The Void: Amorality in The Stranger

Morality is the central question in Albert Camus' The Stranger. We are introduced to an utterly detached protagonist, Meursalt, and his struggles to come to terms with a world predicated on morality. Meursalt makes no moral judgments, not even on himself. He commits a heinous act of murder, and yet the reader is left feeling abandoned, left wondering exactly how to judge the man that feels no wrong.

Camus clearly comes from the perspective that there is no morality; rather, morality is imposed upon us by society. Camus characterizes his protagonist with sensory details, rather than moral judgments. Meursalt wonders why the world sees him as peculiar, because from his perspective, he is the only true moral basis. We see characters throughout the novel that defy traditional morality, and yet there are others who enforce it with an intense Christian vigor. One lawyer shoves the crucifix in Meuralt's face, demanding him to see God. To him, morality, and specifically Christianity, are fundamental to the human condition. Meursalt proves otherwise.

We often wonder what the root of evil is. How could someone be evil when morality is so utterly true? Camus offers an explanation. Some are born with a lacking. Others lose their sense of right and wrong altogether.

The Stranger offers only that some are born without an innate moral code. Camus criticizes that everyone is fundamentally without, but is never able to convincingly prove that. He sticks to what he knows he can prove: the amorality of one man. It is true that we do not understand the workings of the minds of individuals. Perception and judgments are independent for each person. Such people need society to demand morality of them if we are to have a functioning culture. Striving for what is morally right serves in the best interest of everyone. Therefore, we need morality.

However, Camus is unable to prove that everyone is born without a moral code. While he does show that morality is imposed upon the man without it, he does not comment on whether the imposers simply drank the Kool-Aid and became moral through osmosis.

The Stranger adds a valuable data point on the quest to uncover the source of the moral code. Morality does not exist in everyone's nature, says Camus. In this way, society defines morality for some who need it. To others, I believe, morality is innate. The question as to whether each person has the same moral code remains to be seen. Is morality a fundamental milieu, that one either has, or does not? Or does each person define their own moral code?

The Stranger was more useful than most in discovering the answer to this question. The more I debate it, the more I begin to realize that it may be a lifelong question without any clear answer. These are some of the most important questions, but also some of the most frustrating.

Investigation into the Morals of the Invisible Man

"For, like almost everyone else in our country, I started out with my share of optimism. I believed in hard work and progress and action, but now, after first being 'for' society and then 'against' it, I assign myself no rank or any limit, and such an attitude is very much against the trend of the times." -- The Invisible Man

Throughout Ralph Ellison's The Invisible Man, the nameless narrator struggles with the moral merits of following the "rules" set forth by the powerful entities within a society. He starts out his life with a mission to be the "successful" black man in 1950s America. He follows the rules and stays in his place in order to succeed within the channels that have been set up for him.

He struggles with why he must follow these rules, to submit to more powerful men. In a sense, it was only "moral" for the narrator to be who others expected him to be: Southern, submissive, and post-slavery black. The world does not reward this cultural morality, however, when the narrator is chewed up and spit out for circumstances beyond his control.

The narrator finds a new sense of morality, one that reflects the revolutionaries at the time: to rebel is to stand up for the morally right. This sentiment becomes a problem when he realizes that he was not following his own moral code, but the code of the revolutionary agenda.

This story brings some important answers to whether morality is derived from society, or whether it is innate. In one sense, the morals as defined for black men did come directly from the powers that be, or in a broader sense, from society. Certain expectations were imposed upon these men and women not because some fundamental sense of morality compelled them to do so, but because others simply came to expect such actions. However, in another sense, the narrator does find a moral code within himself, when he finally becomes invisible, assigning himself "no rank or limit" except those he deemed necessary.

The moral code set out by the imposition of society was easily laid out and followed; the narrator's own moral code was not quite as straightforward. Morality is not an easy question, and internal morality can at times be more murky than external morality. Perhaps this is why we tend to opt for the latter. Internal morality requires constant reevaluation and testing, whereas external morality is straightforward and consistent throughout groups.

It is up to the individual to determine how much of his morality he will acquire through osmosis, and how much he can generate within himself. This keen insight I will carry with me as I read in future books. I have yet to determine what factors cause individuals to choose their balance between the two.

