The Fall

Jean-Baptiste Clamence is a "good guy." He uses his abilities as a lawyer to protect the poor and weak. When asked, he helps blind people across the street. Wherever one finds a righteous cause, he appears to support it. He is a well-respected member of the community. Could one truly find SERIOUS fault with such a person?

Well, as of late, Clamence has had a slight problem: he has felt the need to be honest, both with others and himself. The truth often leads people to strange places, and so Clamence, formerly rich and recently disgraced, finds himself at a sailors' bar in Amsterdam. Here, he finally comes clean about his life and his actions (one and the same, possibly?). He's no criminal, surely not, or not the WORST kind anyway. His crime is much more insidious, and it consists of what we are all guilty of: he is two-faced. His purest acts of selflessness are actually forms of self-deception, for they mask that in the end, he is really satisfying himself. The purest altruism hides a secret loathing of those he "helps"; the deepest, most self-sacrificial love conceals a seething desire to dominate.

In this dingy bar, Clamence unburdens himself, not just of his "crimes," but of the author's (catch the quote at the beginning of the book) and humanity's too. Only a strong (and dishonest) reader can finish this book without cringing in self-recognition at the daily hypocrisies that add up to the modern human condition. Camus does not necessarily counsel despair though. At different points in The Fall, one can see the ever-present potential of humanity to better itself. What Camus does doubt though is the general willingness of people (himself included) to make the personal choices needed to truly bring ABOUT this "betterment."

The Fall is not entirely bleak reading. In several places, it is laugh-out-loud funny (No! Surely not sober Camus...), displaying the humour of a barroom Voltaire. Moreover, few could fail to delight in the sheer craft and elegance of the author's prose. Still, the book does raise searing questions about how to live (or waste) one's life. If one has been "sleepwalking" before reading The Fall, it will be almost impossible to do afterwards. Wake up with this brilliant, unsparing slap in the collective face of mankind (including me....)!

(Note to above confused reviewer: the book is written in the SECOND PERSON.)


The Classic French Existential Novel   April 13, 2002
39 out of 43 found this review helpful

Barely more than a hundred pages, "The Fall" represents Albert Camus' ultimate foray into the recesses of psychic anguish. Jean-Baptiste Clamence, a once-respected and successful Paris barrister, sits alone in an Amsterdam bar delivering his stark monologue to an unknown listener. It is a confessional narrative, a tale in which Clamence slowly unravels the spare facts of his life, his deceptions, his inauthenticity, his bad faith.

As he sits in the dimly lit bar, Clamence makes the locus of his telling a metaphor for the narrative to follow: "We are at the heart of things here. Have you noticed that Amsterdam's concentric canals resemble the circles of hell? The middle-class hell, of course, peopled with bad dreams. When one comes from the outside, as one gradually goes throught those circles, life-and hence its crimes-becomes denser, darker. Here we are in the last circle." It is a metaphor that resonates with existential imagery, reminiscent of Sartre's claim, in "No Exit", that "hell is other people." From this grim place, Camus writes a classic of Existentialist literature, building on this metaphor, writing an extended trope of unremitting self-examination, self-doubt and anguish.

Clamence was, by all outward appearances, both a virtuous and a modest man. His courtesy was famous and beyond question. He was generous in public and private, literally exulting at the approach of a beggar. He helped the blind man cross the street and the indigent defendant secure a reduced sentence. He ended his afternoons at the café with "a brilliant improvisation in the company of several friends on the hard-heartedness of our governing class and the hypocrisy of our leaders."

But appearances give lie to the truth, for the truth in "The Fall" is that life has no meaning, that it is full of ennui, and that people act unthinkingly, inauthentically, habitually. Thus, Clamence reflects on a man he knew, a man "who gave twenty years of his life to a scatter-brained woman, sacrificing everything to her," only to realize in the end that he never loved her. How does Clamence explain this? "He had been bored, that's all, bored like most people." And from this boredom, the man married and created "a life full of complications and drama." For, as Clamence suggests, "something must happen-and that explains most human commitments."

Clamence describes himself, too, as "a double face, a charming Janus," for his motives and feelings, his very psyche, belie his outward virtue. While outwardly supporting the poor and downtrodden, he is "well aware that one can't get along without dominating or being served, [for] every man needs slaves as he needs fresh air." While known as a defender of justice, a great Parisian lawyer, his "true desire" is not "to be the most intelligent or the most generous creature on earth, but only to beat anyone [he] wanted to, to be the stronger." While professing deep love and affection for the many women in his life, he is a misogynist who "never loved any of them." As Clamence cynically suggests, "true love is exceptional, [occurring] two or three times a century more or less. The rest of the time there is vanity or boredom."

"The Fall" is a little novel that makes the reader ponder big questions, questions of meaning and existence and death, of how we live our lives and of what motivates our actions. It is, in other words, a novel that articulates the open-ended questioning characteristic of the French Existentialism of the 1940s and 1950s. But it is more than that, for it is also perhaps the finest work of one of France's greatest Twentieth Century authors, a work that deserves to be read, re-read and pondered.


The Classic French Existential Novel   November 30, 2000
30 out of 33 found this review helpful

Barely more than a hundred pages, "The Fall" represents Albert Camus' ultimate foray into the recesses of psychic anguish. Jean-Baptiste Clamence, a once-respected and successful Paris barrister, sits alone in an Amsterdam bar delivering his stark monologue to an unknown listener. It is a confessional narrative, a tale in which Clamence slowly unravels the spare facts of his life, his deceptions, his inauthenticity, his bad faith.

