This quote made me think about the many ways we’ve seen populations of people around the world respond to our plague, swiftly or not-so-swiftly accepting “the idea of the disease.” In today’s pages Camus continues to explore the beginning stages of the way this is hitting Oran — shops and offices close, and “many people, …reduced to inactivity, …filled the streets and cafés.” They go to the movies! And the grocer who “stockpiled supplies so he could sell them at a large profit,” found with tins of food under his bed when they took him to the hospital. We have all been seeing behaviors that echo these (as well, of course, as behavior that is in effect the opposite). I was touched too by the conversation with the journalist who is now trapped in Oran, separated from the woman he loves — “‘I wasn’t put on this earth to make reports; but perhaps I was put on earth to live with a woman.'” We are all also experiencing now, for better and worse, the ways our moment is forcing us to wrestle with what really matters; also how difficult it can be to grasp these things, even if we can recognize what they are.

FOR TOMORROW: Read next 7 pages, up to the end of the paragraph that begins “Outside the rain…”

In our first meeting today (thank you again to all who joined!!) we spoke about how Camus’ book, written as an allegory, reads so eerily today as a realistic playbook. Today’s pages were astounding again in this light: here the narrator speaks of “exile,” the citizens of the town cut off from each other and from their loved ones elsewhere, “prisoners” in their quarantine. “…That unreasonable desire to go backwards or, on the contrary, to speed up the march of time, those burning arrows of memory – all this really did amount to a feeling of exile.” He writes of the strange sense of time we are all dealing with — hope for the future, without knowing when the future will arrive, creates despair, but then the lack of  imagination for the future is a different kind of prison. “Impatient with the present, hostile to the past and deprived of a future, we really did then resemble those whom justice or human hatred has forced to live behind bars…But, though this was exile, in most cases it was exile at home.” 

FOR TOMORROW: Read next 7 pages, up to, in dialogue, “‘Perhaps you don’t realize what a separation such as this means for two people who are fond of one another.'” 

Rieux tells the Prefecture that what they are doing is not enough. In response, the Prefecture says he will ask for “instructions” from the State government, to which Rieux responds with the above. I am struck by the word “imagination” here – is this the correct translation, for those reading the French? – and wonder how Rieux means it. Today’s pages seemed to me to be all about fear – the theme comes up again and again. Rieux is afraid, and pushes it away; the sick are afraid; the townspeople are beginning to be afraid; and at the end of Part One, it seems the State government is afraid, issuing the edict to “close the town.” Somehow I feel that word “imagination” is going to continue to reverberate as we move forward, a need that is perhaps likely to be unmet…? 

FIRST ZOOM CALL TOMORROW AT 2pm EASTERN on the Narrative Medicine zoom: https://zoom.us/j/3572167251 Join us! All are welcome. 

FOR SUNDAY (but not before the meeting!): Read to the end of the first section in Part II. 

The meeting of the doctors at the Prefecture is fascinating. If they declare that the disease is the plague, “then they will have to take stern measures,” so they hesitate to declare it. Rieux argues that it doesn’t matter what you call it – “all that matters is that you stop it killing half the town.” Impossible to read this scene today in America and not think about the language that has and has not been used to describe and warn the public, to lead (and of course to mislead) action and inaction. Is public “panic” a thing that can be avoided? Rieux is rightly concerned with halting the disease, no matter what it is called, which can only be done through preventative health measures – though how interesting that early in this pages he says “‘perhaps we should make up our minds to call this disease by its proper name.'” #camustheplague #nmbookclub

FOR TOMORROW: Read to the end of Part 1!

And don’t forget to join our FIRST ZOOM CALL on Sunday at 2pm Eastern on the Narrative Medicine zoom — https://zoom.us/j/3572167251

This idea of illness as equalizer (though technically in this quote they are talking about the plague of rats and not yet of humans) really resonates in today’s pages. There’s another moment in these pages where this comes up — when Tarrou is describing the two tram conductors talking about someone who has died: “‘Even so, he seemed like anyone else,'” says one, and the other answers “‘No, he had a weak chest.'” We see people doing this so much these days, too, trying to find the reason why one person succumbs where another doesn’t, as if there is a map to follow, a clear way to reliably separate the population into categories. What happens if we are are all “like everybody?”

I’m also very interested in the way the narrator is taking shape … he reliably refers to “our” town, but then never uses the first person, referring instead repeatedly to “the narrator” in the third person. Also interesting how the narrator is beginning to bring in other “sources,” while maintaining a main narrative voice that nonetheless seems to know things that he probably wouldn’t, unless the narrator is actually Rieux himself? (I’m sure many of you already know the answer here but please don’t reveal it yet!) 

FOR TOMORROW: Read the next 7 or so pages (actually tomorrow it’s more like 8!), up to “The main thing was to do one’s job well.” 

ALSO ANNOUNCING OUR FIRST ZOOM MEETING TIME! Sunday, April 5th, at 2pm Eastern via Narrative Medicine Zoom.

For today, Tuesday March 31st, we read up to: “He was now complaining of internal pains.”

The ominousness is building in today’s pages. I thought the above quote was so powerful for how it shows the way Rieux’s consciousness is changing in the face of the threat; the rats become the symbol of the fear, the sense of what’s on the horizon. Also so interesting the way that class is already playing in here — “some families who had seaside homes were already talking about escaping to them,” and the civil servant who says “‘I have other concerns.'” Struck too by Infodoc, “the agency for information and documentation,” and the fact that when the numbers are shared, it gives “a clear meaning to the daily spectacle that everyone had in front of their eyes” — that disconnect between statistics and lived reality, and how it can be one or the other of these things that brings a truth home to us. (And dare we point to the way the authorities are handling things? “The authorities had not considered or planned anything at all, but started by holding a council meeting to discuss it.” Sounds familiar…) — Nellie.

Please feel free to add to the discussion and join in with Nellie below, or on any of your social media channels using #NMBookClub and #CamusThePlague!

FOR TOMORROW: read the next 7 pages, up to “‘Let me know if you have any other cases,’ said Rieux.”

Welcome to day one of the Narrative Medicine book club! We will be reading at the pace of about seven pages per day, depending on your chosen edition and mode of reading: print, electronic, or audible book. For today, Monday March 30^th, 2020, we will be reading up to the sentence: “he wanted to know if the journalist could tell the truth.”

Remember – no need to register to join us, and don’t worry if you don’t have the book yet! We will be reading very slowly, so it will be easy to catch up, and because the club is virtual, you can follow along at your own pace. Feel free to join the discussion here, or just use #NMBookClub and #CamusThePlague to post comments or questions and follow along on social media. Later this week we will announce our first virtual Zoom meeting for those who want to discuss in person.

Some initial thoughts on today’s reading: 

“Camus very carefully sets up this fictional town, Oran, as an “ordinary,” “neutral” place, a “town without inklings,” “an entirely modern town” – and as such, a town where it is difficult to die. He says this on page 2! I wonder how many of you recognized our capitalist society in this description on the second page. What do you think this brief introduction does for the book, the way we enter the novel, as the narrator sets us up to enter the “history” he is giving us? (Also, given our moment, did anyone else feel a chill of terror when the concierge holds the dead rats by their tails? Wash your hands, concierge!)” – Nellie Hermann

Please feel free to add to the discussion and join in with Nellie below, or on any of our social media channels!

For tomorrow, March 31^st 2020, read next seven pages, up to: “He was now complaining of internal pains.”