There were several thoughts that made an impression on me which I would like to share.
At the beginning of the book we see rats come above ground and die by the hundreds. The news reports on this phenomenon, but eventually all the rats are dead. Then men start dying, but the news doesn't create such a story of it: "For rats died in the street; men in their homes. And newspapers are concerned only with the street." It is interesting to consider the degree to which the news now concerns itself with peoples homes, but it is also interesting to note the degree to which the news still concerns itself with 'the street,' in the derogatory sense.
"All of us know, whether consciously or not, that there is no love which can't be bettered; nevertheless, we reconcile ourselves more or less easily to the fact that ours has never risen above the average." This book is full of honest expressions about life and our complacency in it, and this is one that cut a little deeper in my mind. If we did not reconcile ourselves so easily to do with what we have; if we chose to improve what we know could bring us so much more joy - would not the level of beauty in our lives be worth that effort?
The narrator has expounded on the business of the doctors and town servants during the time of this plague. The incredible strain they must be under is notable at first in the absence of comment on it. Then the reader is led through a side story of a journalist who works for nothing other than to escape the sealed city. We hear him, the young man who can think only of himself, state what was obvious about all the others: "The only thing gained by all this expenditure of energy was that it served to keep his mind off his predicament." And he says it with a hint of bitterness. Chew on that for a moment - that this young man is bitter about a blessing brought to him by strife. Are we not all beggars? Let us then beg for the things that matter, and if so doing keeps our minds off our trials, let us be grateful to God.
When at last the plague is waning - after a seeming eternity, and so much suffering - there is some discussion about the city returning " 'to normal life in the near future.' 'Granted!" [the conversation-mate] rejoined. "But what do you mean by 'a return to normal life'?' Tarrou smiled. 'New films at the picture-houses.' " Now, you may not find that statement particularly remarkable, but based on the fact that this gentleman has been incredibly insightful throughout the book, his opinion of 'normal' deserves a second look. It is important to note that throughout the entire course of the plague, the attendance at picture-houses did not wane. People were in need of entertainment in their cooped-up city, and they had it, despite the same shows being on the screen over and over. So Tarrou is not referring to people getting out more, nor is he inferring that he is looking forward to seeing a new picture, as he doesn't seem to be the picture-going type. His comment encompasses the whole notion of what it will mean to open the city - new people on the rail platform, new ships in the harbor, new patrons at the hotels. I believe he is referring to the idea that 'normal' will be completely new to everybody in every way - from finally seeing a long-absent loved one to paying non-inflated prices for groceries.
The main character in the novel is Dr. Rieux, whom the reader follows through every stage, condition, and step of the plague. Just before the city is to reopen, he considers that those who have past on have "lost the match... But what had he, Rieux, won? No more than the experience of having known the plague and remembering it, of having known friendship and remembering it, of knowing affection and being destined one day to remember it. So all a man could win in the conflict between plague and life was knowledge and memories. But Tarrou, perhaps, would have called that winning the match." And isn't that the purpose of our lives? Gaining knowledge and memories and helping others to do the same? We set examples, work, live, love, and trust that it is enough. If the road we are traveling through this life is the one leading to God's kingdom, then that is enough.
And now we return to the young man who, at the start of the plague, desired nothing more than to escape the city. In the intervening months he truly gained purpose and insight about life and chose to stay in the city when he could have been smuggled out. "Soon he would have to confront a love and a devotion that the plague months had slowly refined to a pale abstraction... If only he could put the clock back and be once more the man who, at the outbreak of the epidemic, had had only one thought and one desire: to escape and return tot he woman he loved! But that, he knew, was out of the question now; he had changed too greatly. The plague had forced on him a detachment which, try as he might, he couldn't think away..." He had changed too greatly, and with no time to focus on himself, he no longer knew who he was or how he could grow back into the life he had wanted so desperately just months before. Priorities change with circumstances, and both of those change the people in them.
Finally, we come to the feeling one is left with after reading this novel of death and suffering. I am tagging the post about this book 'Read Again' because I feel the book warrants it, but you may know that it will be a long time before I do. The book is grueling and requires strength to get through, but the feeling one is left with is not that of disgust. It is one of respect for those who will rise to the occasions they find themselves in. This "chronicle [is a] witness... that there are more things to admire in men than to despise.
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