece of cake.)

I couldn’t put the damn thing down, even though I low key hated it.

Felt like I was drowning in some half-drunk haze, watching this guy, Meursault, just drift through life.

No big existential freak-out, no searching for some hidden meaning in a broken world.

Just a guy, empty as a beer can in the trash, walking around like life was some bad joke he didn’t even care enough to laugh at.

So, yeah, let’s dissect this Meursault.

Is he the ultimate absurd hero, or is he just the universe wearing a human skin?

1. Meursault: The Absurd Hero?

Let’s cut through the crap. Meursault isn’t some heroic figure, not in the way they try to sell you in all those feel-good stories.

He doesn’t lead revolutions, he doesn’t fight for the oppressed. No, Meursault is the guy sitting on the side of the road, looking at the parade go by, wondering if he should even get up.

He’s what Camus calls an “absurd hero,” but this hero doesn’t give a damn about being a hero. He’s a hero in the way a rock in the middle of a river is a hero.

It’s there, it doesn’t move, and that’s the end of it. Life’s a circus, and Meursault is sitting in the stands, drinking a beer, watching the freak show like it’s nothing more than background noise.

2. The Universe’s Indifference

Now, the thing about Meursault that plays with your head is how much he reflects the universe itself.

Camus is all about the absurd—the idea that the universe doesn’t give a rat’s ass about us.

It’s indifferent. And Meursault? He doesn’t just recognize that; he becomes it. He’s like a walking, breathing representation of cosmic apathy.

His mother dies, and he can’t bring himself to care. His girlfriend, Marie? He’s not in love with her, but he’ll have sex with her just because that’s what you do.

When he kills a guy on the beach, it’s like flicking a fly off his shoulder. No real reason, just an action dictated by the heat and the stupid circumstances surrounding him.

He doesn’t choose indifference; it’s just all he knows, because the universe doesn’t offer him anything else.

3. Meursault vs. The Rebel

Camus’ The Rebel is a different animal. It’s about standing up to the absurd. It’s about fighting against the indifference of the universe and creating meaning through rebellion.

But Meursault? He’s got no rebellion in him. He doesn’t even acknowledge the absurdity of life until it slaps him across the face.

He doesn’t care enough to fight back, to find meaning in anything. It’s not that he’s above the absurd—he’s just indifferent to it, like a guy who’s too drunk to care about the mess he’s made.

He’s not a rebel—he’s a victim of his own apathy, too busy sitting in his own mind to even notice there’s a fight happening.

4. The Struggle of the Absurd: Meursault’s Sisyphus

Here’s the thing, though. You could say Meursault is Camus’ Sisyphus, the guy doomed to push a rock up a hill only for it to roll back down again.

It sounds tragic, right? But the thing about Sisyphus is that he’s stuck in an endless struggle.

Meursault, though? He’s not struggling. He’s not pushing anything. He’s lying in the sun, watching the world go by, and letting the absurdity of it all wash over him.

There’s no tension, no fight. It’s just a man drifting through life like a leaf in the wind, not even trying to swim against the current. He doesn’t rebel against the absurd, he accepts it, even if that means he’s doomed to wander aimlessly. It’s not tragic, it’s just pointless.

5. The Existential Void of Empathy

Meursault’s greatest sin—if you can even call it that—is his complete lack of empathy. His mother dies, and he’s like, “Yeah, whatever.” He doesn’t cry, doesn’t mourn. He doesn’t care. And his relationships? Nothing more than passing distractions. Marie? Sure, he likes her body, but there’s no deeper connection. It’s just physical, like a habit he can’t really be bothered to question. Meursault isn’t a monster; he’s just… empty. He doesn’t even understand the concept of empathy because the idea of caring about someone else’s suffering is foreign to him. It’s as if he’s operating in a world where everyone’s just a backdrop to his own indifference.

6. The Absurdity of His Crime

When Meursault shoots a man on the beach, people like to get all deep about it. But let’s be honest—it’s a farce.

