I decided to start this thread on Paul Bowles' novel before detail fades in memory. Feel free to join in.

I'm always surprised by the ending, even though I've read this at least 3 times. I think it is superbly well-written, the style is well-paced,and the descriptions of the desert and the natives of North Africa is exquisite.

I think its major theme, the gradual descent of a young woman into madness is very well depicted. I read 3 critiques which state that the character of Kit is actually based on Bowles' wife, Jane, who did live in Tangier and who did go mad, at the end of her life. Port, the husband, is Paul himself, and their relationship is evocative of certain events in their actual married life. (I'm now reading Millicent Dillon's "A Little Original Sin" which throws more light upon this enigmatic, complicated marriage. I find fascinating the exodus of American writers and artists overseas, during the post WW II years. The same event occurred after WW I, when so many expatriates fled to Paris (Hemingway, Fitzgerald, et al.) During the 1940's, the mecca seemed to be North Africa, Tangier and Fez, specifically.

Someone asked was this novel existential. At first, I thought no. Upon re-reading it, I've changed my opinion. It's theme is the clash of atavism and barbarism vs. "Civilization". Thus the theme reminded me of Golding's "Lord of the Flies." From what I've read, Bowles used this theme in many of his works. I've also read Camus and Sartre, both existentialist authors, and find echoes of those in this novel.

The 3 protagonists are deracinated, drifters, cut off, and affected with "anomie". They evoke a disenchantment with Western society and cultural values, a seeking of more primitive lifestyles. Some are fleeing the war scene, deliberately choosing the exoticism and mystery of the Middle East, hoping to evoke in themselves some passion, hoping to feel alive. Some weaker in character were sucked in and ultimately destroyed, as Bowles reveals in a subtle, gradual manner.

Jane Bowles (a talented writer in her own right) has been compared to Zelda Fitzgerald, another writer whose work was eclipsed by the career of her husband, F.Scott. And like Zelda, Jane went mad at the end....

I was impressed by the symbolism in the novel, re: the sheltering sky, which hides darkness and nothingness behind it. Over and over again, the sky is referenced, protecting the innocent from death and nothingness.

What did you think of part 3, when Kit "escapes" and takes on a totally different persona? Were you shocked?

Would like to hear your comments, other than the mere fact that you "hated this book."

I read this book for the first time (I finished it a couple of weeks ago), and found it strange, and strangely compelling. I know nothing about Bowles, so it is interesting to know that there is a biographical element to it. Yet how odd that the author's representative character is killed off part way through the novel!

To me, until Port dies, the novel seemed primarily about him, and his often-misguided desire to connect with the universe, with love, with meaning. I loved the passage about the sheltering sky; the author really evoked a feeling of barely-concealed chaos and nothingness beyond the surface of things.

I did feel that the book was existential, with the three protagonists casting about in search of meaning and experience--painful or otherwise--who are oddly removed from their own feelings. In the exotic and dangerous setting of North Africa, they seem strangely apathetic and out of touch with the things around them. I loved the descriptions of the cities, the trains, the heat and the light--and the sky. The novel seemed suffused with a sense of menace and danger.

Once Port died, and Kit "escaped"--the novel took on a completely different feel--Kit seemed to shift from being a languid, selfish, and slightly bored young woman, to one who completely loses herself and her identity. From start to finish, her entire persona seemed apathetic, without real volition, but after Port's death it seems that she drifts to the other side of that "sheltering sky," or so it seemed to me, a nightmarish and unreal series of dreadful situations.

I really enjoyed this novel. It is strange, disturbing, and haunting. I will have to read it again; I know I missed so much!

Spoilers.

Kkay, thanks for your comments! I think the book is well worth reading again, as I have done. For more background on Paul Bowles and his expatriate life, you might want to look for "The Dream at the End of the World" by Michelle Green.

The change in the personality of Kit toward the ending really shocked me, even upon re-reading. But however bad the events, they seemed to have made her feel more alive. When she was captured by the men in the desert, I thought of the "Stockholm Syndrome", where the victim tries to identify with her captors.

