Albert Camus and the Search for True Freedom
Happy Sunday!
Well… since last we spoke, there has been a major shift in the politics of the United States of America. That's to put it lightly… of course this character has an opinion about the results of the election, but that really doesn't matter. What matters truly is how we contextualize these things that seem to be happening in the world.
If we look at everything in the lens of duality versus non duality, the idea of Elections is right at the top of examples of how the ego creates duality and therefore that duality creates suffering. Just think about that for a moment. There's always a winner and there's always a loser. And in the United States there is only two parties basically to pick from. Which makes it even more of a dualistic premise that we are forced into. I take that back that it seems that we're forced into.
It really does make me think about the quote that I use so many times that you're probably sick of it by now. It is the quote that I have on the main page of my website because I feel like it is so applicable to so many things.
The trouble with the Rat Race is that even if you win you are still a rat.
~Lilly Tomlin
I hope that whatever side you're on you can see how this quote directly addresses the election and how we deal with our reaction to the election, and even who we think we really are... This leads directly to today's article that explores the novel The Fall by Albert Camus. I wanted to write about Camus for a while now, and now seems like the perfect time.
I am very aware that many of you probably have not even encountered the writers that I am talking about here. In fact, after my last article and video about Samuel Beckett I had many people unsubscribe from my YouTube channel and from here on Substack. It was a very interesting experience. And that is totally fine with me. If there's anything that I want to encourage in any of the work that I do is to follow what feels right to you. And sharing the revelations and teachings of these particular writers and philosophers is something I feel very strongly about. That is why I am writing these articles.
Everyone has a choice, but I would strongly encourage you to challenge yourself with these writers and philosophies because expanding our minds and educating ourselves beyond our small little universe is the way and the path to true internal freedom.
Thanks so much for all of your support and continuing to come back here. I really appreciate it.
Talk to you soon,
Max 💖💫
Albert Camus and the Search for True Freedom
This is the second in a series of articles based on absurdist and existential writers that really have shaped how I see and how I saw reality. My hope with these articles is that if you’re open to it delving into this type of literature can really open parts of your perception and your mind that you might not be familiar with. I hope that you can read these articles with that in mind.
It is very interesting how life works. It is very absurd in many ways. Sometimes it feels like it is all pre planned. It comes back to the idea of predetermined destiny or random chaos does it have to be one or the other? Or can both be true? In duality we are always being pushed to choose one or the other, either things are logical, or they are completely absurd. That is a trap. They can be both or they can be none. Speaking of logical or random, lately for some reason quotes by Albert Camus have been coming up in my social media. And it really made me start to think about how much his work has really affected my way of thinking about the world and reality. In fact, one of the quotes that came up really hit home for me and I want to share it with you now.
“The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free That your very existence is an act of rebellion.”
~ Albert Camus
When I read that it hit me very close to the core of why I speak about what I speak about. My immediate thought was that next time someone asks me what I do for a living I’m going to tell them this quote. The reason that is that it is hard to really narrow down what it is that I do for a living and what it is I do for people who listen to me or read my work. But this quote really does say at all. My main interest for myself and if anyone else is interested, is the idea of real freedom and how it is available to us beyond what we ever imagined. But today, I want to focus on one particular novel of Albert Camus that I feel is accessible and the first one of his that I was exposed to. I hope that I can begin to relay to you the depth of content in this very short little novel.
When I first encountered The Fall by Albert Camus in college, I was instantly pulled into a deep spiral of questions about life and its meaning. Camus was one of the first writers to articulate something I had always felt but couldn’t name—a sense of existential confusion, as though life had an undeniable absurdity to it. But what was even more profound was the way this novel started me on a journey, a journey that led me to question everything I thought I knew about life, meaning, and my place within it. Today, I want to bring Camus’s themes in The Fall closer to a modern understanding and show how his ideas—especially the way he questions ego, judgment, and the masks we wear—align with the principles of non-duality.
Whether or not you’re familiar with The Fall, you’ve likely brushed up against its themes. Imagine a person who looks perfectly good on the outside, respected in his community, successful in his career, but inside, he’s wrestling with a sense of emptiness or hypocrisy. In The Fall, the main character Jean-Baptiste Clamence lives this paradox in a raw and profound way. Through Clamence, Camus unveils the inner conflicts we all carry, and these are the conflicts that many of us hope to resolve or dissolve in a spiritual search. In reading this novel, I began to see the contours of a deeper truth: the part of ourselves we avoid acknowledging is, paradoxically, the part most in need of liberation. And this realization opens a gateway into non-dual awareness, where the illusion of a separate “self” begins to crumble.
Jean-Baptiste Clamence: The Judge and the Judged
The protagonist of The Fall, Jean-Baptiste Clamence, is a respected Parisian lawyer, someone who thrives on doing good and looking good. Yet, underneath that polished exterior lies a man haunted by his own hypocrisy. He is a man who has dedicated his life to justice and virtue, yet a single incident changes his entire perspective. While walking along a bridge, he hears a woman fall into the river but does nothing to help her. This moment ignites an unraveling of his carefully crafted self-image, setting off a journey that will force him to confront the truth of who he really is.
