Chapter 11 Chapter 10 The Beginning of the Lockdown

While the townspeople struggled to adjust to their sudden exile, the plague had put guards at the city gates and diverted the ships bound for Oran.Since the city was closed, not even a car has entered the city.From the day the city was closed, the cars seemed to be spinning in circles.Looking down from the heights of Linyin Avenue, the port also presents an unusual view: it is one of the largest ports on the entire coastline, but now the bustle and bustle have disappeared all of a sudden.A few quarantined ships were still moored there, but on the quays, the idle cranes, the dump trucks with their bodies tilted to one side, the solitary piles of wine barrels and sacks, it all showed that the trade, too, was plagued by the plague. took life.

In spite of the unusual sights before us, it seems that the people of our city still can't figure out what's going on.Of course, everyone was terrified, or felt the pain of parting, but each still put his private affairs first, and no one really acknowledged that the disease was coming.For most people, what they mainly feel is that their habits have been broken and their interests have been damaged.They were annoyed, angry, but that was not the only way to fight the plague.Their first reaction was to blame the authorities.The press reflected the crowd's criticism ("Is it possible to consider relaxing some of the measures currently in place?"), and the prefect's reply was quite unexpected: so far, neither the newspaper nor the Ransdoc Intelligence Bureau has received an official report The statistics of the epidemic in the past are now sent to the bureau by the governor every day, and they are required to be published once a week.

The public didn't react immediately, however.Because it was announced that a total of 302 people died in the third week of the plague, such news did not arouse public speculation.In the first place, it is possible that not all of the three hundred and two died of the plague; in the second place, no one in the city knew how many people died each week under normal circumstances.The total number of residents in this city is 200,000, and everyone does not know whether the above-mentioned death rate is normal.Although such precise figures have obvious significance, no one usually asks them.It can be said that the public lacks a basis for comparison.It will take a long time for the death toll to increase before the public realizes the truth.The death toll in the fifth week was 321, and in the sixth week it had reached 345.The increase in the figures was at least convincing, but not strong enough to change the minds of the townspeople, who, under a cloud of gloom, still believed that this was only an unpleasant accident and that after all it would not be delayed. too long.

They continued to come and go in the street, or sat on the terrace of the cafe.Generally speaking, they were not yet cowards, and laughed more than moaned, and greeted this apparently temporary inconvenience with a smile.So the city's decency was preserved.But towards the end of the month, almost during the week of prayer, which is to be referred to below, new and more serious circumstances changed the face of the city.First of all, the governor took some measures with regard to traffic and food supply: food was restricted, gasoline was rationed, and electricity was even conserved.Only necessities can be transported to Oran by road and air.During this period, the traffic vehicles in the city gradually decreased until the traffic was almost completely stopped. Stores selling luxury goods soon closed, and signs of "out of stock" appeared in the windows of other stores, while buyers were waiting in the store. There was a long line at the door.

Oran presents a strange scene: more pedestrians, even during off-peak hours, as shops and certain offices are closed, and idle people fill the streets and cafés.For the time being, they are not unemployed, it can only be said that they are on vacation.At three o'clock in the afternoon, under a clear sky, Oran almost gave the false image of a festive city: traffic stopped, shops closed to allow mass celebrations to take place, citizens flooded the streets Share the joy of the holidays. Needless to say, cinemas don't miss public holidays like this, and they take advantage of the opportunity to boost their business.But the normal rotation of films in the province had been interrupted, so after two weeks of showings the theaters had to exchange films with each other, and after a while the theaters finally had to show the same films again and again.But their income has not decreased.

Finally, let’s talk about the coffee shop.In a city where the trade in wine and spirits was at the forefront, stocks of these goods were always considerable, and the cafés were able to satisfy their customers.To be honest, I drank a lot.A coffee shop posted an advertisement that "alcoholic alcohol has antiseptic effect". The public naturally believed that alcohol can prevent infectious diseases, and the public opinion expressed their firm belief in this.At two o'clock in the middle of the night, there are a considerable number of drunks who have been kicked out of the hotel on the streets, and optimistic remarks can be heard everywhere.

