PART
1: Covid-19, The Plague, and “Limit Experiences”
As I begin
to write this essay (early April 2020), the world is still very much in the
thick of the Covid-19 Pandemic which began in Wuhan, China in December 2019 and
has since swept the whole world prompting the World Health Organization (WHO) to
declare it a pandemic in March 2020. The pandemic has resulted in a major
global crisis not seen at this scale since perhaps the Second World War and it
has and continues to result in many unfortunate and terrible events such as the
high number of deaths among the most vulnerable classes of people, the
overwhelming of healthcare systems in many countries, a wide-scale economic
fallout, further suffering for the poor and marginalized, and so forth.
With so much
loss in terms of lives, jobs, mobility, and stability the world over (and thus immense
suffering for multitudes), this experience can very rightly be called—what
theologian David Tracy refers to as a—“limit experience.” (Incidentally, Tracy posits
that as a key ingredient for a critical theological reflection about life and
existence.)
A limit
experience can be described as a moment of intensification when something
major—be it an event, an overwhelmingly magnificent or evil person, extraordinary
beauty, a serious crisis or the like—so powerfully discloses the
mysteriousness of human existence that it necessarily calls for an effort on
the part of those experiencing this event as “a limit” to make some sense of this
event’s mysteriousness that transcends the limits of ordinary human
understanding (hence, “limit”). How to do that? By attempting an interpretation
of the experience (or “interpretive understanding”). That’s just a fancy way to
say: to put forward a possible explanation of the event. Of course, it is
obvious that the effort to make sense of limit experiences often takes place in
the midst of many strong positive and negative emotions, such as hope, faith,
love, anxiety, sadness, anger, fear, despair, etc., elicited by such powerful experiences.
*****
Albert Camus’ The Plague
As I
watched the “normal” world I knew rapidly “fall apart” in the face of the
pandemic with countries taking unprecedented steps (at least in our recent
memory) that practically stopped all semblance of normalcy in life for the
purpose of stemming the tide of the contagion (such as drastic lockdown
measures with their huge impact on ordinary social functions), I was reminded
of a novel of French literary figure and philosopher Albert Camus appropriately
entitled The Plague. This work reflects on human life and existence in the
light of a similar yet smaller scale event. And boy did the novel speak anew to
me in a powerful way! It brought home the naked fact that Covid-19 is perhaps the
big limit experience our generation has to go through in our lifetimes.
Camus’ novel
tells the story of an otherwise dull and predictable French colonial town on
the Algerian coast called Oran where a plague surfaces without warning in the
1940s. The protagonist is a medical doctor - Bernard Rieux who also acts as the
main narrator. The whole novel is filled with his experiences and reflections
on life as he works with quiet consistency on the frontlines of Oran’s plague.
Oran, we
can say, represents a typical place (“everyplace”) where people (“everyhuman”) go
on with their lives, attending to the many humdrum and ordinary occurrences in
life while taking things for granted as the unremarkable part of the
dull and boring normalcy of everyday existence. All this continues until a dark
spectre of impending doom appears on the scene. In Oran’s case, it is the
plague; in our case, it was Covid-19. And then, quite literally, all hell
breaks loose: people are terrified and panic; they withdraw and protect
themselves; they blame others; they sink into melancholy and despair; many (especially
among the vulnerable classes) succumb to the disease and die, sometimes without
anyone beside them. We are witnessing this tragedy happen as I write now in
places like Northern Italy, Spain, and New York.
The Plague and the
“Absurdity” of Life
Camus is
known for emphasizing what he called “the absurdity of life.” Apropos that, these
lines from an online YouTube video by The School of Life on Camus and The
Plague are just too good not to be mentioned in full here because it
explains Camus’ dominant intention for writing the novel:
Camus was drawn to this theme
because in his philosophy, we are all—unbeknownst to us—already living through
a plague: that is, a widespread, silent, invisible disease that may kill any of
us at any time and destroy the lives we assumed were solid. The actual
historical incidents we call plagues are merely concentrations of a universal precondition;
they are dramatic instances of a perpetual rule: that we are vulnerable to
being randomly exterminated by a bacillus, an accident, or the actions of our
fellow humans. Our exposure to plague is at the heart of Camus’ view that our
lives are fundamentally on the edge of what he termed “the absurd.” Proper
recognition of this absurdity should not lead us to despair pure and simple. It
should—rightly understood—be the start of a redemptive tragi-comic perspective.
Like the people of Oran before the plague, we assume that we have been granted immortality
and with this naivety come behaviours that Camus abhorred: a hardness of heart,
an obsession with status, a refusal of joy and gratitude, a tendency to
moralize and judge (School of Life, 2020).
Curiously,
for Camus, the fact that human life is absurd in this way because it can be
summarily rendered meaningless by death (through, say, a random infection from
a plague) was his very reason for advocating that we dedicate ourselves
to our “damned” fellow humans and “work without hope and despair for the
amelioration of suffering” (School of Life, 2020).
Is “Absurdity” the Best
Description?
I wonder
though: Isn’t Camus’ “absurdity” better rendered by other (more positive) concepts?
