The Fall: Humanity's Last Stand

By Adrian Chong

The darkness of apocalypse fell onto the world and only a fragment of humanity remains to fight against the demons. This is humanity's last stand against the demons. Kain Venator was born and raised in this ravaged world. He does not know the extent of his importance. Kain will learn that in order to fight monsters, you must become more than man.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jul 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499015294

Adrian Chong

I was the first of my family to be born in Australia. I had a quiet primary school life during which I read a lot. During middle school, I allowed my creativity to blossom in the form of writing. I created a main character and a story around him. Then I created a world around him, more characters and more stories.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

"It was the year 9045 AD. Humanity was prospering. Tall and controlled cities were planted all across Naerdi. Strong walls enclosed everything from the danger of the demons. Technology and science had advanced exponentially. Human life expectancy extended to just over two hundred years. Everything changed when the Sun died. Before that, the Hunters had decimated the demons into controllable numbers, but only of those residing on the planet.

The Hunters had built themselves a magnificently fierce reputation. Darkness reached for men and some rose to defend humanity. After a few thousand years, the demons aggressiveness toned down and humanity grew complacent in their prosperity.

Vampires and werewolves were a byproduct of demon’s infecting mortals and they had learnt to hide… but when the Sun died, the vampires spread like a plague, taking the opportunity like starving to spilt food. Unfortunately, the Hunters had grown lax as well. Humanity’s defences were minimalistic and easily broken.

If it were several thousand years prior, humanity would have met its end within days, but current technologies in place and advancements on our planet saved us. Scientists detected the Sun’s end nearly instantly and many evacuated into bunkers, but not many held out.

Nanomechs allowed the continuation of the water cycle and the trees gave us light. Nanomechs absorb carbon dioxide and other airborne taints to produce oxygen, alleviating the stress off plant life as well as producing a very subtle layer of heat on the world. Coupled with the heat produced from the vortex engine seal, this keeps the world warm enough for life, although the physical effects of the shockwave wiped out most animals.

Luckily, some livestock animals survived and were migrated south into the farming regions. Trees had evolved over the past thousands of years and one of the features gained was light. Southern trees gained spiralling veins of luminous natural light and this phenomenon spread across the entire continent.

The vampires killed or infected, mostly killed, at least two thirds of the world’s population in days and the human population was decimated brutally over the next decade. The government military didn’t have the troops to fight back or the morale, so the remaining Hunters had to lead the charge along with the resistance movement that formed.

Human technology started to reverse: we lost electricity immediately, then vehicles, lighting, machineries and so on, mostly due to the shockwave that collided with the surface of the Earth that ruined our machinery. That shockwave also caused severe damage to city structures and fortifications. This age was officially named: The Fall, the age that all humans fought the demons for control of the Earth whilst trying to survive the darkness.

Mortal weaponry swiftly returned to medieval standards: without energy to power energized weapons and firearms were never efficient. Fortunately, old-fashioned simple bladed weapons seemed to do the job fine against claw wielding demon dogs and blood drinkers with talons.

Humans were rapidly losing dominance and ground, unfortunately, that’s when the vampires found help from the werewolves. The werewolves were normally their mortal enemies as both species had been involved in a blood feud lasting for over ten thousand years already, but the vampires insisted… together they could rule the world, defeat the humans together and on top of all that, the Alpha WereKing was bribed by the prospect of half the land, riches and influence of several vampire cohorts to his command.

The resistance learnt about this newly found alliance and ordered swift action. They gathered all of humanity’s capable and marched across the land. They didn’t meet much resistance in the minor forts and demon outposts, but once they reached Fyrth, that was the stopping point.

The werewolves had enough time to regroup with the vampires and together they withstood the assault of the humans. VampireKing Dierce had already grown impatient of the humans and when the humans attacked his capital, he countered harshly. He led the demons into an offensive counter that drove the mortals into retreat. Survivors fled into forests of the south.

The human race formed three main fortress cities: Gyrda, Evandia and Gaiod. They managed to secure northern outpost Phoenix to keep Bikik the Lord of Carnage Desert from communicating with Herio, Ulrich and Dierce. This stopped the demons from uniting and allowed humanity to thrive again.

The Hunters secluded themselves from their own race, hiding in between the north and the south, staying between the demons and humans like shields. They would halt any advancing demonic forces with utmost valor, but they never pushed forward. If the Hunters abandoned their defensive positions, they would be leaving the rest of humanity to the mercy of the demons.