But all these changes are in a sense so extraordinary and so sudden that it's hard to say they're normal or lasting.In the end, personal emotions still occupy a major position in everyone's mind. Two days after the closure of the city, Dr. Rieux came out of the hospital and met Cottard, who greeted Rieux proudly.Rieux said he looked fine. The dwarf said, "Yes, I am perfectly well. Doctor, please tell me, this damned plague, eh! Is it getting serious?" The doctor admitted that this was the case, but Cottard commented in an unusually light tone: "Now it has no reason to stop spreading. Everything will be messed up by it."

The two of them walked for a while together.Cottard tells of a big grocer in his District A who hoarded for a profit.When they came to take him to the hospital, they found canned food hidden under the bed. "He died in the hospital, and the plague won't pay him." Cottard was full of such true and false rumors about the plague.For example, it is said that in the inner city, one morning, a man with symptoms of plague, delirious with high fever, ran out of the house, threw himself on the first woman he met, hugged her tightly, and shouted that he had died. Got the plague. "Well!" said Cottard, in a tone incompatible with his tone, "we will all go mad, that's for sure."

That same afternoon, Joseph Grand finally confided his secret to Dr. Rieux.Seeing the photograph of Madame Rieux on the desk, he turned to look at Rieux.Rieux replied that his wife was away on convalescence. "In a sense," said Grand, "it's luck." The doctor replied that it was luck, if only she got better. "Ah! I understand what you mean," said Grand. For the first time since Rieux had first known Grand, he talked so much.Although he still speaks with precision, he almost always finds the right words, as if he had already thought about what he was about to say.

Geming got married very early to a poor young girl from a neighbor's house.He dropped out of school and worked just to get married.Neither Jeanne nor he had ever been outside their district.He had come to see her at her house, and Jeanne's parents were a little amused at the sight of their taciturn and clumsy suitor.Her father was a railroad worker, and he was often seen sitting in the corner by the window during his breaks, his thick hands flat on his lap, gazing thoughtfully at the street scene.Her mother is busy with housework all day long.Jeanne helped her.She was so slender that Grand always had to worry about her whenever he saw her crossing the road: all the vehicles were huge when they came in front of her.One day they were passing by a shop selling Christmas presents, and she was fascinated by what was displayed in the window, leaning back against him and saying, "It's so beautiful." He held her hand tightly. Wrist. That way they're booked for life.

