Camus’s plague, set in the 1940s, offers a modern and human interpretation of an age-old disease—the bubonic plague.
While dead rats litter the city and people die in masses, the townspeople of Oran do not initially feel worried for their safety. They have no way of judging how grave the sickness is compared to their community’s norm. This changes, though, after a sermon is delivered by Father Paneloux, cautioning the inhabitants of Oran against behaviors that brought on the plague, and advising them to offer up loving, devotional prayers and trust that God will relieve the town when he deems fit. The sermon alleges that God became ‘wearied of waiting for you to come to Him” and thus “loosed on you this visitation” (Camus, 97). In so bland and ordinary a town, a change to piety could not have proven difficult. Paneloux reveals, however, that the mundane city’s ignorant, mercantile existence brought on a pestilence far from ordinary. After this reproaching sermon, the general panic set in. And why did this general panic set in only after a religious sermon?
Religion can offer comfort in finding solid answers rather than in furthering questions. In times of perilous pestilence, people turn to religion to comfort their fears and to attempt to regain a feeling of control over their lives. The plague ravages the lives of most individuals in Oran, disrupting both family and romantic relationships, trade, and travel. If Paneloux ties the visitation to a dearth of appreciation and devotion to God, then a return to religion is in a way an avenue that promises to rectify the bleak situation in the city and gives people something to do in the meantime.
On the other hand, religion serves to alienate as much as it does to unite. “To some the sermon simply brought home the fact that they had been sentenced, for an unknown crime, to an indeterminate period of punishment.” Divine wrath is particularly confusing for many who did not see their lives and city as sinful. Rieux, however, (among others), takes a more humanist approach to the disease. He argues that not even priests believe in an all-powerful god. Utilizing, then, “creation as he found it,” Rieux takes on the human burden of curing a pestilence through mortal and scientific means.
Under Dr. Rieux’s scientific ideals, though, the town is put under quarantine and interaction with the outside world is completely severed. For the average citizen, being trapped inside the city’s diseased walls created an overwhelming feeling of despair and alienation. Many tried vainly to continue their normal lives, but this proved impossible. During the height of summer, the coasts were closed, shops were vacant, and the blazing sun was the only visitor upon Oran’s once-busy streets. The weather, ironically, became a central facet of the community. Even the slightest breeze or cool spell was enough to send throngs into fits of merriment and debauchery.
Arguably, the separation of loved ones created the strongest melancholy among Oran’s citizens. Many had presumed that short distances apart could never prove permanent obstacles. However, the breakneck implementation of quarantine was a shocking wake-up for many. Isolated lovers mourned, though, in a different way than the average despairing citizen. Their preoccupation with romance prevented them from being generally affected by the idea of plague:
“The egoism of love made them immune to the general distress and, if they thought of the plague, it was only in so far as it might threaten to make their separation eternal” (Camus, 76-77).
The narrator notes how during separation thoughts would often drift to loved ones and the inability to picture one’s beloved could prove unbearable. The quarantine required telegrams to be short, mail to cease, and telephone use to be practically non-existent. So, while the plague ravaged Oran, distraught lovers felt a pain all their own.
These particular feelings of alienation are very important regarding the novel’s characters. Rambert, a reporter from Paris, wants to escape his isolation within Oran. He wants special treatment because he does not live in Oran, but the quarantine is not lifted for him. Rambert begins to roam around the town aimlessly, even sitting for extended periods in train stations with no trains. Rambert is not afflicted with the pestilence during these bouts of roaming, yet he is afflicted with a direct effect of the plague – a somber feeling due to separation from his home and his beloved. The separating effects of the plague lead to emotional changes in Rambert, as well as in other townspeople who go unnamed.
Dr. Rieux suffers similarly. His wife, recovering from another sickness in a sanatorium, is outside the city. While the doctor battles daily for the lives of others, he receives no personal solace.
The Plague, overall, is groundbreaking in its human examinations of a modern populous. The Black Death, often assumed to be an artifact of medieval Europe, has come again with a vengeance. Its victims are no longer isolated peasants. Instead, they are 20th century human beings–human beings with telephones, with automobiles, with all the amenities of modern life. Shocking, though, is that even this modernity is useless under the pretext of so brutal an epidemic.
