Nausea

Set in the fictional town of Bouville, the narrative unfolds through Roquentin’s reflections in diary entries as he deals with a feeling of nausea, disgust. Sartre masterfully illustrates themes of existentialism, questioning the essence of human existence and the struggle to find meaning in a world, that seemingly doesn't care.

Jean-Paul Charles Aymard Sartre (1905–1980) was a French philosopher, novelist and political activist, regarded as one of the leading authors in existentialism. Born in Paris as an only child, he grew up in a middle class family after the early death of his father. Sartre pursued his education at École Normale Supérieure, one of Europe’s top universities. His early intellectual influences included phenomenology, a philosophy centered on perception, which significantly shaped his philosophical outlook.

In Sartre's first novel, Nausea (La Nausée) (1938), which he worked on for five years, many themes that would later emerge in his philosophical works are already lowkey present. Originally, Sartre intended to title his novel Melancholia, referencing Albrecht Dürer; his publisher Gallimard rejected this title in favor of Nausea.

Dedicated to his lifelong partner, Simone de Beauvoir, whom he met during his studies, the novel opens with a quote from Louis Ferdinand Céline: »C’est un garçon sans importance collective, c’est tout juste un individu« which translates to »This guy has no value for society; he is just an individual«.

Sartre's and Madame de Beauvoir's relationship was unconventional, characterized by a mutual respect for each other's intellect and a commitment to personal freedom. Together, they explored and discussed gender and ethics influencing each other’s works.

Sartre's political views were influenced by Marxism, and he believed that individual freedom and responsibility should extend beyond philosophy to practical political engagement. He saw existentialism not only as a personal philosophical exploration but also as a framework for understanding societal structures and class struggles. In 1964, Sartre famously declined the Nobel Prize in Literature, stating that he did not want to be institutionalized by such an award, reinforcing his belief in maintaining personal and intellectual independence.

What stood out to me the most is the heavy emphasis on description — entire entries where nothing happens, contrasting with others that hold pivotal moments, making them more outstanding.

»Monday: F***ed, without further incident.«

One of the book’s peaks is Roquentin’s conversation with his ex-lover, Anny. Although you sense the conversation's outcome, Sartre leaves you with a feeling of emptiness. Their relationship feels toxic; it's as if she once gave his life meaning, and now, in her absence, he must confront existence alone. The relationship is dysfunctional, with both characters seeming to be made for each other, yet their connection is profoundly flawed.

Sartre’s use of a fictional town, Bouville, adds a layer of unreality to the setting. At one point, I found myself searching for this town on Google Maps, only to realize it doesn’t exist. It is widely assumed that Bouville in the novel is a portrayal of Le Havre, where Sartre was living and teaching in the 1930s as he wrote it.

Another pivotal moment occurs when Roquentin observes a Horse chestnut tree in a park and realizes that, while we know the function of a root, the existence of that particular root cannot be justified. This scene is so extended that it's impossible not to grasp its importance.

Nausea is not an easy book. There are passages you might need to read multiple times, like I did. Sartre’s depiction of feelings, particularly Roquentin’s existential crisis, is so raw and unique in its expression; it’s no wonder that a philosophy arose from it.

I resonated with his interactions with "the Autodidact". Sartre masterfully portrays this character, only to reveal that the Autodidact is not as admirable as he seems. You might question whether this portrayal was necessary, but the intent from the author is clear.

Roquentin’s embrace of music and art as a solution to his nausea represents a profound moment of clarity. This shift in focus feels like a significant realization, illuminating his path forward. Roquentin realizes that true meaning comes from creative expression, a sentiment I didn’t expect given the novel’s bleak tone. His decision to write his own works rather than continue researching Marquis de Rollebon signifies a new approach to life, rooted in existentialism.

»I may want to join a party, write a book, get married; all of this is merely an expression of a more original, spontaneous choice than what we call will.«

While nihilism suggests that life is inherently meaningless and leads to despair, existentialism, as reflected in Roquentin's journey, emphasizes that one can create personal meaning.

Stylistically, Nausea is challenging, particularly due to the structure of the book. There’s a significant amount of additional material in the form of cut passages that appear as footnotes. At first, this is jarring, but it’s also part of what makes the novel unique. I skipped over some of these sections because the reading experience was too disconnected, but there were other times when they added valuable insights. The lesson we can take from this is to disregard your editor, boss, or anyone else when you believe your ideas are valuable. These are the ideas that didn't make it in, but they ultimately find their way back in, just in a worse form.

Ultimately, the book grounds you not in societal norms but in the raw reality of existence itself — something isolating and sometimes absurd, yet it offers a strange sense of freedom.

Nausea is not a book for everyone. Its introspection can be exhausting, and the lack of traditional plot structure may frustrate some readers. But if you’re looking for a deep, philosophical challenge, I recommend it. Sartre does more than just write about existentialism — he immerses you in it, forcing you to deal with the same questions that haunt Roquentin.

This novel was also my gateway to Albert Camus, another existentialist writer associated with absurdism, I’ll discuss here.