What happened after that, according to Grand, was very ordinary, just like ordinary people: they were married, still a little in love, both of them worked, and when they were busy with work, their love faded away.Because the office director broke his promise, Jeanna had to work.Readers who read here should use some imagination to understand Grand's words.The tiring work fueled his thoughts of drifting and muddling along, he talked less and less, and he failed to continue to satisfy his wife's hope: still get his love.A man who is busy with work, lives in poverty, his prospects are gradually dimming, and he is silent at the dinner table every night. How can there be love in such an environment?Jeanne may have suffered, but she could not bear to leave him at the time; it is also the case that people drink bitter wine for a long time without knowing it.Year after year passed like this, and in the end, she left.Of course she didn't go alone. "I loved you, but now I'm tired... I don't feel happy because of this departure, but I don't necessarily find a new start for happiness." This is the general meaning of her letter. Now it was Joseph Grand's turn to suffer.He could have a new beginning, as Rieux had reminded him, but he lost faith. He just thinks about her a lot.He had thought of writing a letter to her to defend himself. "But," he said, "it is difficult. I have thought about it for a long time. When we are in love, we understand each other without words. But love is not permanent, and there was a time when I I could have found something to keep her, but I failed." Grand blew his nose with a check handkerchief, and wiped his mustache.Rieux looked at him. "Doctor," said old man Grand, "excuse me, but what shall I say? . . . I trust you. In your presence I can speak, and what I say excites me." Clearly, Grand was far from concerned with the plague. In the evening, Rieux sent a telegram to his wife, telling her that the city was closed, that he was in good health, and that she should continue to take care of her health, that he was thinking of her. Three weeks after the lockdown, when Rieux came out of the hospital, he saw a young man waiting for him. The man said, "I think you know me." Rieux felt as if he had seen him before, but he wondered not to be sure. "I came to you before the incident to learn about the life of the Arabs," said the man. "My name is Raymond Rambert." "Ah, yes! Now you have a lot to do," said Rieux. The other party seemed a little annoyed. He said that he didn't come for this matter, he came to ask Dr. Rieux for help. He went on: "Excuse my presumption, but I have no acquaintance in this town, and our newspaper correspondent is unfortunately a fool." Rieux invited him to accompany him on a walk to a dispensary in the center because he had something to order.They walked down the side streets of the black ghetto.The sky is getting hazy, but the city, which used to be very noisy at this time, has become surprisingly quiet now. The sound of bugles from the afterglow sky can only show that the soldiers are still acting as if they are on a mission. look.They walked down the steeply sloping street lined with the blue and ocher and purple walls of the Arabian houses.Rambert talked with great emotion.He had left his wife in Paris, and it wasn't his wife, really, but it wasn't much different.He had sent her a telegram after the lockdown began.At first he didn't think it would last long, he just wanted to try to communicate with her.His colleagues in Oran told him there was nothing they could do about it; the post office turned him away; a provincial secretary scoffed at his request.He ended up standing in a queue for two hours and was allowed to send a telegram that simply said, "Everything is all right, see you soon." But when he got up this morning, it suddenly occurred to him that after all he could not predict how long the situation would last, and decided to leave Oran.Since he had been introduced (his profession has this convenience), he was able to meet the head of the Provincial Office, to whom he explained the reason: he has nothing to do with the city of Oran, there is no need to stay here, he happened by chance He is here, so it is reasonable to let him go, even if he has to be quarantined after going out.The director told him that he understood this very well, but he just couldn't make an exception.The director added that he would look into it again, but in general the situation was serious and no decision could be taken. Rambert said: "But I am a stranger after all." "There is no doubt about it, but all in all, I still hope that the epidemic will not drag on for too long." To end the conversation, he tried to comfort Rambert, reminding him that good reports could be found in Oran, and that, if thought about carefully, there was a silver lining to any incident.Rambert could only shrug his shoulders.By this time they had reached the center of the city. "What nonsense, doctor, you understand. I wasn't born to write reports. Maybe I was born to live with a woman. Isn't that a natural thing?" In any case, said Rieux, the statement seemed reasonable. On the streets in the central area, what I saw was no longer the usual crowd.Several passers-by hurried to the distant residence, but none of them smiled.This, Rieux thought, was caused by the report from the Ransdock Intelligence Bureau that day.Under normal