Meursault’s act of murder is merely an act of desperation. He had only to feel that the sun was slowly boiling inside him. As he says:
“It occurred to me that all I had to do was turn around and that would be the end of it. But the whole beach, throbbing in the sun, was straining my back.
Meursault’s heartbreaking sorrow for his mother, who could not find release during her funeral, bursts forth suddenly before the Arab is shot. The sun – acting as both a pressure cooker and a memento – inspires her to act.
If there had been no sun, if there had been a moonlit night or a cloudy afternoon, Meursault would not have remembered his mother, despair would not have risen within him, and he would not have fired four shots at the Arab.
I probably feel as though I am forgiving Meursault, even though he may have committed the crime. That is not true. I find something resonant in the character, but I would never say he’s not guilty. Perhaps the appropriate way of phrasing the situation is that while it is factually true that Meursault is guilty of murder, it is also true that he is not entirely responsible.
Meursault’s mother died in Marengo, Algeria – a place near the Tyrrhenian Sea. When he kills the Arab, he is on the seashore, on which sunlight is falling. The sun and the sea – together – remind him of his mother’s death and drive him to commit murder.
But, in those same words, we can see that Meursault is guilty. After all, in French, Meursault means ‘of the sun and the sea’.