Now they lay waiting, waiting the return of a legend, a mythical being. They’re waiting for their true leader to emerge. They have a commanding council, but the Venator were always the best and reliable. They wait for the Venator that can lead them through the darkness and to victory. They are still waiting in the shadows, in the wilderness, until a Venator surfaces.

And I intend to give them one. They need someone to lead them, the Hunters are a destructive force of incalculable proportions, but their current lord is intent on hiding. They need motivation, hope… a new fire.

Dierce will be slain, whether by a Hunter’s blade, a paladin’s blade, by a Venator’s blade, or by my own, he will pay. He must and will pay."

—Bynor.

CHAPTER ONE

Grey Waters

(August 9244 AD)

The Nautilus is home for me. I’ve gotten used to the rocking back and forth as Bynor pulls on the ropes. The swaying from side to side of the boom bar, which allows the white striped, black mainsail to obtain more wind and thus give the boat more speed.

I change the black jib sail, ducking to avoid the swinging boom bar as I lock the jib sheets into the crocodile jaws, the ends already tied with eight knots. The light rain slowly halts to a stop and Bynor sits down with the main sail sheet loosely looped around his hand laxly, though he does have his boot clamped onto the coils of excess rope.

I stare into the distance, over the dark waters and out across the Mhyko Ocean. The Moon is sitting on the horizon, but no Sun is up. There isn’t a Sun anymore. It died, exploded Bynor says. We prospered as a species, but grew complacent and ignorant. We were given a waking reminder. That was around two hundred years ago. It was far before my time. I was born into this dark world.

Now that the accursed rain has stopped, we can relax. I’ll keep on eye out here. We are headed in the right direction, Bynor says while staring at me with his orange eyes.

His eyes are an oddity, all my life, Bynor is the only person I have ever seen with orange eyes, I’ve seen multiples with green, blue (like mine), brown, black, even yellow and even purple, but only one orange.

You still haven’t told me where we’re going, I complain.

I wave my hand over my face, brushing my wet and dark brown hair out of my eyes.

Fine, since you’re training is done. You are just about as good as a swordsman as I am and are undoubtedly the best fighter of anyone your age. I was going to tell you the moment we hit land, but if you insist, I’ll tell you we are headed into Bass Bay, near Seiko Mountain. We’re going Korith hunting to make a Delta Korith weapon for you. Just like Lozia, so get packing, Bynor answers thoroughly, patting his right side pocket.

In that pocket is Lozia the Delta Korith weapon. It is currently in its compact and dormant form, which simply looks like a sword hilt. It can shape shift into different weapons and accessories. It can become a myriad of swords, axes, shields, pole arms and so on. A Delta Korith weapon is one of the best Hunter inventions and I’m getting one.

Bynor flicks his shaggy hair to the side and lies down along the edge of the nine metre long boat. He’s fully dressed in Hunter’s gear, short sleeve shirt, single layer collared jacket and baggy leggings, all made from a nylon and leather synthetic compound. It’s comfortable, decent-looking, especially in black with his custom silver lining.

I climb down the stairs to where the cabins are located. Each cabin is only just over a two metres wide. The two cabins make about five metres of the boat while the remaining spaces makes the miniature below deck hallway, making the boat approximately four metres wide. There’s a small storage compartment in the bottom of the boat, protected by several layers of fibreglass, which holds our food and other stuff that we can’t cram under our beds.

I jump onto my bed and exhale into my twisted sheets. I haul myself out of my bed and start sorting through my stuff. My clothing scattered everywhere along with spare miscellaneous weapons and supplies. The entire time I’m going through all my stuff, I think of our situation. Ever since our fall, we humans as a species have yet to make a comeback.

Currently demons inhabit and control about three quarters of Naerdi. It’s presumed that Naerdi consists of parts that would have been of Oceania, Europe and Asia. Demon entity emergences during the creation of the planet and formation of the continents caused an extra landmass to be formed from drifting broken chunks from other continents, Bynor says that the scientists said.

The Mhyko Ocean lies along the east coast, the west coast was ill namely known as the European sector, but now is known as the Carnage Desert. The north region was known as the Asia sector, but now are the North Mountains, succeeded by tundra wasteland, coated with an everlasting blizzard and the main source of the demons, whether they have a vast population up there or spatial rifts are common up there is beyond me. The south is now our farm region and the haven for the surviving animal species. The centre and east coast is now a forest-coated battleground.

We don’t know what happened to the rest of the world. We don’t have the technology or supplies or incentive to travel far overseas and no one has attempted to contact us. We’re alone, but surviving.

