Nausea

Sartre’s novel Nausea is with me this week. In a form of journal diary, it depicts his character, Antoine Roquentin, a young French writer, experienced his own existence as a human being living in the world. Seemingly fallen into a cold and dark hole, it is horrible to feel self-existence and the world in that way, which made him nausea. Under constantly philosophical and psychological struggles, Roquentine finally realized this is the initial state of living. He tried to find an exit to get out of it- devoted him to writing a book to stop feeling that he exists, to accept himself without much repugnance.
Like a friend sharing with me of his life experience, Roquentin’s feelings of his existence as a being touched me. The feelings he experienced (emptiness, nothingness, meaningless) is not out of my reach, instead they are my guests and visit me occasionally, upset me for while then vanished, left my body keep moving in the world. I had regarded it as a kind of “Youth’s wonder” and consoled myself that maybe they will say farewell to me forever when I get more mature (older). Sartre’s genus is he could sense this kind of state of living, and could think of it thoroughly, analyze it deeply in order to dig out the reasons that lie behind, rather neglect it as most of us do, so he becomes a philosopher as the founder of Existentialism.
What Sartre digs out summarized in one sentence is “existence precedes essence.” That is, initially, being is nothingness and the outside world is meaningless (a frightening state of existence as Roquentin perceived). We have to put meaning in it by making choices and taking actions, which will finally make what we are. For each individual, it is his freedom as well as responsibility to commit himself to do so.
As Sartre said, “Life begins on the other side of despair.” It is an unpleasant account, while if we would think it over honestly, it reveals a truth about life we all live on.