Huang 1 Brandon Huang AP English Literature McHeffey P.

2 7 October 2013 Making a Point about Pointlessness Jean Paul Sartre was born in 1905 and lived in France for most of his life. He wrote Nausea in the 1930s, and is credited with inspiring an existential movement in France in the 1940s and 1950s (Wikipedia). The period in which he wrote overlapped heavily with that of Albert Camus, an author whose works are often compared to his own. Specifically, I seem to have found a lot of articles comparing The Stranger to Nausea, which could be very interesting to draw connections to. Nausea is set in 1932, in the upheaval period between the two world wars. The first thing that strikes me about the novel is its structure as a series of journal entries written in 1932, instead of the usual chapters. Throughout the book, I am often struck by the sense that Sartre is simply heaping together a huge mass of examples to describe the feelings of existential angst that Antoine Roquentin, a traveled historian and the narrator of the novel, experiences throughout the text. Part of this sense of nondirection seems to from the journal format of the novel. Yet, there is a defined plot as well, as the novel begins when Roquentin first notices the change in his own mindset, and intensifies up to Roquentin's brief encounter with Anny. I turn to a quote to shed some light on this apparent paradox. "Nausea is a philosophical novel, or novel of ideas. Although it is a work of fiction, Sartre utilized the novel form in order to express and explore his philosophical ideas" (Milne). Perhaps because Sartre wrote the novel to express his ideas, he decided to work as many details into the plot as possible, details that reveal the nature of his ideas as they apply to Roquentin. For example, Roquentin strikes upon an insight while doing nothing more than sitting in the library: "Furniture light and solid, rooted in its present, a table, a bed, a closet with a mirror- and me. The true nature of the present revealed itself: it was what exists, and all that was not present did not exist. The past did not exist" (Sartre 96). While these details seem to have little significance, they provide a reference by which Sartre exemplifies his

Huang 2 ideas through Roquentin's introspective eyes. At least for me, this justifies Sartre's seemingly random selection of details throughout the novel, even though it does make for somewhat confusing reading (especially in trying to remember the names of the numerous people that Roquentin references). I find the Self-Taught Man to be a very striking foil to Roquentin. He is a naive, passionate, and most importantly, humanistic man whose philosophies clash with Roquentin's developing existentialism. Through his idealistic love of other people the Self Taught Man attaches meaning to almost everything that Roquentin has come to recognize as meaningless. Did Sartre introduce this character to ridicule humanists? It seems possible given the generic name "Self-Taught Man" that Roquentin assigns him, suggesting that the Self-Taught Man stands for a certain type of person or belief. The Self-Taught Man certainly doesn't garner any respect from me, as he prefers to override Roquentin and resent him for his ideas rather than make attempts to accept them. "The Self-Taught Man laughs candidly, but his eyes stay wicked: 'You are too modest, Monseiur. In order to tolerate your condition, the human condition, you, as everybody else, need much courage...'" (Sartre 121). The Self-Taught Man's attempt to enfold Roquentin's outlook on life into the humanist fold seems to me a gross misunderstanding. He gratuitously labels Roquentin a brave fighter against the cruel world, but throughout the novel Roquentin typically responds to anything he sees with either narrative detachment or bleak realizations of his loneliness and insignificance. The Self-Taught Man seems to be deluding only himself, according to Roquentin's morose observation: "Only he doesn't realize his solitude. Well, yes: but it wasn't up to me to open his eyes" (Sartre 121). I wonder if Sartre perhaps subscribed to humanist ideas before turning to existentialism. However, if Sartre ridicules the humanist in his story so much, and then reveals him to be a child molester in the end, it seems unlikely that he ever took much stock in humanism. I would expect a philosopher to pay a bit more respect to their own past beliefs, and to the character that embodies them. In any case, Sartre's unfavorable portrayal of the Self-Taught Man and his conflict with Roquentin serves as an allegory demonstrating the fragility of humanist thought in the face of the bleakness of existence. Sartre's use of bleak diction in the first several entries of Nausea conveys a sense of the absolute power of time. For example, Roquentin seems to describe an amusing scene on the streets of Paris: "...a little woman in sky blue was running backwards, laughing, waving a