In a way, Clamence embodies something we all face. Maybe you’ve had a similar moment, a time when you saw yourself acting in a way that didn’t align with who you wanted to be. It’s the universal human experience: the judge within us holds us to a standard we’re destined to fall short of, over and over again. Camus uses Clamence to show us how we play both judge and judged in our own lives, putting ourselves on trial, striving for approval, and avoiding the aspects of ourselves that don’t fit neatly into our image of who we think we are. And in the philosophy of non-duality, this “judge” is nothing more than the ego at work—a structure that we use to maintain a sense of separate self, but which ultimately keeps us stuck in cycles of self-condemnation and guilt.
Hypocrisy and the Illusion of Identity
The Fall is an invitation to look at the hypocrisies within us all. Clamence admits to his duplicity, not only to others but to himself. He begins to see that his “virtue” was often just a mask he wore to gain approval and admiration. When I first read this in college, I was struck by how painfully relatable this was. In our society, so many of us are conditioned to wear masks to fit in, to succeed, to appear good or worthy. We might pride ourselves on being “good” people, but if we dig a bit deeper, we start to notice how much of what we do is designed to feed the ego.
In non-dual teachings, we’re shown a way to see beyond these masks, to recognize that the stories we tell about ourselves—whether good or bad—are simply narratives the mind has constructed. They aren’t who we are. Like Clamence, we come to see that our sense of self is often built on fragile foundations, on shifting sands of perception, judgment, and approval. Non-duality offers a radical alternative by encouraging us to look beyond these stories. When we stop identifying with the “good” or “bad” person we think we are, we touch a place within that is timeless, unconditioned, and free.
The Bridge: Falling into the Void
The turning point for Clamence—and for the reader—is the moment on the bridge. His inaction when he hears the woman fall is the moment that forces him to confront his own limitations. For Clamence, the bridge represents a threshold, a place where he encounters a part of himself he had never fully acknowledged. This “fall” into awareness is an unsettling experience. It’s the same “fall” many of us experience when we start to dismantle our own illusions and face the truth of our being.
In a non-dual context, the bridge can be seen as a metaphor for the void, that space within us we often fear. We’re so accustomed to filling the void with our thoughts, beliefs, and identities that facing it head-on can be terrifying. Non-duality teaches us that this void isn’t empty or meaningless; it’s actually a doorway to freedom. What we perceive as emptiness or lack is the very place where our true nature resides—whole, complete, and at peace. When I read The Fall, I felt that Clamence’s journey across the bridge was an invitation to all of us to face our own void, to let go of the need to constantly prop up our egos, and to fall into the liberating depth of our true selves.
The Idea of “The Other” and the Separation Trap
One of the most powerful themes in The Fall is the notion of “the other”—the idea that we constantly define ourselves through comparison. Clamence, in his confessions, reveals how his self-worth was built on feeling superior to others. He only felt validated when others admired him or were beneath him in some way. It’s a trap many of us fall into without even realizing it. In a society where we’re constantly encouraged to “be someone,” to achieve and stand out, it’s easy to get lost in comparison, and that comparison only strengthens the illusion of separateness.
Non-duality challenges this entire framework by asking, “Who is the other?” It reminds us that the division we create between ourselves and others is an illusion, a mental construct. In truth, there is no “other” to compare ourselves against; there is only the unified field of consciousness. The feeling of competition, of judgment, dissolves when we see beyond the illusion of separateness. And when we do, we experience a kind of liberation that is beyond any achievement, beyond any accolade. In reading The Fall, I began to understand that Camus was pointing to the suffering that arises from this sense of separation and how, when we see through it, we come to a place of unity and peace.
Embracing the Absurd and Finding Freedom in Presence
Camus’s philosophy of the absurd—the idea that life has no inherent meaning—is both liberating and frightening. In The Fall, Clamence embodies this struggle, living with the tension of a meaningless existence and yet, unable to simply “be” in the face of it. He attempts to fill this void with stories, with identity, with judgment, but finds only deeper emptiness.
In non-duality, we’re taught to meet the absurdity of life with presence, not resistance. Rather than running from the void or trying to fill it with meaning, we’re invited to embrace it, to find freedom in the very act of surrendering our need for answers. Camus’s vision of life as absurd resonates deeply with non-dual teachings, which show us that life’s apparent meaninglessness is not something to fear, but something to explore with open curiosity. When we let go of the search for meaning, we find an awareness that holds everything—meaning and meaninglessness, hope and despair, life and death. This awareness is the essence of who we are, and it’s where true liberation lies.
Conclusion: Camus’s Gift
My experience with The Fall was, at its core, an experience of unmasking. Camus’s work opened my eyes to the illusions I held, the stories I used to create a sense of self. But it also pointed me toward a deeper truth, one that would later blossom into my understanding of non-duality. By holding up a mirror to our own contradictions and hypocrisies, Camus invites us to look within, to see through the false self, and to recognize the presence that lies beyond it.
To anyone who’s feeling intrigued by this perspective, I encourage you to explore The Fall and the way it reveals the futility of clinging to identity, judgment, and separation. Camus may not have been a teacher, but his work speaks directly to the heart of the spiritual search. Through The Fall, we are reminded that the only real freedom comes from letting go, from seeing through the illusions that hold us back, and from embracing the simplicity and depth of our true nature.
“The Stranger” did the same for me in high school. I get it. Your article reminds me of “The Egg.” https://youtu.be/h6fcK_fRYaI.
All this to say that, when I notice the separateness I create, I remind myself of this concept. Your article is on point! Thanks for sharing.