circumstances, citizens would have regained their confidence 24 hours after the event, but on the same day, people still remember the numbers. Rambert said suddenly: "It's because of her and I. We've known each other for a short time, but we're very speculative." Rieux said nothing. Rambert continued: "I am bothering you. I just want to ask you to give me a certificate stating that I am free from this unfortunate disease. I think it may be of use to me." Rieux nodded in agreement.At this time a little boy fell on his leg and fell to the ground. He picked him up gently, and the two started to walk to the parade ground again.The branches of fig trees and palm trees hung motionless, covered with gray dust, and among the trees stood a dusty, dirty statue of the Republic.They stopped in front of the statue, and Rieux kicked the ground one after the other with his two ashes-covered feet.He looked at Rambert. The reporter had his fedora hat on the back of his head, the collar of his shirt with a tie was unbuttoned, his mustache had not been properly shaved, and he had a resentful expression on his face. Rieux finally said: "I understand your feelings, and you have no doubts about that. But your thinking is wrong. I can't prove it for you, because in fact I don't know if you have this disease, even if You are not sick now, and I can't prove that you won't catch it when you leave me until you enter the provincial government. Besides, even if..." "Besides, even what?" Rambert asked. "Besides, even if I give you proof, it won't help you." "Then why?" "Because there are thousands of people in your situation in the city, but none of them was let go." "But suppose none of them have the plague themselves?" "This reason is not enough. I also understand that this is a joke, but it is related to everyone's safety, and this is the only way to do it." "But I'm not from here!" "From now on, alas, you are a person here, like everyone else." Rambert became agitated and said: "It's a matter of humanity, I swear to you. Maybe you don't know what it's like to be separated from a like-minded couple." Rieux did not answer immediately.After a while, he said he thought he could appreciate that.He wished with all his heart that Rambert would be reunited with his lover, that all lovers would be reunited, but because of the laws and the plague, it was his business to do what he had to do. "No," said Rambert bitterly, "you don't understand, you're talking big things, you're living in abstractions." The doctor looked up at the statue that symbolized the Republic and said that he didn't know if he was talking about the truth, but he was talking about the obvious facts, and the two are not necessarily the same thing.The reporter straightened his tie and said, "So according to you, I have to think of another way? But," he continued in an unconvinced tone, "I will leave this city." The doctor said that he understood his thoughts, but this matter had nothing to do with him. Rambert broke out and exclaimed: "No, it's about you. I've come to you because I've been told that you have a big part to play in this decision. I thought at the time that your participation The person who tied the bell can untie it at least once. But you don't do anything, you don't care about anyone. You don't think about people who are separated." In a certain sense, Rieux admitted, this was true, and he really did not want to think about the situation in this regard. "Ah! I see," said Rambert, "you are going to say something for the public good, but the public good must also be based on personal happiness!" Jia'e seemed to wake up from a state of distraction. "Come," he said, "there's not only one side, but another, don't judge. But it's never right for you to get angry. I'd be very happy if I could solve your problem. But the problem is I The responsibility lies in it, and there is no favoritism." Rambert could not help shaking his head. "Yes, it was my fault for getting angry. And I wasted a lot of your time." Rieux demanded that Rambert keep him informed of the results of the proceedings, and begged the reporter not to worry about him.He also said that there will definitely be a plan to bring them together in the future.Rambert suddenly looked perplexed, and after a silence he said: "I believe it, no matter what I think or what you have just said to me, I believe it." Then he hesitated again and said: "But I cannot agree with you." He pressed his felt hat to his forehead and walked away quickly, and Rieux watched him enter the hotel where Jean Tarrou was staying. After a while, the doctor shook his head. Of course, the reporter's anxiety to regain happiness is justified, but is it correct to blame him for "living in abstractions"?The plague spread faster, and the number of victims in the hospital reached five hundred people a week. Could it be that the days he spent in the hospital were also abstract?It is true that there are abstractions or unrealities in this disaster, but when this abstraction involves the issue of human life and death, it must be taken seriously and cannot be taken lightly.All Rieux knew was that it was not the easiest thing to do.For example, the auxiliary hospital he is in charge of (there are now three such hospitals) is not very easy to manage.He asked someone to modify the room facing the outpatient room for receiving patients.A pool was dug on the ground of that room, and a