Ni oui ni non, le langage est seulement une machine a fabriquer du doute. (1) publication in 1994 of Camus's final, unfinished novel, Le Premier Homme prompted a renewal of interest in his work, and particularly in his relationship to Algeria. Ata time when colonial and postcolonial studies were becoming increasingly influential, Le Premier Homme reminded readers that Camus was first and foremost an Algerian writer. It encouraged a more sympathetic and better-informed reassessment of his ambivalence toward French Algeria and Algerian independence. In a comprehensive reevaluation of the significance of Algeria in Camus's work, David Carroll records how reading Le Premier Homme led him to revise entirely his earlier views. (2) By contrast, the posthumous publication of Camus's first completed novel La Mort heureuse more than two decades earlier in 1971 elicited a relatively muted response. It attracted some scholarly attention, but nothing comparable to the continuing academic and commercial interest occasioned by Le Premier Homme. (3) novel was seen an interesting failure. Camus had worked on it between 1936 and 1938 but left it unpublished in his lifetime. Encouraged by the similarity of the protagonist's name, Patrice Mersault, to that of Meursault in L'Etranger, most readers have regarded La Mort heureuse at best a stage along the way to the later novel. (4) current article does not aim to challenge this assessment in itself. Rather, by placing La Mort heureuse and L'Etranger in the context of philosophical skepticism, it argues that the deadlock at the core of La Mort heureuse is an unresolved tension between a desire for lyrical possession of the world and a sense that reality and experience elude narrative; moreover, the article suggests that this unresolved tension is in fact the condition that all Camus's subsequent literary works, up to and including Le Premier Homme, continue to negotiate. According to Stanley Cavell, skepticism in its modern philosophical form can be traced to Descartes's Meditations (1641). Cavell argues that Descartes's work signals a reorientation of the skeptical problematic: The issue posed is no longer, or not alone, with earlier skepticism, how to conduct oneself best in an uncertain world; the issue suggested is how to live at all in a groundless world. Our skepticism is a function of our now illimitable desire. (5) Descartes himself sets out to refute the claim that the world is groundless, but be begins by throwing doubt onto everything that can be doubted. In the attempt to salvage the possibility of knowledge, be accepts that he must proceed by first conceding that everything we think we know may be wrong. very existence and constitution of the external world that I believe I inhabit cannot be known for certain: I may be dreaming, or mad, or the victim of an evil deity. (6) Out of Descartes's enquiry, however, there soon emerges the certainty of the cogito, that is, the conviction that since I think, I can at least be assured that I exist a thinking subject. Descartes hoped that from this grounding, further certainties could be established; other philosophers, however, have not been convinced. In Barry Stroud's words, in modern rimes skepticism has come to be understood as the view that we know nothing, or that nothing is certain, or that everything is open to doubt. (7) stance toward its two principal concerns--what we know of the external world and what we know of other minds--is susceptible to a range of formulations extending from the flat denial of knowledge (we know nothing) to a more modest caution about truth claims (it is always possible we might be wrong). Since Descartes, philosophy has proved incapable of settling once and for all its dispute over skepticism; Cavell puts it, Philosophy left to itself has been unable to determine whether skepticism is refutable (Descartes, Kant, Moore) or irrefutable (Hume, Wittgenstein) or unworthy of refutation (Husserl, Heidegger, Quine) or self-refuting (Austin, Strawson, Dewey). …