—Diana & Allen
Besides the analysis above, here are a few other topics we thought could serve as jumping off points for discussion:
– how Grand’s novel serves to distract him from the plague and the emotions it evokes
– What is gained by the reader regarding the narrator’s ambiguity at the onset of the novel? Is the story more trustworthy in third person with interspersed elements of other accounts and figures versus a first person narrative with the same elements?
– “Reckless extravagance” and advertisements of sterilization as results of the plague
Firstly, while I appreciate the quip about skype, you must admit, it is a total fail considering skype is FREE.
But onto more “sterner stuff”, I think that your dichotomous take on religeon is quite interesting. Isn’t it strange that as recently as the 1940’s, people still reacted to disease in such a manner? When we come across the idea of ‘visitations’ in Defoe, it makes sense considering the context of the times; but as recent (relatively) as the mid 20th Century, such appeals seem absurd. Rieux reflects on past plagues as one would expect from a ‘modern’ citizen, and it is interesting to contemplate the coatails that hang on in the public conscience with respect to religion-driven interpretations of disease. I was keenly reminded of Ibsen’s Ghosts – this is precisely what Mrs. Alving is referring to when she comments on the defunct theories and mannerisms that we embody and that make up who we are – and thus, how society is. If such a modern albeit dead boring society was so moved by religeous allegory, it raises questions about whether society can indeed outgrow archaic ideals, but more saliently, whether it should.
Although I really like the emphasis on the analysis of the consequences of religion and religious attitude, I find it important to mention that no matter what one’s religion was they had to overcome this barrier even if it seemed surreal. Albert Camus addresses the collective response to catastrophe when the city of Oran in Algeria becomes so isolated due to the bubonic plague. In times of despair and disease people tend to become equal, as mentioned in part one „now we’re like everybody else”, and „from now on it can be said that plague was the concern of all of them.” as described in part two. Also, one needs to help the other even without having a close relationship, just like in case of a neighbor: “I can’t say I really know him, but one’s got to help a neighbor hasn’t one?” – a remarkable attitude is revealed already in part one. I felt that one message of the novel was that there is an inborn ability in every human being to be good, but often times people tend to fail to realize their potential. Another exemplary moment is depicted by the following short dialogue: “Tarrou nodded. – ‘Yes. But your victories will never be lasting; that’s all.’ – Rieux’s face darkened. – ‘Yes, I know that. But it’s no reason for giving up the struggle.” I really like the moral take away from this moment and I find it at least as important as the consequences of religion in the novel.
Coming back to the brief discussion about the essence of the novel being not necessarily about bubonic plague last class and reinstating my rather ‘dystopian’ take on the whole piece by quoting the author himself:
“The Plague, which I wanted to be read on a number of levels, nevertheless has as its obvious content the struggle of the European resistance movements against Nazism. The proof of this is that although the specific enemy is nowhere named, everyone in every European country recognized it. Let me add that a long extract from The Plague appeared during the Occupation, in a collection of underground texts, and that this fact alone would justify the transposition I made. In a sense, The Plague is more than a chronicle of the Resistance. But certainly it is nothing less.”
Albert Camus, in his letter to Roland Barthes, circa 1955
[original can be read here: http://goo.gl/xfr4y ]
The inherent goodness in humans as discussed by Adam reminded me of Arthur Mervyn and his tendency to help others no matter what. Rieux is a character who exhibits this goodness, but to loop in the discussion from last class, I think Camus intends for the reader to juxtapose Rieux’s end to that of Tarrou, Cottard, and Rambert, and see that he does not end up in a much different place. Instead of reading Rieux’s actions as heroic and what Camus champions as the way to act during a plague, I think his actions, in comparison with the rest of the characters and unnamed citizens, suggest relativism in the face of the plague, and in life.
Also in the last class, Suel commented that only after the partial collapse of society thanks to the plague do people’s true drives emerge and they finally start living for themselves. This idea made me question why people did not act for themselves, in a way conscious of their eventual death, at all times. To tie the two points together, could Camus be arguing for a wider acceptance of relativism – not only in times of strife?