Huang 3 handkerchief... Still going backwards, the woman bumped into [a Negro]" (Sartre 7). These warm, lively details contrast sharply with the stark details of the following scene, in which Roquentin muses: "An hour later the lantern was lit, the wind blew, the sky was black; nothing at all was left" (Sartre 8). (Way to kill the mood, man.) The human liveliness of the first scene is wiped away by a mere passage of time, paralleling the bleak outlook on humanity that Roquentin is beginning to develop. Roquentin senses the inevitability, indicated by Sartre's use of stark diction, with which people cease to exist, leading to his wonder at the absurdity of his own existence. He has more to say about time later, as he observes several men playing cards in a cafe: "I think they do it to pass the time, nothing more. But time is too large, it can't be filled up. Everything you plunge into it is stretched and disintegrates" (Sartre 21). Sartre's characterization of time uses gaping, massively hollow diction, describing it in a way that reminds me of a black hole (the astronomical object from which light and matter don't escape). The sheer scale of time that this diction suggests casts the card players in a puny and insignificant light when juxtaposed. From this perspective, nothing that people do will create any lasting change, because time destroys all our efforts in the end. Herein lies the logic supporting the revelation that Sartre is exploring- the idea that man's existence has no purpose, because time will degrade and devour anything that we try to deem as a purpose for our existence. In light of this logic, it is possible to at least partially define the concept of Nausea. Based on his observations and musings about time, Nausea is Roquentin's sense of strangeness toward his own existence. His bizarre sense of surprise toward himself throughout the novel exemplifies this idea. "I see my hand spread out on the table. It lives- it is me. It opens, the fingers open and point" (Sartre 98). Roquentin's fascination with his own moving body is exemplified by his point of view, detached from his body which he refers to as a foreign object. Indeed, this point of view seems justified because, lacking a purpose for existence, man seems very out of place simply by existing. Sartre is depicting Roquentin's realization of this fact, which causes him to be extremely aware of his own body, and the absurdity of its existence. Another way to look at Nausea, slightly different, is as Roquentin's feeling of anxiety at having no clear purpose. He is constantly lonely, and his coming to terms with his stark, undirected existence doesn't help him at all. The onset of Nausea becomes Sartre's way of indicating that Roquentin is facing a crisis with himself: " Roquentin, who is profoundly lonely, without friends or family, expresses a sensation of "sweetish sickness" in contemplating the absurdity of life. He refers to this sensation,

Huang 4 which is both mental and physical, as the Nausea" (Milne). Since it seems unwise to approach the idea of the Nausea through any sort of physiological or pathological characterizations, what I gather from this quote is that I should treat the Nausea as mostly a metaphorical tool, a reflection of Roquentin's state of mind. One of the only places where Roquentin experiences anything positive from Nausea is when he is listening to his favorite jazz recording in a cafe. "For the moment, the jazz is playing; there is no melody, only notes, a myriad of tiny jolts. They know no rest, an inflexible order gives birth to them and destroys them without even giving them time to recuperate and exist for themselves" (Sartre 21). I would posit that Sartre designates this jazz track as Roquentin's favorite because of the symbolic significance of these notes. With their ephemeral nature, the notes symbolize people in Roquentin's eyes, existing for a short time with no purpose of their own. This fast-note character of the music thus reflects Roquentin's own perspective and thus the themes that Sartre is attempting to convey, so it seems appropriate that Roquentin would like this particular track. It is here that the Nausea does not bring Roquentin distress: "There is nothing extraordinary in this, it is a small happiness of Nausea: it spreads at the bottom of the viscous puddle, at the bottom of our time... No sooner than born, it is already old, it seems as though I have known it for twenty years" (Sartre 21). Roquentin seems to derive some limited happiness from the music. I surmise that it has something to do with his crushing loneliness; it seems possible that when he perceives that his perspective is reflected in the music, he feels that the music sympathizes with him. On a different note, the strange way in which Roquentin perceives this happiness as instantly old conveys a sense of familiarity, as if Roquentin understood the ephemeral nature of people all along, and simply didn't recognize it. Given that Sartre is ultimately attempting to express the "people are ephemeral" idea through Roquentin's point of view, Roquentin's tone of familiarity toward that idea helps to support Sartre's message. Up until this point I have mainly discussed Sartre's application of Roquentin's narration to express his philosophical ideas. As mentioned before, Nausea is a philosophical novel, and so if a bulk of the analysis to be done on Nausea is to derive Sartre's message without necessarily paying attention to Roquentin as a character, I think that is to be expected. However, I do think it would be of benefit to examine Roquentin's development as a character as well, and explore some of his motivations and reasoning for its own sake. Ironically, perhaps this goes against the

