All these murders, all these trials. It’s almost too obvious to say that they’re connected. It would be like saying, “Hey, I found a literary link – both Emma Bovary and Anna Karenina had affairs!”
I’d like to think that there is little bit more to the one that I found between Native Son and The Stranger, though. Sure, they both murdered the innocent. Sure, they both spent a great bulk of their stories in the court of law. Sure, they both met the same demise.
The real similarity though, exists in their counterintuitive reaction to the death they caused. Both men found murder to be the beginning, yes beginning of their lives. Here we have it from Monsieur Meursault himself.
The trigger gave; I felt the smooth underside of the butt; and there, in that noise, sharp and deafening at the same time, is where it all started.