stinky potion was added to the water. There was a small brick platform in the center of the pool.The patient was lifted onto the platform, quickly undressed, and thrown into the pool.The patient was washed and dried, put on the rough hospital shirt, brought to Rieux, and entered the ward.Now we have no choice but to use the school's wind and rain playground to accommodate patients. A total of 500 beds have been placed, but almost all of them are filled with patients.In the morning Rieux personally presided over the hospitalization of patients, epidemic prevention, incision of groin lumps, etc., and checked the statistics. He went back to see the outpatient clinic in the afternoon, and finally went to the clinic in the evening until he returned home late at night.His mother had noticed his hands trembling the night before, as she had handed him the telegram from her daughter-in-law. "It's shaking," he said, "but if I keep at it, I won't be so nervous." He was strong enough to hold up, and in fact he was not fatigued.It was the circumstances of these visits that overwhelmed him.Once it is determined that it is a plague, the patient has to be transported away immediately, and then he has to start talking about abstract principles. Difficult scenes also begin to appear, because the patient's family members know that the patient can only be seen again after heals or dies. "Poor thing, doctor!" said Mrs. Lorey, the mother of the maid who worked in Tarrou's hotel.But what's the use?Of course he felt sorry for her.But it didn't do anybody any good, he had to call.After a while, an ambulance's alarm bell sounded.At first, the neighbors opened the window to look in, and then rushed to close the window.What follows is struggling, crying, persuading, and in short abstract ideas.In these feverish and panic-ridden apartments, there were frenzied scenes, but the sick were taken away, and Rieux himself was finally able to go. On the first few occasions, Rieux telephoned and rushed to see other patients without waiting for the ambulance to arrive.But then the patient's family closed the door, preferring to be with the plague patient rather than say goodbye to him, because they knew in their hearts how this parting would end.First shouts, orders, followed by police intervention, and finally by the army, who forcibly took the patient away.For the first few weeks Rieux had to wait until the ambulance arrived.Later, when each doctor was accompanied by a volunteer plainclothes policeman, Rieux could go from house to house.But for a while at first, every night was like that night in Mrs. Lowrey's small apartment: when he entered the room, which was decorated with fans and artificial flowers on the walls, the patient's mother smiled. He came to meet him and said, "I don't think this is the kind of fever everyone is talking about?" He removed the blanket and shirt, and silently observed the erythema and swollen lymph nodes on the patient's abdomen and thighs.The mother looked at her daughter's legs, and couldn't control herself anymore, and screamed.It was like this every night, the mothers weeping before the fatal symptoms of their exposed bellies, their faces bewildered and bewildered; The promises, the crying, the confusion; every night the ambulance's alarm bells gave rise to scenes of futility, emotion, and pain, and the long evening visits and the uniformity of the situations encountered, finally Rieux felt that nothing but this same scene Except for repeated appearances, I can't expect anything else to appear.It is true that the plague was as immutable as abstract truths, except that one thing might be changing, and that was Rieux himself.He had felt it that night in front of the statue symbolizing the Republic: he fixed his eyes on the door of the hotel where Rambert's figure had disappeared, and felt that unbearable insensitivity had invaded his whole soul. After a few exhausting weeks of life, when the whole town was thronging the streets every night after dusk, Rieux understood that it was no longer necessary to exert any effort to restrain his sympathy.When people feel that sympathy is not helpful, they get tired of it.The only thing that relieved Rieux during those suffocating days was the feeling that his heart was slowly hardening.He understands that this will make things easier to complete, so he uses it to comfort himself.His mother felt uncomfortable seeing Rieux's blank eyes when he came home at two o'clock in the middle of the night, and was also deeply distressed because Rieux ignored the only warmth of maternal love he could get.To struggle with abstractions one has to be like him.But how could this make Rambert understand this?For Rambert abstract ideas were everything that was contrary to his happiness.In truth, Rieux also knew that the reporter was right in a certain sense.But he also knew that sometimes abstractions mattered more than happiness, and that in this case, and only in this case, the former had to be valued.This was what was going to happen to Rambert, and Rieux would learn the details in what Rambert would say to him later.In this way, the dark and sinister struggle between the personal happiness of each person and the abstract ideas connected with the plague unfolded in a new situation and constituted the whole activity of the city during this long period.And Rieux was involved in the struggle from beginning to end.