What One Loves

Rambert has seen heroism before. He covered the Spanish Civil War. He knows what it looks like when people become certain they are on the right side of history, and he knows what they tend to do afterward.

So when the doctors invite him to join the fight against the plague, he says no, and gives his reasons. Heroism is easy. It is also, in his experience, capable of killing people. What interests him instead is living and dying for what one loves.

That is not cowardice, and Camus does not write it as cowardice. It is a real position. Heroism attaches you to an idea, and ideas will accept any sacrifice you offer them, including other people’s. Love attaches you to somebody specific, and specific people put a limit on what you are willing to do.

The distinction matters more than it sounds. Almost every atrocity has been carried out by someone who felt heroic at the time. Very few have been carried out by someone thinking about one particular face. Rambert eventually stays and works. But he stays on his own terms, having first refused the flattering version of himself.

Check what you are actually serving. If it is an idea, ask who it is for by name.