Take the Japanese concept of “hakanai” (ephemeral) as an example. When
the sakura (cherry blossom) trees break forth with their gloriously
beautiful flowers in the spring (normally in late March or early April in
Tokyo), the blossoms (especially in their full-bloom state called mankai)
last for a very short time—around 4-5 days at their peak of beauty. After that,
they start to fall and the pristine cherry-coloured trees turn into a more messy
mixed sight of pink and green. Because of this, we have a saying in Japanese
that goes like this: sakura wa hakanai kara koso utsukushii (The cherry
blossoms are beautiful, above all because they are so short-lived!).
Hence, the Japanese take advantage of that short time frame to admire, enjoy, and savour nature’s beauty by staging hana-mi (flower viewing) sessions where they celebrate life under the full-bloom sakura blossoms. Concretely, they savour the short-lived beauty of life symbolized by the cherry blossoms by, of course, viewing the sakura, but also eating, singing, drinking and getting drunk, and enjoying nature and the presence of people they hold dear. Isn’t that the spirit behind Camus’ so-called “absurd”? This wonderful thing called life is absurd (by that he seems to mean “so beautifully fragile and ephemeral”) so if we could do something to support and foster it in its fragile and ephemeral beauty, let’s do it!
Hence, the Japanese take advantage of that short time frame to admire, enjoy, and savour nature’s beauty by staging hana-mi (flower viewing) sessions where they celebrate life under the full-bloom sakura blossoms. Concretely, they savour the short-lived beauty of life symbolized by the cherry blossoms by, of course, viewing the sakura, but also eating, singing, drinking and getting drunk, and enjoying nature and the presence of people they hold dear. Isn’t that the spirit behind Camus’ so-called “absurd”? This wonderful thing called life is absurd (by that he seems to mean “so beautifully fragile and ephemeral”) so if we could do something to support and foster it in its fragile and ephemeral beauty, let’s do it!
Camus against the
Conventional Religious Views of His Time
In the
novel, this perspective on life as absurd is the one espoused by the
protagonist Dr. Rieux. His counterpart is the Jesuit priest Père Paneloux who,
at the height of the plague when many people are dying, preaches a sermon in
which he explains the plague as God’s punishment because of their sins. If they
take this as an occasion to repent, they would gain eternal life (Part 2). Later
on, Paneloux urges the townspeople to accept whatever happens in life as God’s
will (Part 4). The priest exemplifies typical religious ways of responding to calamities
– the ones often advocated by Christianity for most of its history. It is clear
though that Camus scoffs at this kind of response to disaster because key
figures in his story such as Dr. Rieux and the mysterious Monsieur Tarrou, who
selflessly volunteers to form sanitary squads to help move patients and corpses
at the height of the plague, do not believe in God while at the same time maintaining
a high standard of ethical principles and action – they dedicate themselves
tirelessly in service for the alleviation of the suffering of their fellow
townspeople.
The
narrator (who turns out to be Dr. Rieux himself) explains along the way that
since life is absurd in its arbitrariness with regard to the destruction of
life, the only way to combat an absurdity like the plague is for humans to band
together and struggle with all their might against what threatens life. Tarrou
even reflects that the plague is in a sense within everyone and the right thing
to do is to exercise the utmost care to infect as few people as possible.
This, I thought, is amazingly and prophetically relevant today because it is
what we commonly hear in our own pandemic experience in 2020! Tarrou and Rieux
are also portrayed as affirming life to the full especially in the scene where
they meet as friends to enjoy some moments of respite and relaxation and even
agree to go for a swim as an affirmation of their life and health (Part 4).
The Plague as an Existential
Condition
Back to
the story plot. The plague becomes even worse and many more people in Oran
succumb to it, even apparently P. Paneloux himself who passively submits to
treatment, gazing all the while at the cross. Tragically, even the selfless M.
Tarrou dies of the plague just a short time before the lockdown of the town is
to be eased. On this occasion, Dr. Rieux concludes that the only things one can
gain in the conflict between life and death are knowledge and memories.
Finally,
the situation becomes better as shown vividly by the reappearance of live rats
in the town. Eventually, the gates of the town are reopened and the crisis is
surpassed. As Dr. Rieux hears the happy sounds of the liberated townspeople, he
poignantly reflects on the plague and muses that this joy is actually always
an endangered one because the plague (as an existential condition) never
disappears for good. It is always lurking somewhere, ready to reappear for the
“bane and enlightening” of us all (Part 5).
... CONTINUED IN PART 2 ...
(Link to Part 2; Link to Part 3)
******
Works Cited and Other Works for Further Study
Cupitt, Don (2015). Creative Faith: Religion as a Way of Worldmaking. Salem, OR: Polebridge.
______ (1999). The New Religion of Life in Everyday Speech. London: SCM.
Gregg, Carl (2012). “Do We Need a Moratorium on ‘God’?” Patheos, Published October 8, 2012. Accessed April 22, 2020. https://www.patheos.com/blogs/carlgregg/2012/10/do-we-need-a-moratorium-on-the-word-god/.
Johnson, Elizabeth (2007). Quest for the Living God: Mapping Frontiers in the Theology of God. London: Bloombsury.
Küng, Hans (1981). Does God Exist? An Answer for Today. New York: Vintage.
School of Life (2020). “Albert Camus – The Plague.” YouTube Video, April 1, 2020. Accessed April 20, 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSYPwX4NPg4&t=62s.
N.T. Wright (2020). “Christianity Offers No Answers About the Coronavirus. It's Not Supposed To.” Time, March 29, 2020. Accessed April 12, 2020. https://time.com/5808495/coronavirus-christianity/.
*****
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