The Plague of Custom: Morality in King Lear

Morality continues to be at question every day in our present society. Every day, it seems there is a new cultural Litmus test where we have to weigh one value against another. There seem to be two distinct moral paths developing in this country as the American political spectrum polarizes: one fueled by the pursuit of liberty, and the other fueled by the pursuit of equality. To me, this says that morality is defined predominantly by culture, as the cultures of two political ideologies continue to self-separate and self-segregate in a runaway case of confirmation bias. To substantiate this claim, I have to dive further into the world of historical literature, to collect more data points about this alleged cultural morality.

Again, I must ask the question: What does King Lear teach me about the cultural context of morality? Shakespearean England was a society predicated by honor, power, and heredity. It is no surprise, then, that these factors should build much of the moral and social code of the time. King Lear explores some of the more heinous immoral acts conceived at the time.

Bastardy is a strong subject in the Bard's tragedy. It represents a loss of honor, and creates conflict in power and heredity. A child born without wed parents comes across as a social stigma in Lear, so much so that the bastard himself, Edmund, receives the cultural downpour for his father's transgression. Edmund becomes tortured by the way society treats him: he is a second-class human being to them. He bemoans "the plague of custom," under the "curiosity of nations to deprive" him of basic rights. Early in the play, he was to receive no inheritance or respect from his father, who ultimately was responsible for Edmund's standing.

Today, such a stigma is nowhere near what it was to Edmund. The curse "base" has fallen out of usage with no similar modern substitute. It stands to reason that the words we use as pejoratives show which groups are socially disfavored (hence the modern shift to no longer use "gay" as an insult as the gay community raises to mass approval). However, I would venture to say that the stigma that was on bastardy still exists to some extent, as marriage is still the accepted norm for creating families. Such a taboo today would exist on teen mothers and mothers-to-be, because those groups, according to our culture, can not be sustainable, and are therefore immoral.

Would it be fair to say that morality is shaped by culture, and culture is shaped by changing sustainability? Could morals change as our capacity to survive as a society increases? Perhaps bastardy in Elizabethan England was immoral because society could not have survived if everyone had extra-marital relations. Perhaps the historical taboo of being homosexual has similar roots in survival: if everyone were homosexual, the species would not continue. But then, why is not having children in a marriage not considered immoral, by that logic? Why do some survival-related stigmas exist, but not others?

It would seem I need more literature to finally figure this out once and for all. I like to think that our culture is ultimately philosophically understandable. Hopefully there is an answer to the morality question after all.

A Madness Most Discrete: Marriage in Wuthering Heights

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte exposes rules of Victorian culture and its definitions of love: what love should be, what love must be, and most importantly, what love cannot be. The parameters that one’s culture places on marriage seem to vary from time to time, location to location. Bronte gives the modern reader an interesting contrast from his own norms regarding these rules.

Wuthering Heights serves as a social critique of the fact that marriages in Bronte’s day, at least from the reference frame of the well-to-do, were largely games of social stature rather than feelings of love and affection for one’s fiancé. Cathrine I becomes enchanted by the lowly Heathcliff early in the novel, singing his praises about how much their souls are one and so on. However, she decides to marry another, much better-off Edgar Linton to secure her family’s assets and expand her family’s influence. This causes the majority of the novel’s subsequent dramas and episodes, as Heathcliff reaps his revenge on Cathrine I’s extended family in spite. True love could not run its course, as the reader is left to believe, because of pesky economic decisions.

These same social pressures may not exist in the same strength that they may have in Bronte’s day. In my world, the common sentiment is that marriage is a contract of love (or at least passion). Marriage is to be made between those who love each other, and all of the economic pressures will be sorted out after the contract made. Coincidentally  the most highly-cited reason for divorce (common these days) is financial differences. The morals behind marriage, it would seem, have shifted from a world of conflicted rational decision to a world of conflicted passion-driven decision. “Give me that man who is not passion’s slave,” (Hamlet).

Still, in other cultures of the world, marriage is still a social and economic contract between families. Through what augmented lens do these cultures see love? Unfortunately, in order to understand this, I would venture into the world of non-Western literature; this may not happen until I can meaningfully bridge a language barrier or take a world literature class.

At the end of the day, however, I can with confidence remark that the parameters around love definitely do vary from culture to culture. At least here, culture does definitely define morality and our attitudes toward approaching that madness more discrete.

Love is a smoke, raised with the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes. Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discrete? A choking gall and preserving sweet? -- Romeo and Juliet

Questions concerning Oedipus the King

Oedipus the King  by Sophocles is a great example of societal morality. The fates guide Oedipus to live his life: he is nothing but a slave to prophecy. That said, there are clear delineations as to what is wrong and right in the society to which Sophocles writes: ancient Greece.