Huang 5 overarching themes of the novel, specifically the idea that man's existence is purposeless. However, I think it would be illogical to treat the bleak philosophy of Sartre's book as removed to a higher place from the characters of the book. After all, in existentialist works, there had to be a person writing the book. Man is the one thinking that his existence and the existence of others is purposeless. Thus, I surmise that despite its far-reaching implications, existentialism must somehow be linked to the story of the author, and will sometimes be linked (if the author chooses to do so) to the story of the narrator. Furthermore, I know that The Stranger and Nausea were published in the same post-WWI era, and that a great existential movement swept French literature and other media in the wake of those two novels. It seems very likely that existentialism was thus influenced by circumstances in France in that era, which would link the stories of the authors (living under those circumstances) to the existential philosophies they explore. Does this contradict the idea of existentialism in itself? I thought it did at first, because I thought it too paradoxical that we humans in a purposeless existence could create purposeful philosophies like existentialism. Now that I re-examine, I suppose one could argue that coming up with a looming, abstract concept like existentialism doesn't necessarily bring meaning to our existence either. It just provides a perspective for understanding of our ultimate meaninglessness. In this light perhaps it is wiser to consider existentialism as a human attitude, a personal way of rationalizing ourselves, and avoid extending its implications too far beyond the person who is experiencing the existential crisis. With this interjection in mind, I continue. Roquentin's abortive attempts to write historically about M. Rollebon result in one of Roquentin's important philosophical insights, his revelation that the past does not matter. Even from the beginning his interest in Rollebon is flagging: "...the man... the man begins to bore me. It is the book which attracts me, I feel more and more need to write" (Sartre 13). Roquentin's historical work on Rollebon also gives him a strong sense of uncertainty about the validity of the evidence he is gathering about Rollebon's life. "I feel full of ill-will towards this lying little fop; perhaps it is spite: I was quite pleased that he lied to others but I would have liked him to make an exception of me... But if this is where it all leads me, I'd be better off writing a novel on the Marquis de Rollebon" (Sartre 58). Roquentin's frustration over his difficulties in finding reliable sources about Rollebon lead him to question the validity of the information he is getting. The nature of Rollebon's existence seems to be increasingly called into question as Roquentin goes over what little he knows about Rollebon's life. Ultimately, this frustration is part of what leads