As he sits in the dimly lit bar, Clamence makes the locus of his telling a metaphor for the narrative to follow: "We are at the heart of things here. Have you noticed that Amsterdam's concentric canals resemble the circles of hell? The middle-class hell, of course, peopled with bad dreams. When one comes from the outside, as one gradually goes throught those circles, life-and hence its crimes-becomes denser, darker. Here we are in the last circle." It is a metaphor that resonates with existential imagery, reminiscent of Sartre's claim, in "No Exit", that "hell is other people." From this grim place, Camus writes a classic of Existentialist literature, building on this metaphor, writing an extended trope of unremitting self-examination, self-doubt and anguish.

Clamence was, by all outward appearances, both a virtuous and a modest man. His courtesy was famous and beyond question. He was generous in public and private, literally exulting at the approach of a beggar. He helped the blind man cross the street and the indigent defendant secure a reduced sentence. He ended his afternoons at the café with "a brilliant improvisation in the company of several friends on the hard-heartedness of our governing class and the hypocrisy of our leaders."

But appearances give lie to the truth, for the truth in "The Fall" is that life has no meaning, that it is full of ennui, and that people act unthinkingly, inauthentically, habitually. Thus, Clamence reflects on a man he knew, a man "who gave twenty years of his life to a scatter-brained woman, sacrificing everything to her," only to realize in the end that he never loved her. How does Clamence explain this? "He had been bored, that's all, bored like most people." And from this boredom, the man married and created "a life full of complications and drama." For, as Clamence suggests, "something must happen-and that explains most human commitments."

Clamence describes himself, too, as "a double face, a charming Janus," for his motives and feelings, his very psyche, belie his outward virtue. While outwardly supporting the poor and downtrodden, he is "well aware that one can't get along without dominating or being served, [for] every man needs slaves as he needs fresh air." While known as a defender of justice, a great Parisian lawyer, his "true desire" is not "to be the most intelligent or the most generous creature on earth, but only to beat anyone [he] wanted to, to be the stronger." While professing deep love and affection for the many women in his life, he is a misogynist who "never loved any of them." As Clamence cynically suggests, "true love is exceptional, [occurring] two or three times a century more or less. The rest of the time there is vanity or boredom."

"The Fall" is a little novel that makes the reader ponder big questions, questions of meaning and existence and death, of how we live our lives and of what motivates our actions. It is, in other words, a novel that articulates the open-ended questioning characteristic of the French Existentialism of the 1940s and 1950s. But it is more than that, for it is also perhaps the finest work of one of France's greatest Twentieth Century authors, a work that deserves to be read, re-read and pondered.


Camus at his best   July 27, 2000
mrgrieves08 (tucson)
26 out of 29 found this review helpful

Aside from being Camus' crowning literary achievement, this work could also be viewed as one of the most important works of twentieth century literatue. It is also perhaps the most representational fictional work in the existensialist genre, far surpassing the work of Sartre. The Fall, aside from being a great work, is a masterful technical achievment, and a lesson in character development and dialogue. The plot revolves around a Parisian Lawyer by the name of Jean-Baptiste Clamence and his conversation with an anonymous man at an Amsterdam bar. As the story progresses the reader is gradually overwhelmed by the lawyers increasingly serious confessions. With no scenery to distract you the intensity of the conversation grows with each admission.

In his simple confession and out pouring of emotion we see a successful, seemingly content man, gradually transformed and reduced into an alienated, and shattered human being, a mere shell of the individual that he once strived to be. This book is similar to "The Stranger" in the way that the psychological tension continues to build, moving towards the final disheartening enlightenment. But, unlike "The Stranger" there is no closure for the subject or release from torment, only endless confession; not only for his individual crimes, but for those of all humanity. One can only speculate on how Camus would have continued this line of inquiry if he hadn't been tragically killed in an automobile accident at the age of 46. As it is we can only continue to enjoy and contemplate what he left behind. For as long as literature exists writers will continue to delve into the recesses of the human psyche and attempt to provide a flicker of light in, an all to often, dark world. After reading this book I can say that Camus accomplished this like few writers ever had, and will always be a sobering light amid the confusion of an often absurd world.


existensialism par excellance   November 14, 2000
mrgrieves08 (tucson)
35 out of 41 found this review helpful

Aside from being Camus' crowning literary achievement, this work should also be viewed as one of the most important works of twentieth century literatue. It is also, perhaps, the most representational work of fiction in the existensialist genre, far surpassing the work of Sartre. The Fall, aside from being a great work, is also a masterful technical achievment, and a lesson in character development and dialogue. The plot revolves around a Parisian Lawyer by the name of Jean-Baptiste Clamence and his conversation with an anonymous man at an Amsterdam bar. As the story progresses the reader is gradually overwhelmed by the lawyers increasingly serious confessions. With no scenery to distract you from the intensity of the conversation, the tension grows with each new admission, which slowly reveals the fragile relationships that we have with others, as well as the delusional images projected upon the self. In his simple confession and out-pouring of emotion we see a successful, seemingly content man, gradually transformed and reduced into an alienated, and shattered human being; a mere shell of the individual that he once strived to be. This book is similar to "The Stranger" in the way that the psychological tension is meticulously and subtly built upon, inevitably moving towards a final disheartening, yet liberating, personal understanding. But, unlike "The Stranger" there is no closure for the subject or release from the psychological torment of reflection, only the curse of endless confession, not only concernign his individual crimes, but for his complicity in all the crimes of humanity. One can only speculate on how Camus would have continued this line of inquiry if he hadn't been tragically killed in an automobile accident at the age of 46. As it is we can only continue to enjoy and contemplate what he left behind. For as long as literature exists writers will continue to delve into the recesses of the human psyche and attempt to provide a flicker of light in, an all to often, dark and absurd world. After reading this book I can say that Camus accomplished this goal like few writers ever have, and his works will continue to represent a sobering light amid the confusion of an often absurd world.