Philosophical fiction and its tendency to dwell on and thoroughly dissect human thought and feeling is a unique and precious thing, and Sartre achieves it to an incredible degree. The novel follows Antoine, who Sartre uses to explore his existentialist philosophy - Antoine grapples with the absurd meaninglessness of his existence, the one that owes him nothing and will not explain itself, and suffers with the Nausea that grips him in this confusion. Whilst this novel is extremely dense, the ideas Sartre explores are fascinating, and his prose is very solemnly beautiful. How does one draw meaning from a relentless existence, one as bizarre as that of a tree or a bench, how does one justify attributing it meaning at all? Extremely contemplative and a wonderful study of existentialist philosophy. I think I will be referring back to this novel for a long time.

'I...I am outliving myself.'
What can I say to her? Do I know any reasons for living? I don't feel the same despair she does, because I never expected very much. I am rather...astonished at this life which is given to me - given for nothing. I keep my head bowed. I don't want to see Anny's face at this moment.