There are many good reasons to like this book, which I recently finished listening to while walking The Dog this morning. Although I have a special reason for my affection for this work. Near the end of the book I found myself completing the thoughts of the main character, Meursault, before the narrator completed speaking them into my earbuds. I think this is because Meursault, given the circumstance he finds himself in, responds to the prison chaplain in the same way I expect I would, or would like to think I would. In my head I was literally completing Meursault’s sentences. And this wasn’t a case of me unconsciously reading ahead, because I wasn’t reading words on a page with my eyes, I was hearing the words with my ears. I remain quite curious and fascinated by this modality for experiencing art.
Again, this morning, I was in a dream-state walking down the middle of the street like I were a Solipsist. Unconsciously holding tight the handle of a retractable leash while Chloe flitted about, tethered at the other end. Proving that Solipsism is wrong, I snapped out of it when another apparent homo sapien and her canine appeared suddenly. Relieved I was not, in fact, a brain in a vat, I tapped my right bud to pause the narration. In this mode the buds still attenuate ambient noise, so barely was I able to hear her announce herself as Lisa, and this is Luka, I believe she said. The woman had Asian features, Luka did not. She told me she’d recently moved to the northwest from somewhere in the southwest, and, I suppose to make light conversation with a stranger, added that she’d hoped Luka would adjust to the change in weather. I instantly supposed it was Lisa who was the one feeling trepidation about the change in weather, but then projecting the concern onto her dog. Then, just as instantly, I felt a tinge of regret, that if I was wrong to attribute the concern to Lisa, then I may have maligned Lisa in my mind, so I said to Lisa, I’m sure Luka will get along just fine up here, and, welcome to the neighborhood. In a sweetly squeaky voice she said, Thank You! By now the dogs had become tangled up in their leashes so I reached down and unclipped Chloe. Lisa kept Luka leashed. The two dogs played for a while. Lisa and I were out of things to say so we watched the dogs play and said nothing more to each other. Eventually, I put Chloe back on the leash, she pirouetted and gave Luka a swooshy-tailed goodbye, and then we moved on. As we walked away, I re-tapped my right bud to resume listening to the last pages of the book, Mersault’s final lament. The sky was blue, the air was warm, we were under a mile from home.
…
We’re on the road again tomorrow, out of the country, the three of us destined for a multi-day adventure in a foreign land. HW is provisioning us as I write. Let no man put asunder.