Sartre was a remarkably prolific writer, having authored over 600 works, and in a wide variety of genres. It would be impossible to discuss all of them in this short book. However, as a guide to further reading, I offer the following list of what I take to be his 50 most interesting and/or important works. I will provide bibliographical information for each work on my list, as well as a few remarks on its content. These annotations will also allow me to expand on some of the issues discussed in earlier chapters, and to introduce briefly a few others not treated there.
1. Imagination (1936), trans. Kenneth Williford and David Rudrauf (New York: Routledge, 2012). There is also a translation by Forrest Williams (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1972).
This was Sartreâs first book. It is mostly devoted to criticism of several prominent modern philosophical and psychological theories of the imagination. Of greatest interest is the bookâs concluding section, in which he offers a sympathetic account of Edmund Husserlâs phenomenological approach to the topic.
2. The Transcendence of the Ego (1937), trans. Forrest Williams and Robert Kirkpatrick (New York: Hill and Wang, 1991). There is also a translation by Andrew Brown (New York: Routledge, 2004).
It was in this work that Sartre presented his argument, discussed at length in Chapter Three above, that there is no pre-existing ego or âselfâ inhabiting or underlying consciousness. He claimed that the ego is not a substance, directing consciousness, but rather a construct, an object for consciousness, that consciousness brings into being by selectively synthesizing several of its own reflective acts.
3. âThe Wallâ (1937), in The Wall and Other Stories, trans. Lloyd Alexander (New York: New Directions, 1975).
This was the first short story that Sartre published as an adult. It received rapturous reviews upon publication and helped to establish Sartre as a major writer. It has taken on the status of a classic in the short story genre, having been reprinted in countless anthologies, and made into a movie in 1967.
Written in response to the Spanish Civil War, it is a tense, suspenseful, atmospheric account of the experiences of a prisoner of war during what he believes to be his final night of life before being executed in the morning.
4. Nausea (1938), trans. Robert Baldick (Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England: Penguin, 2000). There is also a translation by Lloyd Alexander (New York: New Directions, 2013).
This was Sartreâs first novel. Published right on the heels of âThe Wall,â its reception cemented Sartreâs literary reputation and established that his mastery extended to long-form fiction. Some of the ideas it presents are discussed in Chapter Three.
One additional theme not addressed above is the difference between life and art. Life, as it is lived, is messy, and full of superfluous, irrelevant detail. If something interesting happened to you while you were walking down a street today, an account of that event that failed to discriminate between what was relevant to it, and interesting and important, and what was not, would go on forever, and the experience of hearing or reading such an account would be intolerably boring. Suppose that the point of interest in your experience while walking down the street was the fact that you bumped into an old friend who lives overseas, and who you have not seen in thirty years. Such facts as that you were wearing brown shoes at the time, that the laces of each shoe were 27 inches long, that you had taken 19 steps on Boylston Street when you first spotted your friend, that you were feeling slightly thirsty at the time, and so on forever, would be utterly irrelevant to the story, and, in part for that reason, uninteresting. If you are a good storyteller, or even merely a minimally competent one, you will leave these details out when you tell others about this reunion. Similarly, fictional stories, that is, literary works of art, are ruthlessly selective in what they include and what they leave out. They do not ramble on pointlessly, but rather stick to what is essential and necessary to their artistic purpose. Stories and plays, and, for that matter, pieces of music, have a logic and structure to them that is lacking in life as it is lived. Stories and songs typically have clear beginnings and endings. Life does not. It just keeps on going. Observing this, Roquentin, the novelâs protagonist, remarks in his diary, âI wanted moments of my life to follow one another in an orderly fashion like those of a life remembered. You might as well try to catch time by the tail.â (N, 63)
In Nausea, the work of art that is discussed extensively in this context is a song, âSome of These Days.â Every note of its melody is necessary and essential. To change even one note would alter, and diminish, the tune. Moreover, the melody is indestructible, for it is distinguishable from any performance of it, or recording of it, or written representation of it in sheet music. It is untouched by the scratchy imperfections of the one particular copy of one recording that Roquentin hears (a good listener is able, in his or her auditory experience, to push such noise into the background so as to focus solely on the âsignal,â that is the music). Thus, art is capable of achieving a kind of perfection, timelessness, purity, and precision that no human life could ever hope to match. Accordingly, at the end of Nausea, Roquentin ponders the idea that he might be able to justify, and find meaning in, his otherwise seemingly pointless existence by creating art. So he resolves to write a novel.
