Rochester's suspicion

Seeing Rochester's stay in Granbois slowly turning into a disaster, I longed for the feeling of true vacation, which I had experienced while reading The Sun Also Rises. Man, did Jake and Bill know how to have a good time. Rochester did not sit back, prop up his feet, and relax like I expected him to. One aspect of Granbois that was disconcerting to him was the presence of black servants.

The first part of this problem is that Rochester sees the servants as primitive. He talks about them like he's examining a new species of animal, especially when he takes interest in the blacks' physical features: "(Peering at me. (Do their eyes get smaller as they grow older? Smaller, beadier, more inquisitive?) After that I thought I saw the same expression on all their faces" (Rhys 77). The last sentence gave me the feeling that Rochester had the "they're all the same" mentality. This same mentality comes up again when he comments on Baptiste's facial expression, and how Rochester uses the phrase "these people". I understand this aspect of Rochester's reaction to Granbois; when one is an outsider and being bombarded by new sights and smells, it helps to simplify some parts of the overwhelming experience.

The second part of his problem, which is closely related to the first point, is that Rochester does not trust the black servants. He does not trust the locals like Jake and Bill trusted the Basques. I don't think Rochester explicitly says that he distrusts these servants, but there are some clues: "She gave me a bulky envelope addressed in careful copperplate... Then I saw Baptiste standing near the veranda steps, put the letter in my pocket and forgot it" (Rhys 95). No wonder Rochester is having a miserable time; he feels like he doesn't have enough privacy. He begins to feel like people are watching him, which shows when he thinks Hilda and Amelie are laughing at him.

After writing this, I now realize that Rochester's situation is much different than Jake and Bill's. Rochester is playing the role of the second-born son, and cannot just relax. He is letting these servants mess with his mind. All the time spent worrying about the servants could be used to connect with Antionette.

Meursault and "natural"

In Albert Camus' The Stranger, Meursault sees the plausibility of the prosecutor's argument that the murder of the Arab was premeditated:
               The gist of what he was saying, if I understood him correctly, was that my crime was  premeditated. . . . I thought his way of viewing the events had a certain consistency. What he was saying was plausible. I had agreed with Raymond to write the letter in order to lure his mistress . . . I had gone back alone intending to use it. I had shot the Arab as I planned. I had waited. And to make sure I had done the job right, I fired four more shots, calmly, point-blank—thoughtfully, as it were. (Camus 99)

While reading this passage I was struck by how objective Meursault is when describing what the prosecutor was saying. In the passages following, Meursault still does not reveal too much emotional response to the prosecutor's harsh judgement of him. This formed a "go with the flow" type of Meursault in my mind, one that isn't exactly apathetic, but one that sees everything as having a reason.

One example I have that shows Meursault as avoiding conflict by coping with distress is his use of the word "natural" to describe things that normal people don't think of as that.
1). Meursault sees the initial hearing as natural:
        As the magistrate had put it, my case was taking its course. And then sometimes, when the conversation was of a general nature, I would be included. I started to breathe more freely. No one, in any of these meetings, was rough on me. Everything was so natural, so well handled, and so calmly acted out that I had the ridiculous impression of being "one of the family." (Camus 70)

2). Meursault finds a Czechoslovakian newspaper scrap under his jail mattress:
       The mother hanged herself. The sister threw herself down a well. I must have read that story a thousand times. On the one hand it wasn't very likely. On the other, it was perfectly natural. (Camus 80)

In both cases, Meursault does not have normal-people feelings towards things like his own trial and a family-death story. He labels them as natural instead.

Natural. It carries a similar meaning as "I thought his way of viewing the events had a certain consistency. What he was saying was plausible" (Camus 99), in that it praises something's smoothness when that something isn't normally thought of as smooth. This changes Meursult as a character for me, because now I can see a reason for the sun for having such a big effect on him. I can just picture him thinking: The sun was hot on my face. Pulling the trigger was a disgusting act, but it felt natural...