The human species is struggling along. We are currently in a defensive state, but now Bynor is done training me and assured I can handle myself during combat. Now General Bynor Atrum will make his debut again. Bynor was a general of the resistance. He used to lead major assaults on the demons, he tales.

I continue sifting through my clothes, sorting them out into a bloody and torn up pile and a decent and wearable pile. I shove some of my better clothes into my rucksack and throw it beside my door.

We are both Hunters and proud. Hunters are those who are raised to fight demons and devote their life to killing demons. Actually that isn’t true. Hunters are trained and hardened until they’re worth a hundred demons, but we don’t exist to purely kill demons. Hunters are the defenders of humanity first and butchers of demon second.

Bynor has raised me like a son and also as his apprentice. From a young age, we spent hours everyday toughening my body, running along the shore, swimming alongside the boat, lifting weights and performing martial arts upon hard materials such as wood, then stone and then metal. Once I hit mid adolescence, he entrusted a blade to me and we dived into honing my skills with a sword.

Oi Kain! Bynor shouts, Get a box of matches and two new candles, I think the two up here are about to go out!

Sure thing! I call back as I reach back to the nightstand to grab my matchbox.

I roll off the edge of my bed as I pocket the matches and I land softly on my hands and knees. As I stretch up, I snatch two candles from beneath my bed. I sidestep my bag and into the hallway. The exact second my boot touches the hallway, the entire boat shudders like something slammed into the hull. The candles hit the floor as I grab the doorframe to steady myself.

Eye stinging red flashes across the deck door and I can smell something catching fire.

Teeyre demon! Bynor shouts, Dead the boat!

Blue skinned demonic lizard demon men of the water. They have dark to light blue skin and exposed purple veins. As implied, they are extremely good swimmers, fast and sleek as well as having a high cold tolerance. The strong can manipulate water to their will and the trained and elite can actually force all of their body heat into their hands to produce lasers from their finger-tips. It’s so unfair.

I can hear him dive into the water as I dash up the stairs. He’s already detached the clasps for the burning main sail so I sprint across the deck, accidentally step on his shirt and release the jib sheets, sending it limp and leaving the boat dead in the water.

A hand pops up and grabs onto the steel rim of the boat. I scramble to the edge and grab onto Bynor’s other arm as he reaches up. As I help him up, I’m dotted with green blood from his shoulders and chest. He spits Lozia in dagger form from his mouth and I jerk my head left to dodge it. He sits on the bench and I hand him a towel from the compartment below him. I grab another for myself as he dries himself off.

Did you get him? I ask, pointing at the green blood.

He shakes his head, Nah, I nicked his back, but the slippery slime shot off as soon as he tasted the Korith.

Hmm, why would a teeyre attack us? I ponder.

The thing probably thought we were a fishing boat that strayed north, Bynor shrugs.

No lone demon of an intermediate level would pick a fight with Hunters.

He rolls his shoulders as he stands up and lifts open the bench top. He points up at the half burnt away and smoldering main sail. I go to the mast and untie the halyard and start pulling down the ruined sail as Bynor hauls a replacement out. He chucks it onto the floor and unweaves the sheet, halyard and other attaching ropes as I pull the head of the main sail out from the mast. He loops all the ropes onto the floor beside the replacement sail and helps me detach the sail from the boom.

He shoves the ruined sail into the other bench compartment as I unzip the casing for the replacement. I haul it up as Bynor pulls the casing to the side. He grabs onto the new sheet and attaches the clews to the base and back of the boat. I tie a bowline to attach the halyard and the sail together. Bynor grabs onto the other end of the halyard and I help guide the side of the sail as he hoists it up through the mast.

He weaves the sheets through the clews attached to the boat and adjusts the boom into position. I quickly secure the end of the halyard onto the cleat and tie up the extra rope. Bynor yanks his shirt off the floor and splashes it into the seawater as I grab onto the tiller.

Which way? I call out to him.

He points towards the bow of the boat as he smacks his shirt against the outside of the hull, drying it somewhat. I keep the tiller straight as he slips his shirt back on and he sits down beside me. He holds a hand out and I change onto the other bench, Bynor swiftly snatching the tiller out of the air and keeping our boat stable.

Those lanterns still need changing, he murmurs absentmindedly, already setting the teeyre encounter to the back of his thoughts and concentrating upon more serious matters.