Huang 6 him to conclude that the past stops mattering: "Now I knew: things are entirely what they appear to be- and behind them.. there is nothing" (Sartre 96). As the novel progresses, Roquentin's developing existential crisis takes away his ability to believe in the past, because present existence becomes the only relevant state of things. This revelation throws Roquentin deeper into his sense of crisis, as he realizes that his research on Rollebon serves only to mask his discomfort with his own existence: "I was only a means of making him live, he was my reason for living, he had delivered me from myself. What shall I do now?" (Sartre 98). Sartre uses this episode to continue exploring the implications of existence, adding historical research to the long list of other things (including traveling) that ultimately have their meaning stripped away, much to Roquentin's despair. Through the continued conflict between the ideologies of the Self-Taught Man and Roquentin, Sartre reveals the folly of attempting to impose meaning on human existence. The Self-Taught Man's enchanted attitude toward the "magic of adventures" contrasts with Roquentin's, leading him to conclude that in the end, he has had no real "adventures". This seems completely ironic, considering that Roquentin traveled for six years around the world before coming back to France. Yet, it is not the physical act of traveling that creates the adventure for Roquentin. Those things lose their meaning for him, as we see through the voice he imagines in his head, a voice belonging to a mysterious "unnameable" idea: "Is that what you wanted? Well, that's exactly what you've never had (remember you fooled yourself with words, you called the glitter of travel, the love of woman, quarrels, and trinkets adventure) and this is what you'll never have- and no one other than yourself" (Sartre 38). Far from constituting real adventure, Roquentin's travels become a weak substitute for something more meaningful. "I had imagined that at certain times my life could take on a rare and precious quality. There was no need for extraordinary circumstances: all I asked for was a little precision" (Sartre 37). According to Roquentin, the real adventure lies in events that carry meaning, that form a sequence with a precise beginning and end. The adventure that Roquentin lacks is an adventure as told in a story, with a sensible progression of events. Why is it impossible for him to experience this? Because the only adventures are those retold in stories of the past; nobody experiences adventures in the present, because we do not get a chance to reorder and process events to make them meaningful. Instead, we live in absurdity and only find meaning by deceiving ourselves, restructuring the past to make sense when retold. Roquentin's frustration at realizing this fact is clear: "I wanted the

Huang 7 moments of my life to follow and order themselves like those of a life remembered. You might as well try and catch time by the tail" (Sartre 40). Roquentin realizes that people like the SelfTaught Man are foolish to try to impose meaning on their lives by calling certain events "adventures", and that he once thought in the same deluded fashion. He expresses this foolishness by comparing the pursuit of meaning to an attempt to stop time, which he has already established to be thoroughly impossible. Again, Sartre casts the Self-Taught Man as naive and simplistic, discrediting his opinion in favor of the philosophical ideas he aims to express through Roquentin's perspective. There is a point in which Roquentin abandons his ideas and gives himself in to the sense of adventure, a pursuit spanning the length of one diary entry. After leaving the Cafe Malby one relatively uneventful day, he is suddenly stricken by excitement and wanders through the streets of Bouville, imagining a meaning behind arbitrary objects. "At last an adventure happens to me and when I question myself I see that it happens that I am myself and that I am here; I am the one who splits the night, I am happy as the hero of a novel" (Sartre 54). He leads himself on with a fantasy about a white beacon on the street, and an unsubstantiated sense of foreboding when he approaches a street known as the Place Ducoton. Finally, after wandering through the busy Cafe Mably, Roquentin begins to acknowledge the pointlessness of his wandering. "Perhaps there is nothing in the world I cling to as much as this feeling of adventure; but it comes when it pleases; it is gone so quickly and how empty I am once it has left. Does it, ironically, pay me these short visits in order to show me that I have wasted my life?" (Sartre 56). Roquentin can only temporarily delude himself into accepting this random sense of adventure, inspired solely by himself ("I am myself... I am here", which can "link the scattered moments.. and solder them together and... [give] them a meaning" (Sartre 55). The arbitrary and random nature of his "adventure" conflicts with and eventually undermines the temporary sense of meaning it brought him, leaving him with only disgust for his own naivety. "I got excited like an imbecile. I must wash myself clean with abstract thoughts, transparent as water" (Sartre 56). Roquentin tries to create meaning for his existence based solely on his desire to have meaning, and his failure to do so leaves him bitter and disillusioned with this approach to resolving his existential angst. I originally thought that Roquentin was going to abandon his hopes for restoring purpose to his life via adventure after this episode, but instead he simply reassigns his hopes to hinge