Yes, the entire portion of the book about Kit on the lam seemed so shocking to me--up to that point she seemed fastidious and self-absorbed, and then when she "escapes" she seems willing to submit to any sort of treatment and situation. If was fascinating. And yes--she did seem more alive, if only in her senses. She was utterly not a thinking woman; in a strange way she made me think of a queen bee, held in that box, only there to serve to give pleasure. Really a remarkable story.

Hmm, I'm rambling. I'm back from a long trip (partly to visit Rouan) and my brain is still a bit jet lagged.

The other part I really liked was how Port described his death..."A black star appears, a point of darkness in the night sky's clarity. Point of darkness and gateway to repose. Reach out and pierce the fine fabric of the sheltering sky, take repose."
I liked that especially because of how he first described the sheltering sky as protecting them from the chaos behind, when in the end it was where he found his peace.

Hazel, I agree about letting the book "simmer"--it has a strong flavor, and its imagery was overwhelming to me at times.

Kit did seem much more like an elemental creature after Port died; she appeared to be freed of her fearfulness and embraced the unknown (and how!). It was a pity that she couldn't overcome her fear and embrace Port while she could have.

We haven't said much about Tunner. I thought it was interesting that he was so repelled by the desert that he took off, and remained outside the entire drama of Port's death and Kit's descent. He seemed oblivious to so much that was around him.

It seems strange that in Port's death, Kit found life. In her descent into madness, she seemed to come alive and to find a new "self," hitherto unexplored, unexamined.

I agree that Port and Kit were both revolving in their own worlds for their own reasons - it's such a shame that Port missed her change to a woman based on feelings/senses rather than rational thought. I think he would have liked that side of her more than the side she presented up until he died.

The descriptions of the desert, the color and vast size of the sky, the peoples who live there - all wonderfully done. I could feel the dust, the dryness, the sandy grains.... You could tell that Bowles had lived there and experienced some of this - they were wonderful descriptions of a hostile place in some ways.

Interesting that his wife has been compared to Zelda Fitzgerald, as I also found the book to be similar to "The Great Gatsby" - disaffected aimless rich/well off young adults adrift in a world they know little about and just floating from one place/situation to another without planning anything much.

I would not have read this in a million years if we hadn't mentioned it on RP, so thanks for doing it. I enjoyed it, although I am not sure I would read another one of his.

Do you think that Kit, in the third part of the book when she changes so much -- is she reveling in the freedom she feels or is she retreating from having lost her bearings/lover etc? I mean, is her changing from being a very rational person to a person who uses her senses a positive change or a negative one? She seems as though she is sleepwalking in some situations - the sexual violence from the camel traders etc...

I saw the novel as a fascinating study of descent into madness, among other themes.

I just realized that both Port and Kit are supreme examples of "Anhedonia." (the inability to take pleasure in anything). I find them more so than Daisy and Gatsby, although the lifestyle is similar....

You have a good point about Kit's depending on omens all the time prior to her descent into madness - I had forgotten that bit and now see your point - she wasn't that rational to begin with....

And I agree with your assessmt of both the characters being affected with anhedonia - can't blame them really as they had no goals, no real friends, not a real relationship with each other - they lived an incredibly superficial life if you think about it.

I was also fascinated by the bit characters, the dreadful mother and son who came in and out of the story; they were such casually awful people, marauding their way through a foreign land.

The book, as it has simmered in my (often faulty) memory, becomes richer and the flavors somehow sharper.

What I am about to write will be raw impressions because I haven't had time to let TSS "simmer." I like to write down my initial, unformed notions sometimes so that I can see how my impressions change, as they often do, with a story that can be approached from several vectors.

First I read the Preface by Bowles himself. He let the cat out of the bag that in the course of the book he would "kill off his male protagonist." Well, perhaps it's such a notorious feature that he expected everyone to already know about it; but I didn't, so it affected my anticipation -- I spent most of the novel dreading it and then when it happened I felt deflated. What I didn't expect was Kit's reaction, but more about that later.

