Morceau accidentally killed an Arab out of physiological instinct.
But after some reasoning by the prosecutor, his crime immediately rose to the level of heinous intentional homicide.
Of course, the prosecutor's reasoning did not deviate from reality, and his evidence was interlocked until it went back to the funeral of Morceau's mother.
So what exactly did Mossol do at his mother's funeral that the prosecutor would have condemned him to death for it?
Hello everyone, today brings you the work "The Outsider" by Albert Camus of France.
"Today, Mom is dead. Maybe it was yesterday, and I couldn't figure it out. “
This was Morceau's reaction after receiving an ominous telegram from a nursing home, and he did not even know when his mother died.
Morceau hadn't actually visited his mother in a year.
With limited salaries and loneliness in old age, Morceau had to send his mother to a nursing home. At least in nursing homes, there will be someone to take care of her, and there will be people of the same age with her.
At home, the mother would sit silently for a day.
Moreover, after being sent to the nursing home, Morceau came again to pick up his mother, who was very unaccustomed and often cried silently.
For this reason, Morceau has never visited his mother since last year, and of course there are reasons why the road is long, time-consuming and costly.
Morceau still squeezed into the bus after work, got on the bus again, and then walked for two hours, spanning more than eighty kilometers to guard the mother's spirit.
When Morceau arrived, her mother's coffin was closed and the screws on the coffin were shining.
The concierge ran over and tried to open the coffin for Morceau and let him see his mother one last time.
Morceau stopped, frankly: "No".
Morceau couldn't tell what it felt like, but he was a little embarrassed, and everyone expected him to cry as a sign of the undead.
But Morceau didn't want to cry, it wasn't a feeling of indifference to his mother's death, it was just that he didn't want to cry
Allowing some people to face the impact is subconsciously evasive and quiet.
In his mother's spiritual room, Morceau drank milk coffee, smoked a cigarette, and dozed off for a while.
In fact, it is hesitant, will it be too much to do this in front of the mother's body?
But Morceau thought for a moment that the deceased was gone, and these were just harmless acts.
After a while, his mother's residents also came to guard the spirit, which was the custom of the nursing home, but Morceau felt that these people seemed to come to judge him.
They came in quietly, like ghosts without making a single sound.
They all sat across from Morceau, looking at Morceau with their wrinkled, cloudy eyes, nodding their heads with restraint, confusing their heads.
After a while, one of the old women sobbed in a low voice.
Others were depressed and sad, some staring at the coffin, some staring at the cane, anyway, staring at one thing, and then there was no sound.
Morceau was very reluctant to hear the old woman cry like this, and he was always at odds with these people.
He was thinking:
So close to death, My mother must have felt relieved and was ready to do it all over again. No one, no one has the right to cry at her. ”
This reminds people of Zhuangzi's "fang ji drum and pot singing" after his wife's death, not because he did not have the pain of losing his wife, but because the great thinker believed that his wife's death was a kind of "detachment", and he should not be sad, but should be happy.
Yes, Morceau had his own ideas, so after his mother died, he did not shed a single tear.
Instead, the silence of the whole audience made Morceau breathless.
Thus ended the night of groggy vigil.
Morso dozed off several times, and the old men curled up one by one.
Only one old man had his chin on the back of his crutched hand, his eyes fixed on Morceau, as if observing something.
When this suffering was over, everyone was dead in the face.
The next step was the funeral, and the old men didn't have to go, only the dean and Morceau went to the funeral.
The dean sighed: "This is a humane issue. ”
In nursing homes, those elderly people can only participate in the vigil, but can not go to the funeral, which undoubtedly alleviates the degree of involvement of the elderly.
But the dean must not have considered what the wishes of the elderly were, and the real humanity should be that the elderly can follow their personal wishes to decide whether to participate in a series of burial activities.
Of course, in the collective life to follow their own wishes will appear "impersonal", simply make "humane" rules to make things appear decent and convenient.
When the funeral procession set off, the sun was hanging high in the sky, and the heat was overwhelming, straight to the earth.
Morceau was already impatient, and he did not understand why the ink had not yet gone.
The surrounding fields were already filled with the noise of insects and grass, the heat rose, sweat flowed all over his cheeks, and Morceau couldn't help but take a handkerchief to fan the wind.
The dean followed solemnly, looking serious, and some beads of sweat oozed from his forehead, but there was no small movement.