I stumble slowly down the stairs and comb the hallway, retrieving both candles. I tuck one under my left arm and hold onto the other with my left hand, so my right hand is free. I spot a suspended green and white striped rope. It’s the rope to secure the tiller into place when the skipper is busy. I throw the candles onto the deck and brace myself as I poke out through the opening.

I block Bynor’s right hook with my coiled left elbow as I jump up, sending a counter kick at his right side for good measure. He smacks away my kick with a left cross and I shoulder-roll across the deck, bumping into the bench. As I slowly regain my footing, my eyes fix on a smiling Bynor with poised and ready open hands. I shift my right leg back and raise my left hand, palm facing him. I keep my clawed right hand low, but primed. Nothing harsh, but always be ready and prepared to defend yourself at all costs.

Bynor rushes forward and I mimic his action, bouncing off my back foot. He kicks the tiller and the boat sways, the boom swinging across the entire width of the boat. Tricky. I duck to avoid getting smashed across the head, noticing Bynor’s sideways front foot, his sweeper stance. I can barely spot the shadow of his arm through the sail and I twist myself into a slide. I skid across the floor and Bynor’s knuckles brush against my cheek.

I spin as I straighten and my right elbow rockets at his lower left side. He’s wearing a smirk as he counters with a spinning high thigh parry as expected. I launch myself, pivoting my entire body and channelling the movement of my arm into my leg. My left knee soars up at his shoulder and I arch my back, angling my knee up at his neck.

He snakes a blocking elbow up beside his head and my knee fits into the small crook of his elbow, but the impact still lands solidly. He tumbles gracefully, bouncing off a sweeping palm and landing beside the bench. Although dazed, he kicks out and trips me over to my surprise. I slam into the wooden floor with a thump and we lock gazes, him on his backside and sprawled against the side of the bench and me on my back.

The corners of our mouths curl up and we both burst into idiotic laughter.

Nearly! he chuckles lightly, laughter subsiding, You nearly bested me, but you fell to the simplest move.

You’re one hell of a teacher, attacking his apprentice, I retort jokingly.

Toughen up kiddo, I thought I drilled that into years ago.

Aye you did… I mutter, rolling into a sitting position.

Bynor stretches out and kicks a candle into his hand. He holds out his other hand.

Toss me the matches, I’ll swap ‘em, you can actually relax for a bit now. I’ll signal when Bass Bay enters view.

I nod as I slip the matchbox from my pocket and I toss it to him as I approach the stairs. We both bring our right fists across our chests and to our left shoulders, tilting our heads to finish the Hunter’s Salute. I drift down the short stairs, take a sharp turn on my heel to my left and step into the cramped kitchen. I lean down and my behind hits the opposite wall. I throw open one of the cabinet doors and reach in to grab a water bottle. I stretch back up, my hair brushes against the ceiling and I flip open the middle cupboard hatch, picking out a small can of peaches. I pluck a fork from the small drying rack as I turn around.

I twist open the bottle with a swipe of my thumb and I flick the cap into the tiny bin beside the doorway as I walk out. I’m lucky to have Bynor as a mentor. He’s one of the very few Hunters still alive from before The Fall, he survived the initial genocide, must have fought one of the lords, maybe even Dierce and still going strong. He must be, what? Two hundred years old? Lengthened age expectancy must be a trait of the ninetieth century, before the shockwave, when technology was at its peak.

I flop onto my bed, kick off my boots and shuffle up against the wall, squishing my pillows. I take a hefty swig from the bottle and set it down beside my flickering bedside lantern. One hangs off each of the walls, but a close up one always helps. I fit the bottom of the bottle into an indentation quickly, feeling the boat tilt slightly as I do it.

The wind must have picked up. I recline into a low and comfortable position with my feet hanging off the edge of my bed. I fit my thumb into the ring in the lid of the can and give it a swift twist, popping it out easily. I lick the lid dry, throw it and it spins into the bin. I spin the fork through my fingers and jab it into the peaches.

I wonder what my future squad will be like. A squad is what it is, a united group that sticks together through thick and thin. A squad of Hunters is usually known as a Hunt, but they’ll sometimes be given or give themselves a particular title. The most famous squad was the Renegades.

The Renegades were eleven strong at their peak. Bynor never delved into this squad. I guess it is just trivia. The leader of the Renegades was Callinectes the Invincible Lord. The lieutenant was Reaper the Impaler. Then there was Vorpal the Twilight Dragon, Plague the Lustrous Thunderer, Fox the Meteor Stormer, Stalke the Vindictive Darkness, Lynne the Volatile Devastator, Xlohn the Ultimate Monster, Lirox the Treotex King and Rylare the Dusk Inferno. They were unstoppable. They marched into the underworld; sifted through a million billion demons and marched right out unfazed. What I would give to spend a few moments in the presence of even one of the Renegades, even if they would have to be in a spirit form.