The other thing that particularly struck me was Bowles's disclaimer that Kit was not based on Jane Bowles:

It did no good for me to deny her presence, or to insist that the book was fiction and not autobiography. So, although Jane had never set foot on the African continent and was calmly sitting by a swimming pool in Connecticut, the critics had it their own way, and it was generally decided that she had gone with me to the Sahara.

Drat! I have a distraction. To be continued...

For most of Book 1, I thought I was getting a sandblown version of one of W. Somerset Maugham's exotic novels with a little each of Ernest Hemingway and Henry Miller thrown in. There was the same sort of ambience: disaffected travelers, atrocious tourists (not the same as 'travelers', just as Port thought), supercilious colonials, indifferent natives, filthy inns, unspeakable food and odors, grit, oppressive heat, and eroticism. Ah! The elements of realism I crave that will certainly keep me reading.

I took an instant dislike of Kit. (I like to dislike certain characters -- it gives me something to launch from.) Here are Kit's lines that instigated it for me:

"The people of each country get more like the people of every other country. They have no character, no beauty, no ideals, no culture -- nothing, nothing."

Zounds! I just realized that half of my second post above "pulled a Kit." All of it was there when I previewed it, but when I clicked the submit button there was a blip of some sort and I didn't get to see, until now, the submission. I'll see if I can resurrect or rewrite it, or determine whether it's still worth posting. I promise that I did not intend to write installments!

I am now reading all of your comments, and I'm nodding my head often in agreement and puzzling over other points you all have brought up. I got to the word anhedonia and nearly shouted: That's it! That's the $100 word! -- much more precise in the diagnosis of Port and Kit's behavioral characteristics than the only one I could think of: ennui.

The attitude of the main characters toward other cultures was really offensive to me...

Getting back to my first impressions: I was exasperated with the coyness of Bowles as to what Port and Kit's marital difficulties were. Reading between the lines, I assumed it was some sort of sexual dysfunction; but whose? Now I realize that "back in the day" when TSS was written and published, things weren't always spelled out for the reader -- nor did they necessarily have to be (I'm thinking of Hemingway's Jake Barnes as an example) -- but I frustratingly sense a certain artfulness in Bowles's withholding. He could have been more explicit because he certainly was later in Kit's situation with Belqassim and the other Arab trader. It's almost as if there's a certain prudishness in the depiction of a possible 'male problem' but a voyeuristic pleasure in describing a possible female one -- that of a nymphomaniac? Did Port find Kit too demanding in that arena and was that the primary dysfunction of the marriage?

I have to say that my initial reaction to the Kit-and-the-Arab-traders chapters was disbelief -- though not shock, really, but more of disgust because up to this point I felt Bowles was trying to be straightforward with the reader, although elliptical at times. I think he succumbed to arty-fartiness, to put it crudely, particularly with the chic non-ending ending. Sorry, but I warned that I might be a bit raw. It makes me wonder just how much of this story was written as an exercise in style.

Woodnymph, were you expecting everyone "to hate this book"? I certainly don't. In fact, I like it very much for its evocation of place (funny, the time part seems rather unimportant, to me). Of course, this is just one approach to reading this novel -- the simplest probably (I tend to read things first at face value). I figure rereads and "simmerings" will bring out the other ways -- the allegorical, the existential, the nihilistic...

I don't know enough about Bowles and his life, or his wife Jane, to be able to speculate on whether he is telling us something about that relationship. But it's rather fun to contemplate. A strange relationship it must have been.

I very much enjoyed this book--didn't hate it at all. I will probably re-read it at a later date. It's a fast read, and I very much enjoyed its evocation of place.

I thought the story began normally enough but it evolved in unexpected ways and ended very strangely. I thought it was particularly ironic that Kit who did not want to hear of Port's dreams had her own dream. Was she afraid of dreams foretelling the future as she was afraid of omens? In the dream she was teetering on a rocky ledge of a cliff over the sea. When the streetcar stopped at the end of the line it was above the harbor...are we to assume that the dream was fulfilled?

friedag-you make me smile because you get to the nitty gritty! I was wondering the same thing about the "marital discord" but did not know how I could pose it delicately in a discussion.