Everything after that went quickly.
People were wearing gloomy black clothes, and the coffin was also shiny black, and Morceau was in it, very dizzy, coupled with the tiredness of a night's sleep, the dry heat of the sun, making Morceau even more dizzy.
He couldn't remember exactly what the funeral had done, everything was so routine, and when his mother's coffin was sprinkled with blood-red dirt, Morceau was about to get away from here.
Morceau was overjoyed when he got into his car and drove to the city, thinking that he was about to lie in bed for 12 hours.
The next day was Saturday, and Morceau decided to go for a swim.
He plunged headlong into the lane and saw Mary.
Mary had been colleagues with Morceau before, and the two had a good relationship at the time, but soon after Mary resigned and left, they were too late to get better.
In the water, Morceau wrapped his arms around Mary's waist and asked if she wanted to see a movie at night.
Mary didn't refuse, she kept laughing, and the girl didn't refuse when she faced the invitation was to agree.
So Morceau planned to put on clothes to take Mary to a movie, which was a sign of mourning when he fastened his black tie.
Mary was a little surprised and took a step back in shock, but didn't say anything.
This was insignificant to Morceau, who felt there was nothing to explain, "Anyway, there has to be something wrong with people." The ideas of the people have nothing to do with him, and he always has to live for himself.
The movie is not good, but the relationship between the two has grown by leaps and bounds, and the touching of each other in the dark is heart-pounding.
After the film, Mary accompanies Morceau to his quarters.
After Mary left, Morceau was bored for a while.
He sat in front of the window and watched the crowds of people get busy.
His mother has been buried, and his life has not changed in the slightest, busy is also someone else's, life is still the same.
There was a neighbor on the same floor named Raymond, who was short, broad-shouldered, and had a slumped nose.
It was not very popular, but he liked to talk to Morceau and often invited Morceau to sit in his room.
This time, too, I was chatting with Morceau, and as I spoke, I took a rather dirty roll of gauze out of my pocket and bandaged my right hand.
Raymond had just gotten into a fight with a troublesome guy and began to ask Morceau if he would like to be his friend.
Morceau sat on the bed and said very frankly, "You can do whatever you want."
Raymond was so pleased that he took out the sausages, cooked them on the stove, and then placed the wine glasses, plates, knives and forks, and two bottles of wine.
Eating and chatting with Morceau, he had fun and told his story.
The guy who was looking for trouble was the brother of Raymond's lover, who didn't work and spent money like water and was unfaithful to Raymond.
Raymond angrily beat her lover a few times, but still had feelings for her, and wanted to ask Morceau to help her write a letter insulting her and making her regretful.
Morceau helped Raymond write the letter, which was very casual.
In fact, it didn't matter to him whether he was a friend or not, even if Mary asked him if he loved himself, Morceau also felt that this question was meaningless.
Morceau was sure that he did not love Mary, but it was okay to marry or not, and if Mary was going to get married, then get married, and it didn't matter to Morceau.
Raymond then invited Morceau to a nearby beach house for Sundays, and Morceau took his girlfriend with him.
As they set off, a group of Arabs were standing in front of the smoke shop window, looking at them coldly, and Raymond said that one of the guys was his lover's brother.
The sea was calm and blue, and in the distance, a small trawler could be seen slowly approaching.
People walking on the beach, accompanied by cool water, very cozy.
But in the afternoon, the sun is almost directly on the beach, and the strong reflection on the sea makes people unable to open their eyes, and the heat rises from the soles of their feet, making people breathless.
Then the Arabs came.
Raymond's men subconsciously reached into their pockets to touch the gun, but the other party did not move.
Raymond stared into his opponent's eyes and asked Morceau if he wanted to break the man.
There was silence and heat all around, and Morceau actually wanted to say "no", and he was afraid that Raymond was impatient, and he was annoyed and had to shoot.
He gently asked Raymond to hand over the pistol to himself and shoot for him.
As soon as the pistols were taken out, the Arabs began to retreat backwards, and soon slipped behind the big rocks.
An accident was resolved.
But, unexpectedly, Morceau shot himself.
At that time, he walked alone on the beach.
The beach is full of heat, the sea is rapidly and suffocating, the layers of waves are lapping at the sandy shore, and the sunlight falls on the gravel and shells at this time, constantly reflecting the lightsabers, stabbing people's eyes.