A squad usually consists of a powerful leader who can burden the reality of choices, a resilient and faithful lieutenant who can support the leader and then various specialists. There are usually two or more main apex fighters, one or two reliable stealth operatives, some sort of sorcerer and at least one long-range specialist.

I lob the emptied can into the air, between sips of water, arcing it so none of the dregs spills and it clangs into the bin.

I shouldn’t dwell on such monotonous thoughts, draining the bottle of water, I turn onto my side and I drift into sleep.

As per usual routine, the moment I poke my head out of the opening, Bynor grabs onto the scruff of my bag and throws me off the boat. I spin in midair, stabilise myself and land on the damp sand of the shoreline in a kneeling position. I look over to Bynor for the order. He signals towards the forest on the other side of the bay with a tilt of his head and there are several pairs of eyes peering out of the tree line.

I can make out their body shapes with the light the trees are emitting. Two or three centuries ago, trees within dark southern regions evolved, they adapted against the darkness and now, every tree has three spiralling glow veins running up their trunks. I examine the silhouettes. Werewolves. I quickly get down low and Bynor waves me off.

Search the mines of Seiko Mountain, one of them must contain a lump of Korith, I’ll deal with this mess, he whispers over the side, I’ll find my own path.

In the distance, I can sense a… more powerful presence behind the werewolf pack as well as a group of non-demonic presences. This is something Bynor doesn’t want me to tangle with, whether at my risk or some hidden agenda.

Where will we meet? I whisper back, deciding to respect his decision.

Evandia, now go! he loudly whispers, Go!

CHAPTER TWO

Darkened Grounds

I nod. I keep low as I sprint towards the foliage and dive into the bushes. Thorns tear at me and they tear numerous holes in my clothes, but they don’t penetrate my skin. I look over my shoulder to see Bynor has locked the cabin door and is slowly winding down the sails, which are to be tied up. I pull my hoodie over my head and as I duck down, Bynor jumps over the railing. He removes Lozia from his pocket after he splashes into the shallow lake and changes it into a broadsword.

A foot unit, the werewolf warrior—more commonly known as a werewarrior—jumps out from the trees and dashes on all fours through the water with ease. Bynor turns around, gliding Lozia through the water and he skims Lozia up, spraying stinging salt water into the werewolf’s face. The werewolf falters and Bynor swings Lozia elegantly upwards on his second twirl, lodging it within the chest cavity of the werewolf for a clean and easy kill. Black demon blood contaminates the water of the bay as Bynor descends into slaughter.

More than a dozen more werewarriors slink out from the trees and they approach Bynor slowly as he cuts them down one by one. I should get going, I get a good grip on my backpack and break into a steady run. I pace myself, but keep my steps silent and my breathing hidden and controlled. Seiko Mountain isn’t too far from Bass Bay and I can already see it through the canopy. I only have

Reviews for The Fall

[schmerguls · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

825 The Fall A Novel, by Albert Camus translated by Justin O'Brien (read 19 Oct 1965) I did not post-reading note on this book and do not recall it much. I think I was not very with the deeper meaning in the book. Wikipedia has an extensive article on the book:The Fall (Albert Camus novel) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

[nickelcopper · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is my first work of Camus and it was tremendous. It's not something I can sit down and digest in one sitting, but something that has to be contemplated and discussed, or the book will beat you. The first time I read it, it was definately smarter than I, but round two with some discussion was well worth it. Great read.

[jimmychanga · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Wow, what a mind-fuck of a good book. The human voice is the most atrocious sound in the world. This book is like an endless replica of that voice, turned into a little human bone, lodged in the human ear.

[michaelbartley · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I found that in this book Camus explores the edges of existentialism. somewhat similar in what he did in the stranger, same sort of main character, expect this time the character feels some remose. he looks back on his life and feels regart

[ctpress_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The ramblings of Clemence - where we are the listeners - is brilliantly constructed. It seems accidental, but no - every little casual remark is planted with great care by a genius storyteller. Clemence babbles along, first full of confidence, bravado and cheering for himself - his own goodness and then suddently - a splash - a women drowning in the river and he does nothing. Brushes it away...But forever haunted by this scream (now a laughter) - how he discovers he really do not know himself - he cannot trust himself - all his good deeds is just to polish his own ego. And I think that Clemence’s basic fear is that people will find out who he really is - that the world will discover what he really thinks when he is totally alone with himself. Without anyone to confide in.Oh, he is clever, and honest, that Camus. He makes me think. A lot.