I found TSS to be too provocative to easily assimilate my thoughts. I agree with all who will have to let it simmer. I think it will be interesting six months from now what I will remember most. I will be re-reading it.

I'm finding everyone's comments and reactions very interesting.

I wonder if Jane had the habit of taking out her compact and lipstick and making up her face and lips as Kit did -- it seems to be almost a "tic" that rings very authentic to me.

Lydia, your tying together of Kit's going-over-the-edge dream with the ending seems to me to be the right reading -- it's what I came up with as well. I'm lousy at discerning symbolism. Oh, I got the "sheltering sky" part easily enough, though I think the sand of the Sahara would have made just as good a "shelter," but I'm sure I overlooked many other symbols, even obvious ones. Yet that dream of Kit's -- out of the blue for her -- seemed freighted. I thought: Ah-oh, what's this bit of surrealism? I was as flabbergasted as I usually am when confronted with magical realism.

Heh! Well, Lydia, somebody has to stick her neck out. I mean: if we're going to read this sort of book in the first place, we ought to be able to discuss the ticklish parts, somehow. :-)

From Dr. Pezzi, clinic at Malaga, Spain: "Senora Jane Bowles was fifty years old when she entered this clinic on April 14, 1967....The diagnosis was manic-depressive psychosis. The drugs that were used in her treatment were Tofranil, Largacticil, Epanutin, and Pueron....Besides psycholgical treatment and medication, she received electric shock, after having first been anesthetized with Narcovenol. she seems to have taken alcohol and sedatives to excess...."

Again from Dillon's "A Little Original Sin": ...."The Sheltering Sky did present her with a prophecy about her own life to come, about her own "going out into the world." ....writing of a couple who had a great resemblance to himself and Jane, he would inadvertently confirm her greatest fears."

Dillon continues: "For the character of Kit, Paul drew upon many details of Jane's personality. Kit is described as terrified of trains, of tunnels, and of trestles. She is fearful of omens of any sort. In her there is a continuous struggle, "a war between reason and atavism." In Kit's feelings for Port, Paul echoed certain of Jane's feelings for him...."

From M. Green's "The Dream at the End of the World":
"Jane Bowles never regained her sanity. Diagnosed as a manic-depressive psychotic, she spent almost five years in psychiatric hospitals in Spain. ....On May 4, 1973 -- blind, mute, devastated by a series of strokes -- she died at a Malaga sanitorium.....was buried in an unmarked grave ...."

Green continues: "Port, Paul decided, would die alone, and he wanted to describe precisely his hallucinatory last moments....he conducted an experiment with majoun -- the cannibis confection that was said to induce fantastic visions. In the medina, he bought a large chunk for ten pesetas.....The drug took hold after Paul had hiked from his cottage to the wooded heights of the Mountain, where he lay in the sun on a great slab of rock...."

Green goes on to cite Paul's own description of his visions and how he incorporated this experience into the dying dreams of Port.

...."The Sheltering Sky did present her with a prophecy about her own life to come, about her own "going out into the world." ....writing of a couple who had a great resemblance to himself and Jane, he would inadvertently confirm her greatest fears."

Yikes, it sounds as if Jane was a victim of medical/psychological malpractice -- she was a stroke sufferer, for god's sake, yet they pumped her full of drugs and anesthetics and gave her shock treatment! They said she was schizophrenic and manic-depressive...

The Sheltering Sky was written about ten years before Jane's first stroke and her obvious decline to death. She would have been in her early thirties at the time of TSS, so would it have been so apparent then that she would eventually go mad? Some of her friends didn't think so: they thought she was "mystical" at times but witty and "self-mocking" -- she called herself "Crippie, the Kike Dyke" referring to her lameness (from a tubercular knee), her Jewishness, and her lesbianism. So if she hadn't had the strokes perhaps she wouldn't have been mad, or at least her 'madness' would have been of a lesser degree. She was no stranger, in many ways, than some of her and Paul's drug-experimenting cohorts and acquaintances (I'm thinking of William Burroughs, particularly, whose wife died under peculiar circumstances). Paul and Jane belonged to that milieu of writers who, despite their compelling writing, I've never quite figured out whether they were or weren't mostly hot air and histrionics -- including Kerouac and Ginsberg...and, yeah, Capote.

