Comp Lit: On the Road & The Stranger

On the Road, Original Scroll, by Jack Kerouac, circa 1947

I first met Neal not long after my father died…I had just gotten over a serious illness that I won’t bother to talk about except that it really had something to do with my father’s death and the awful feeling that everything was dead.

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The Stranger by Albert Camus, 1942 (tr. Ward)

Maman died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don't know. I got a telegram from the home: Mother deceased. Funeral tomorrow. Faithfully yours. That doesn't mean anything. Maybe it was yesterday.