[takeitorleaveit_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

different than the Stranger in the sense that our narrator is a witty jack-ass, this book also influenced the post-punk movement in a similar way clearly with the band The Fall and numerous other artists that were moved by Camus' mentality. an existentialist reader isn't especially an 'exi' but should understand the idea well after reading The Fall.

[ravrita · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The Fall is a fantastic book that I was surprised that I had not already read. The story is about a London lawyer that has changed his life from the selfish, self absorbed, career enhancer that he was to a more reflective recluse that helps others. His transformation did not come easy to him. The book is a diatribe of the main character's life to a stranger he meets in a bar in Amsterdam. The personal demons that caused him to pause and reflect reside in all of us. What would cause you to question how you are living your life?

[raggedprince · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Anyboody interested in exploring the question: 'Do lawyers have any conscience whatsover?' might be interested in how it's explored here. Those who already know the correct answer (no) will still find a remarkable and edifying read. Deserves to be as well read as 'the outsider'.

[bale_5 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Wow, what an amazing novel! Camus’ theological-philosophical inferences painted within in a fog-filled arena of muted tones make for a heavily weighted, entrancing read. With its universal implications, The Fall should be on everyone’s, “to read” list.

[bookomaniac-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Las dit toen ik 16 jaar was, en was erg onder de indruk.

[jorgearanda_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Leaving the cumbersome translation aside, this is a short but deep exploration of conscience, guilt, and ulterior motives. I wish I had even a tenth of Camus' introspective powers and blinding honesty.

[jlelliott_2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Bleak but beautiful, The Fall is one of those books that reveals humans for what they are. The lawyer protagonist has worked all his life for justice, but to what end? He would like to believe that he has a selfless interest in downtrodden people and lofty ideals, but as the book progresses he is forced to confront his hypocrisy. He works hard ultimately for himself, he enjoys the public image of himself as a selfless person. The realization tortures him, and to resolve the hypocrisy he stops all his charitable endeavors and hurls himself into a life of selfish pleasure. But can any of us claim true selflessness? Camus is of course a master at showing us the hypocrisy and ridiculousness lurking under our highest ideals, and this book is no exception.

[bnielsen_30 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Amsterdam, ca 1955En tidligere advokat, Jean-Baptiste Clamence, er meget snakkevorn og sidder i et hollandsk værtshus og fortæller sin historie. Han kalder sig selv en bodfærdig dommer og hans fortælling er mest af alt en bekendelse (og Jean-Baptiste = Johannes Døberen tyder jo også på et religiøst tema for historien).???Camus udstiller løgnen og hykleriet under selv de mest beundringsværdige handlinger. Nå ja, og så har advokater ifølge ham ingen samvittighed. Det er nok ikke den store overraskelse for læseren.

[trilliams · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I love this guy.

[hemlokgang · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It is humbling to read anything by Camus. In this novella, set up as a monologue by the narrator with an audience of a man he met in a bar, Camus, as usual, evokes self-examination. The narrator has set himself up as a "judge-penitent" whose mission is to teach the truth that all people are responsible....guilty...and can only be set free by acknowledging this. If you choose to read the novella, you will learn how the narrator "fell" from his prior life into his current one, and how civilization also "fell". A powerful treatise of judgement, truth, and just being human.

[jonfaith · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A few years ago my wife and i were in the UK, in Reading, and we had went out for drink with her brother. A gentleman walked over and sat next to us and began unfolding his life story, one rife with accomplishment i.e. he had been kicked out of the French Foreign Legion for being too violent and then he had made millions speculating in global markets. Presently, he "was between things",as it were. He went on and on about the superiority of the German and Japanese people and why ego was all that mattered. This grew uncomfortable and polite asides weren't working. We finally left. I had a similar impression in finally reading The Fall.

Effective, yet I felt it was an essay as monologue and not a novel. It certainly must have been evocative at the time of its publication.

[daedalus_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book is Holyshitgood. I love it. It was the first Camus I read and he's been in my literary pantheon ever since.

[Kody P · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I really liked the book. The story itself is really neat and pretty unique. Was pretty sad to see there's no sequel/ next book.