I enjoy Paul Bowles's type of experimental writing, though, more than that of most of his contemporaries. Well, I've enjoyed TSS and a couple of his short stories. I have read only one of Jane's stories so far. I will look for her Two Serious Ladies. Woodnymph, have you read it?

Tunner was, to me, the most likeable character. Although he was fairly despicable, he seemed to be the only person to feel anything, or sometimes act in a caring way.

I saw the film years ago - might have to take a second look.

We look at The Sheltering Sky and notice the similarities and the eventual outcome for Jane and say: Aha! Kit is really Jane. But Bowles himself denied it and how was he to know, anyway, that he was to be such a ghoulishly accurate prognosticator in 1947/48? Perhaps he knew Jane better than anyone else, but then that would have made him either a world-calibre psychologist or the "luckiest" of manipulators, intentional or inadvertent. No, it's probably more likely that -- as you mentioned, woodnymph -- Jane couldn't handle the hashish and other drug-taking (including alcohol) after she joined Bowles in Tangier. It was her misfortune to get entangled in that lot; but if she hadn't, would she have gone "nuts" anyway? No one knows, really, although her friend -- Dionne? -- thought going to Africa was the worst thing for Jane.

The point I am trying to reconcile is the one that Bowles himself spent most of his life trying to explain: The Sheltering Sky is not the story of Paul and Jane, no matter how striking are the similarities between them and Port and Kit. The story is fiction. Some critics and readers (and some biographers), though, will never accept that -- the coincidences are just too weird.

Siobhan, I feel as if Tunner is a "throwaway" character. He's such extraneous baggage that Port and Kit spend most of the book trying to get rid of him. They manage to do just that, but he dutifully reappears to give Port a burial and wait for word of Kit. He seems, to me, a quintessentially American character -- not-so-bright but basically a decent sort of fellow to impose upon when needed but otherwise of not much importance. What was he doing tagging along with Port and Kit, anyway? I know he decided to accompany them when they were back in New York, but the purpose is vague -- or did I miss something?

The Australian mother and son are also throwaways, but understandably so, since that's the nature of traveling: for a while certain people weave in an out of one's life, then poof one day they are gone for good. However, they manage to leave indelible impressions -- what a pair!

As for why Tunner wanted to tag along on their trip, I assumed thast he had a "crush" on Kit and wanted to make his case....

What niggles me is the apparent disagreement of Jane's friends and acquaintances (and Bowles himself) with the critics and their biographers. I don't know who to believe so I have to reason things out -- thus, my clumsy questioning of the various viewpoints. All sides have their own agendas: the friends and Bowles were probably protective of Jane and themselves; the critics and biographers are outsiders trying to work backwards (though some seem to be starting with The Sheltering Sky to try to explain what happened to Jane from what happened to Kit) -- some have already jumped to conclusions that might or might not be valid; some outsiders, with the same known "facts," will come to conclusions that seem diametrically opposite. I do want to read the complete text of Dillon's biography because the excerpt of it that I read in The Portable P & J, plus the other articles I've read, are, I suspect, just tantalizing glimpses. It's my nature, too, to never trust only one biographer, critic, friend or lover. ;-)

Now that I've belabored my point re Jane! I am about ready to consider some of the other ways to look at TSS. Woodnymph, kkay, others: which do you think would be the most enlightening next step to ponder: the symbolism, the style -- or something else? I've already started my second reading of TSS.

To me, the style and approach reminds me of Camus' The Stranger. The flat and somewhat unadorned voice (granted, I read The Stranger in translation), and the way the book is split into a before and after. The Stranger was translated into English in 1946, three years before Bowles wrote his book. Of course, it may just be the similarities in setting that is evocative for me. But the alienation, the strange disconnect from one's feelings and surroundings, really link these books in my mind. I'm sure the rest of you can shed more light on this subject!

I've also read that he was quite taken with Cocteau. I don't know enough about Cocteau's concepts to compare.