Through the dialogue in the play, a modern reader can clearly determine what this society found immoral, and what they found perfectly normal and acceptable. This may help me answer my big question. The premise of the play is that Oedipus kills his father and marries his mother, unbeknownst to him. When he finds out about this mishap, he stabs his eyes out in shame.

Oedipus saw his actions as morally reprehensible, and therefore found crippling guilt in his actions and their repercussions. Therefore, we can determine that, to the Greeks, marrying one's mother was considered the ultimate  immorality. The play itself says nothing of this being repulsive, only noting its shame. In contemporary society, this is, without a doubt, a social faux pas. We can safely assume that this sense of moral has carried throughout the Western tradition, or else is fundamental to humankind. This gives us a link 

Oedipus also portrays regret and sorrow when he murdered his father: "With these hands of mine, these killer’s hands, I now contaminate the dead man’s bed. Am I not depraved?" Murder, it would seem, has always been immoral. At least, murder was both immoral in Sophocles's Greece and much of recorded history in most cultures. Does this mean that this sense of morality comes not from social code, but sprouts from deep within the human psyche? Perhaps, but we need more data than just simple correlation.

Onward to more questions.

Ask Big Questions

It's high time we start asking questions around here.

We have a bad habit of acting now and asking questions never. Inquiry brings us closer to knowing, and, let's face it, knowing is nearly the entire battle.

The beauty of asking questions is that we generate new questions, bigger questions. We get closer to the truth. Remember that old girl? Yes, she's still around, and yes, you can look her up, but you have to find her number first.

Truth isn't easy, and she has a delicate way of slapping you in the face. She makes you a better person, though, and you know that. So let's start asking some questions.

***

Any proper discussion of morality includes the reasons behind morals, and potentially more important, where those morals come from. We often follow a set of unspoken rules because they just feel right. But where do these rules come from? What is morality, from a secular perspective? Could morality be picked up through osmosis, observing others and copying their emotions? Is morality something deeper, something instinctual, that drives us all the same conclusions about what is wrong and what is right? Perhaps, if morality is ultimately genetic, different genetic backgrounds might experience different behavioral tendencies.

Should individuals be judged within the context of their societies, or by one's own moral code? Is morality rigid as it applies to different cultures and times, or should the moral standard by which we judge individuals change with the passage of time and a difference in culture?

Thomas Jefferson authored the Constitution of the United States, holding within the pen-strokes leaps and bounds forward in equality and personal liberty. Simultaneously, Jefferson owned slaves and a plantation, and was willing to compromise to keep slavery on the shores of the New World. Was Jefferson immoral for holding slaves, and did he see his "possession" of others as immoral himself? We can easily conclude that slavery in itself is immoral by modern standards. When we consider the individual, however, how can we judge their morality when their actions were considered the norm in their time-frame?

Variety is the spice of life. This world is full of different cultures and viewpoints that enlivens perspective and discussion. That said, how are we to judge the actions of Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby who, for all intents and purposes, is a follower of the social norms of 1920s New York City. He does not deviate, showing neither higher nor lower morals than any of the degenerates with which he lived. Is Carraway immoral, or simply morally average in his context? To understand his motivations, we have to assume his actions in good faith; otherwise, his value as a character would be indecipherable.

Morality is not an easy topic about which to write. Numerous conflicting theories of morality trickle into conversation. In the interest of full disclosure, I am a pantheist who does not seek moral approval from a higher power, but rather sees morality as a personal quest that individuals have to undertake by themselves.

***

This topic piques my interest because of my own journey of moral discovery. I find myself asking "Why?" far too often, more than is comfortable for most around me. I can't help this nature of mine: question everything, with attempts at being indiscriminate. This admittedly does not win me too many friends, but those who stick around are able to help me discover my answers.

I went through a crisis of sorts when I realized that I was not Christian. I was raised one, as many are, and through trial and error it turned out I did not believe. The question I was left with was this: why do I still feel the need to be a good person? How can I still make judgments on right and wrong, when I have no scripture to reinforce my views? The more research I did into the subject, the more I realized that the interpretations of what is "moral" varies from place to place, time to time. Segregation of women in Saudi Arabia is not immoral, but to us in Western culture, it most definitely is. So how do we determine which is the right way to treat women, and which is the wrong way? Should be judge every Saudi man who scolds his wife for taking off her head-covering in public, even when this upholds his own moral values?

Does morality come down to the mind of the observer, and what gives that observer the right to be "right"?