Huang 8 upon reuniting with Anny, a former lover who he split with several years before, and whose letter asks him to come see her in Paris. (I happened to find this a really really bad idea. Especially given his descriptions of how she treated him.) "My train leaves in twenty minutes. The gramophone. Strong feeling of adventure" (Sartre). At least while he is waiting for his opportunity to see Anny, a significant figure from his past, he gets the sense of adventure that indicates meaning. His rejection, as expected, throws him back into the unresolved crisis of his existence. "In visiting Anny, Roquentin had hoped that the answer to his internal struggles would lie in renewing his love relationship with her. However, when he realizes that this is not possible, he is once again left to grapple alone with the significance of his existence" (Milne). What Roquentin does discover in meeting her again is that, unlike before, she has given up the pursuit of "perfect moments", paralleling Roquentin's own abandonment of his naive attitude toward his "adventures". It seems possible that Anny's pursuit of these apparently arbitrarily meaningful moments while she was with Roquentin provides a plausible explanation for his doubt toward our concepts of meaning in life. After this point, the climax of the story, Roquentin makes plans to resolve his conflict by writing a novel about himself. His stated goal? "And I might succeed- in the past, nothing but the past- in accepting myself" (Sartre 178). Essentially, Roquentin's desperation seems to leave him open to the possibility of organizing his life into a sort of "adventure", such that "a little of its clarity might fall over my past" (Sartre 178). Despite all he has previously mused about the pointlessness of such a venture, he doesn't see a point in anything else. Why does Sartre have Roquentin commit to this act of hypocrisy? Perhaps he is trying to demonstrate that the question of human existence doesn't really have an answer, and so Roquentin's solution is a simple gimmick that won't resolve his internal conflict. Whatever the case, Roquentin has uprooted himself from the only place in which he knew anyone, so I don't expect him to fare particularly well. Throughout this novel I always assumed Roquentin was an old man. Reading back through the novel, I discovered that he is actually thirty years old. Why, then, does he sound so old? I assume that it has something to do with his sitting in a library, researching history, and dwelling in cafes all day while barely talking to anyone and questioning his own sense of purpose. He lacks any sort of youthful vitality throughout the novel, as anything he does in

Huang 9 earnest is basically a result of his delusion of having an adventure. Moreover, I found the way Roquentin helplessly went to see Anny, asked for her to stay, and got rejected as more characteristic of an older person lacking hope for other things. And, Roquentin is writing a novel about himself. How is he thirty years old?! Maybe the significance of this is that age doesn't matter when he is worried about his own existence. We all age and die either way- perhaps it doesn't make a difference at what age we realize this. Although it makes Roquentin seem ridiculously old. Does Sartre convey an overarching message in Nausea? It's difficult to say. The ideas he expresses are certainly related, but the novel seems to be more based on how these ideas disturb the narrator than on how they come together to form an overall message. However, Sartre certainly conveys, on the whole, the extreme discomfort of self-consciousness, the awareness of one's own existence. This seems to contrast with The Stranger, in which Meursault takes refuge in the indifference of life rather than finding himself disturbed by it. To a degree, Roquentin does that as well in Nausea. Yet, Sartre's novel definitely focuses more on the struggle and despair of having no purpose in life. It takes the inspiring, humanistic Cartesian idea that "I think, therefore I am" and twists the "I am" portion into a point of deep uncertainty and anxiety. I can't say I haven't felt this way before- vaguely wondering at the shape and feel of my own hand or arm, out of the blue. Perhaps, then, Sartre's writing holds appeal for externalizing for readers a sensation that is felt by many, the manifestation of Nausea in everyday life.

Huang 10 Works Cited "Nausea." Novels for Students. Ed. Ira Mark Milne and Timothy Sisler. Vol. 21. Detroit: Gale, 2005. 221-232. Gale Virtual Reference Library. Web. 6 Oct. 2013. "Nausea (novel)." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 8 Oct. 2013. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nausea_(novel)>. Sartre, Jean-Paul. Nausea. New York: New Directions, 1964. Print.