Yet it seems to me that Bowles took the pieces of his influences and shaped them into something uniquely his own -- the reason for the oddity of The Sheltering Sky? Maybe.

Yes, TSS has very much the same feel as L'Étranger, I think. Well, at least it does to the way I remember the Camus book -- I read it in French at university many decades ago. I do recall the dissociation and the before-and-after-the-murder switch in narration. Hmm, kkay, that's a definite place to start in a quest of the influences on Bowles's style. I need to reread L'Étranger. Who and what else, do you all think?

However, some years ago I took a course on mental illnesses. We learned that some small portion of the population (~3%?) has a latent tendency toward bipolar disorder. For many of these people, this tendency can lie dormant throughout the person's entire life, or might manifest only in mild mood swings that don't prevent normal life. However, smoking marijuana or hashish can for these people trigger a psychotic break and initiate the full disease. If Jane Bowles was dealing with her issues adequately before starting to use drugs, and afterwards was considered mad, this is entirely consistent with what I learned in that psychology class.

Rosefolly

I find the way the expatriates keep echoing each other through the generations fascinating. First, there was a wave of Americans in Paris in the 1920's, with Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, Sylvia Beach, and others. (It was said that one could live cheaply if one knew the bistros and neighborhoods at that time in Paris).

Then, in the 1940's, with Bowles and some of the "Beats" came yet another wave of expatriates, this time to North Africa more so than to Paris. What were they all looking for? Were they attempting to escape the disillusionment and loss of idealism brought about by both of the Great Wars?

I'm probably way past my prime to read Nietzche and Kierkegaard. I have read some Dostoyevsky and Kafka. And Hamsun, who I understand you've read extensively, Woodnymph. Do you think Hamsun's themes are similar?

I, too, have long been fascinated with the American expatriate scene after the World Wars. Which reminds me -- before I forget it -- Paul Bowles might have been influenced by Henry Miller. I detected a bit of Miller in TSS. Miller knocked the socks off certain American writers, gay and heterosexual.