Morceau was so surprised to see the Arab, he was lying on his back alone, his hands behind his head, and as soon as he saw Morceau, he got up slightly and put his hand in his pocket.
Morceau naturally clutched Raymond's pistol in his pocket.
At this time, the sun was burning people's faces, and beads of sweat had gathered on their brows, just like the sun on the day of the burial of their mother, which was uncomfortable, and Morceau could not help but take a step forward.
At this moment, the Arab immediately drew his dangling knife and aimed it at Morceau in the sunlight.
Beads of sweat gathered across his brow, a stream of brain flowed to his eyelids, and Morceau felt his vision blur, and the hot tip of the knife shone like a dazzling sword straight to the door of his head.
Morceau felt the world spinning at the moment, his whole body tense, and in that instant, his hand touched the smooth butt of his gun, accompanied by a deafening sound, and it was all over.
When Morceau shook off the sweat, he fired four more shots at the corpse, quick and weak, completely breaking the silence on the beach.
When Morceau was arrested, he was interrogated several times in a row.
Curiously, the judicial interrogation was not interested in the ins and outs of the homicide case, but instead focused on understanding Morceau's private life, especially his performance after his mother's death.
A lawyer who had visited Morceau in prison claimed that he was sure of winning the case, and the key was that Morceau had to do as he said.
It would have been crucial that the pre-trial agents had learned that Morceau had acted "indifferent" on the day of his mother's burial, and morceau had better say that he had controlled his grief that day so that he did not cry.
But Morceau did not understand what the events of the day of the burial had to do with his own crimes.
He rejected the lawyer's offer, which for him was a lie, and Morceau disdained to tell a lie.
When Morceau was taken to the courtroom, the whole hall, the crowd was full, and everyone was staring at Morceau.
The crowd of people in the hall with closed doors and windows made Morceau a little dizzy, and when he looked at the courtroom, no one's face was clear.
There were too many people, but they were all strangers, and the bailiff on the sidelines told Morceau that it was the result of newspaper hype.
It wasn't until the courtroom rang its bell that the scene quieted down.
The lawyer shook hands with the newspaper reporter, joked with his colleagues, and finally came to Morceau, shook hands with him, and instructed him to speak briefly, not to take the initiative to speak, and the rest of him to do the work.
In fact, Morceau had no intention of killing, and impulsive stress should have been punishable.
But the judges have raised the issue of the case itself, and they have focused on asking Morceau questions about his mother's death, his relationship with his girlfriend Mary, and focusing on his social moral problems, far more than the case itself.
The prosecutor even stood up excitedly, looked solemn, and accused Morceau word by word, that on the day after his mother's burial, he went to entertain, to engage in improper male-female relations, and began to laugh loudly, then he was a ruthless and deliberate murderer.
After saying this, the whole audience is silent, and the person who sets the moral benchmark first is often the most convincing, and once you refute it, there is no "morality".
In fact, during the debate between the lawyer and the prosecutor, Morceau wanted to speak many times.
For he was already vaguely uneasy, and all the people were pronouncing him guilty, and his sins were unforgivable.
Yes, he should not have shot the Arab, he was sorry, but the trial did not seem to have anything to do with him.
Morceau's lawyer told him, "Don't speak up, it's better for your case," even when the president pronounced the verdict to behead Morceau in a square and asked if he had anything to say.
The lawyer took Morceau's arm, and Morceau thought about it for a moment and said "no."
In fact, Morceau didn't know what he could say anymore.
The court handled the case entirely on its own, and their fate was decided by them, and there was no need to consult them at all.
They were emotionally agitated, and Morceau himself knew himself better.
Morceau did not care, and he refused to let the priest pray for him.
The God that the priest reveres has nothing to do with him, he will face death without hesitation, just like a mother, and maybe everything can be started all over again.
But "for the sake of good beginnings and ends, the perfection of merit, in order not to feel that he belongs to a different kind", Morceau expected that on the day of his execution, many people came to see the hilarity, and they all shouted hatred to Morceau.
There is no doubt that Camus was presenting an absurd world in which people fully flaunt morality, even replacing law with morality. Once touched, it is as intolerable as Morceau.
But we still encounter many choices in real life, as Camus said:
"Most people are always inconsistent, and what they often do is not what their hearts really desire. They all have a sense of socialism, fear of being alienated and excluded, afraid of being alone and unreliable. ”
And as we survive in this world, we have to measure ourselves by worldly standards.