He doesn’t kill because of some great moral failing. He kills because the sun’s too hot and the day’s been too long. He’s not a murderer in the traditional sense.

He’s just a guy who reacts to the world with the same blank stare he gives everything else. The universe doesn’t make sense, so why should he?

The act itself is absurd—pointless, chaotic, and ultimately meaningless. It’s a crime, sure, but it’s not one that makes sense in any traditional sense of justice. It’s just an absurd act in an absurd world.

7. Meursault’s Lack of Introspection

What makes Meursault such a fascinating/annoying character is his lack of introspection. The dude doesn’t look inside himself—hell, he doesn’t even think about the world around him until it’s too late.

By the time he’s sitting in a prison cell, condemned for a crime he barely remembers committing, he starts to “understand” the absurdity of life.

But even then, it’s not a grand revelation. It’s not a lightbulb moment. It’s just him coming to terms with the fact that life is meaningless and that he’s always known it.

It’s almost like he didn’t need to do any soul-searching. He’s been floating through life with the same empty stare from the start.

8. The Camus Paradox

Meursault is a walking contradiction. On one hand, he’s the epitome of the absurd, just coasting through life like a ghost. On the other hand, he’s supposed to represent Camus’ philosophy of rebellion against the absurd.

Camus argues that once you accept the absurd, you should fight back by creating your own meaning.

But Meursault? He doesn’t fight anything. He doesn’t create meaning. He just… exists. It’s as if Camus wrote the rules and then gave us a character who doesn’t follow them at all.

And yet, he’s still the embodiment of the absurd—just in a completely different way.

9. The Comedy of It All

If you’re reading The Stranger and you’re not laughing, then you’re missing the point. Not laughing in the “funny haha” sense, but in the grim, dark humor of it all.

Meursault is a walking joke. He doesn’t care about anything, doesn’t get worked up over anything. He just lets life happen to him.

And you know what? That’s hilarious—because it’s so futile. The absurdity of it all isn’t tragic. It’s comedy. Black comedy, sure, but comedy nonetheless.

10. Meursault as the Ultimate Mirror

At the end of the day, Meursault is just a mirror. Not a mirror that reflects some grand truth about humanity, but a mirror that shows us how empty we are.

How indifferent we are to everything. How little we matter in the grand scheme of the universe.

Meursault isn’t a character to admire or even pity. He’s just a reflection of everything we try to ignore.

The absurdity of life is staring you in the face, and all you can do is shrug and keep walking. He’s not a hero. He’s not a villain. He’s just… there. And so are we.

Table 1: Meursault’s Key Characteristics vs. The Absurd Hero

CharacteristicMeursaultAbsurd Hero (e.g., Sisyphus)
Relationship with the AbsurdPassive AcceptanceActive Rebellion
EmpathyAlmost nonexistentExists, but limited
Conflict with the UniverseNone (Just indifference)Struggles to make meaning
Realization of AbsurdityLate, and without true reflectionImmediate and ongoing
Emotional EngagementMinimal (Detached)Often emotionally invested

Table 2: Meursault’s Indifference vs. Camus’ Philosophy in The Rebel

Camus’ Philosophy in The RebelMeursault’s Characteristics
Rebellion for the collective humanityIndifference to others, isolated existence
Active engagement with the absurdPassive, detached, almost apathetic
A search for meaning through solidarityNo search for meaning; just acceptance
Rebellion against cosmic indifferenceEmbraces cosmic indifference

Final Words

So, what the hell is the point of Meursault? The absurd hero? The universe’s personification?

Maybe Camus just wanted to throw a curveball. Meursault isn’t someone to admire, but someone to see for what we all are—empty, indifferent, floating in a universe that doesn’t give a damn about us.

He doesn’t fight, he doesn’t care, and that’s exactly why he works.

He’s not here to teach you some lesson. He’s here to show you that, in the end, we’re all just wasting time in this absurd, meaningless world.

So you can either get angry about it or laugh along. But don’t think for a second you’ve got it all figured out.

Because, in the end, we’re all just like him: walking through life without a clue.

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