i like camus' writing style; his smooth yet visceral tone and the way he weaves nature into almost anything. i don't know what the book's intention was, in honesty, i dont quite recall what it was about; i am left with fleeting recollections of wonderful prose; in mersault, i found a kindred spirit; his thirst for solitude and his subsequent  disappointment at what he finds in it; his fear of silence and flock to crowded cafes  to ease the quiet  abyss. 

there was a hint of Raskolnikov about mersault, i am tempted to re-read crime and punishment, to glean where the similarities lie. mersault chased a happy death, and he found dredges of it. what did Raskolnikov seek and did he find it? 

3 stars because it moved me; 3 stars because i will and have in fact forgotten it