Woodnymph, I figure the arty-literary expatriates were disillusioned, with good reason, but I think what they found most attractive about Paris and Tangier was the self-indulgence they could exhibit in those places that they couldn't in most parts of stolid, staid America. It was certainly true that homosexual activity was more open and accepted in those places, but so too were heterosexual activities and other forms of "free expression."
~~~~~~~~~
Rosefolly, that's intriguing! Another possible piece in the puzzle.

I agree with you about the self-indulgence and the "freedom" to go against the grain in a foreign country, as opposed to strait-laced America of those days. (Think Sinclair Lewis' "Main Street."

The musical connection is fascinating to me. I don't recall ever hearing any of Bowles' compositions, although I listen to our classical radio station constantly. Now Copeland is heard often. So much of music and art in those days was breaking the mold, so to speak. Think of the shock and horror from audience reaction to Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring." As well, Nijinsky's ballet, "Afternoon of a Faun" was considered very shocking for the times. There is a connection here with Jean Cocteau, as well. I believe he was involved in set design for some of the cutting edge ballets of the day.

I recommend Knut Hamsun as a truly unique, inimitable author. Try reading his "Pan." His other translated works I've liked were "Victoria" and "Hunger."

Specifically, what parts of TSS make it existential?

I know there are different schools of thought about existentialism, but to me it seems to be about our attempts to cope with, or to impose purpose and order in spite of, the meaninglessness of life. Most of the characters in this book seem rudderless, purposeless, and desperate to find some meaning or to even feel something. They move about almost aimlessly seeking entertainment or a change of scene, and seem so incapable of connecting with each other or anyone else. Their lives are a kind of portrait of chaos and meaninglessness, I think.

It seems darker and darker to me, this novel, as it "simmers" in my brain.

Love the music connection. I've never read "Les Enfants Terribles" but it sounds as if I must.

I don't have the book at hand so this is from memory and may not be in the proper chronology of the story, but the first inkling I remember is Port's encounter with the Arab who took him to the prostitute. The girl told the story (through the Arab interpreter) of the three girls who wanted to drink tea in the Sahara. They wanted to drink it on the highest dune, but every dune they climbed they could see another higher one farther away. That tale indicated to me a setting up of a theme of "futility," which I think is one that existentialists often dwell on, though I can't swear to it -- only that it seems that way to me from what I've read of novels that are described as "existential."

I'll throw out a few other scenes:

I read somewhere that Bowles got the title The Sheltering Sky from a song lyric or a title of a piece of music; but I can't remember what it was, who wrote the song/music, or where I read this. Does anyone know?

It (the sheltering sky) protected the characters "from the chaos behind."

Woodnymph, I don't go out of my way to listen to Copland, but I do have some experience playing some of his compositions ("Appalachian Spring" particularly). I'm not sure if I've ever heard a Bowles composition or whether he tried to extend his teacher's avant-garde style, but I would guess that Bowles constructed his novel in three movements on purpose -- each getting progressively more "out of realm," so to speak.

I really think our "group" would find a read and discussion of Camus' "The Stranger" interesting and enlightening, in view of the present discussion.

After that we might have to read something light and amusing to clear our palates!

I wish we could track down the musical connection--my inept google search turned up nothing (from that era, anyway).

The ex-patriate angle is an interesting one; I think the fact that this story takes place in a relatively strange and exotic setting serves to heighten the schism between the characters and their environment. It's a perfect setting for the characters to lose themselves. If they found themselves in Paris, they'd all be smoking cigarettes at outdoor cafes. Their ennui wouldn't really get any traction there.

friedag, your examples are ones that I also noted as important but I was not sure of the significance of some. Port's death did not make sense to me at first (I thought he was the main character), but if his life was meaningless then his death also must be meaningless. By killing off his main male character, the author seems to be saying that Port and the rest of his characters do not really matter in the grand scheme. Is this what he intended to convey?

I think you are right that the "accumulative effect" is existential.

>It (the sheltering sky) protected the characters "from the chaos behind." - kkay
Is this wishful thinking on the part of the characters? It certainly doesn't seem to be true, in my opinion. - friedag

I took the title to be ironic. Are existentialists usually atheists also?

I agree that TSS is a very dark story. It felt cynical and pessimistic to me. Is "The Stranger" similarly dark? If so, I am not sure I want to read and assimilate another one like TSS so soon, but I am sure that this group would make an interesting discussion of it!

If they found themselves in Paris, they'd all be smoking cigarettes at outdoor cafes. Their ennui wouldn't really get any traction there.

Lydia: "Ironic," hmm, you may be onto something there. I thought for a while that the title was a misfit, but the NYT review I mentioned above also includes this bit from Bowles:

"If I stress the various facets of unhappiness, it is because I believe unhappiness should be studied very carefully," he told an interviewer. "This certainly is no time for anyone to pretend to be happy, or to put his unhappiness away in the dark. You must watch your universe as it cracks above your head."

I don't know if most existentialists are, but some of the most well-known ones seem to have been atheists, or maybe agnostics.

I intend to read The Stranger but I don't know when I will be able to find a copy. I'll catch up with you, though, when you decide to discuss it because I think it would be fascinating.

As for existentialism itself, I know that one need not be either atheist or agnostic. There is, in fact, a "Christian Existentialism."

I would welcome re-reading "The Stranger" and any ensuing discussion of it, in the near future. It is very short, yet thought-provoking. Raise your hands if interested....

Camus, in speaking of Algiers: "One can find a certain moderation as well as a constant excess in the strained and violent faces of these people, in this summer sky, emptied of tenderness, beneath which all truths can be told and on which no deceitful divinity has traced the signs of hope or redemption. Between this sky and the faces turned toward it there is nothing on which to hang a mythology, a literature, an ethic, or a religion -- only stones, flesh, stars, and those truths the hand can touch."

(Lyrical and critical essays).

I wonder if Bowles had read this particular thought of Camus.

For those who are interested in reading about the American expatriots in the 20's in Paris, I highly recommend Hemingway's "A Moveable Feast", which depicts his life in Paris with his first wife, Hadley, and describes his quarrelsome rivalry/friendship with F.S. Fitzgerald and others.