There is some evidence that Sartre, at the time when he wrote Nausea, shared Roquentinâs vision of the creation of art as a means to personal salvation. If so, he definitely abandoned it later on in favor of the view that writing was more about a free exchange of ideas among writers and readers, and about their joining together in a project of attempting to disclose truths about the world, and to bring about, on the basis of such knowledge, needed social, political, and economic changes. Commenting in a 1964 interview on how much his views had changed since the time of Nausea, he remarked, âwhat I lacked [then] was a sense of reality. I have changed since. I have slowly learned to experience reality. I have seen children dying of hunger. Over against a dying child Nausea cannot act as a counterweight.â (LBSM, 62)
5. âThe Childhood of a Leaderâ (1939), in The Wall and Other Stories.
This story recounts the adventures of a confused and insecure young man who, in an attempt to win the respect of others and to gain for himself a sense of his own identity, attempts to âbeâ a fascist and anti-Semite. This well-constructed and entertaining story introduces several themes that Sartre would develop in greater detail in later, nonfiction, works. These include, most prominently, bad faith (Being and Nothingness), anti-Semitism (Anti-Semite and Jew), and the psychology of the fascist mentality (several political writings).
6. Sketch for a Theory of the Emotions (1939), trans. Philip Mairet (New York: Routledge, 2014). It has also been translated by Bernard Frechtman as The Emotions: Outline of a Theory (New York: The Wisdom Library, 1948).
In this short book, Sartre offered a phenomenological account of emotional experience. He attempted to show that the popular conception of emotion as a state, something that we have and passively endure, is wrong. Emotions are more accurately characterized as modes of awareness of the world. They are neither projections in consciousness of disturbances in the body nor involuntary, reflex, reactions to external stimuli, but rather intentional conscious actsâprereflective responses to meanings (for example, âthreatening,â âhorrible,â or âwonderfulâ) encountered in experience.
7. âA Fundamental Idea of Husserlâs Phenomenology: Intentionality,â in Critical Essays, trans. Chris Turner (New York: Seagull Books, 2017). It is also available in We Have Only This Life to Live: The Selected Essays of Jean-Paul Sartre 1939-1975, ed. Ronald Aronson and Adrian van den Hoven (New York: New York Review Books, 2013).
This short essay helped to introduce Husserlâs phenomenology to a French audience. In it, Sartre defended the idea, discussed in Chapter Three, that consciousness is not a thing, a container that takes ideas into itself, but rather an activity of reaching out toward and focusing on external objects. Sartre gave to this seemingly dry and technical thesis a highly dramatic treatment, and suggested that it entails consequences of enormous importance.
8. âMonsieur François Mauriac and Freedomâ (1939), in Critical Essays. A different translation, titled âFrançois Mauriac and Freedom,â can be found in Literary and Philosophical Essays, trans. Annette Michelson (New York: Collier Books, 1962).
Aside from lengthy, more general and theoretical works, such as What is Literature?, this is the most famous of Sartreâs many works of literary criticism. It is a bold, audacious piece, in that it attacks a still living, but much older (by twenty years), and much more established, writer, the widely respected Catholic novelist, François Mauriac. (Like Sartre, he would go on to win the Nobel Prize in Literature.) And while Sartre had never been a shrinking violet, afraid of engaging in polemics, the severity of his criticism of Mauriac surprised many of his readers, some of whom also saw it as excessive and unfair.
Sartreâs main criticism of Mauriac was that he (allegedly) treated his characters as pawns, whose sole function was to serve as instruments for the communication of their creatorâs worldview, rather than as free beings. The essay ends with the memorable, oft-quoted line: âGod is not an artist. Neither is Monsieur Mauriac.â (MFMF, 80)
9. War Diaries (written 1939-1940, published posthumously, 1983), trans. Quintin Hoare (Brooklyn, NY: Verso, 2012).
In these diaries, one finds descriptions of Sartreâs day-to-day experiences as a conscripted soldier mixed in with his reactions to the various books he was reading at the time and, most significantly, the initial formulations of many of the philosophical ideas that he would later present in Being and Nothingness.
10. The Imaginary (1940), trans. Jonathan Webber (New York: Routledge, 2010). It has also been translated by Bernard Frechtman as The Psychology of Imagination (New York: Washington Square Press, 1966).
Not to be confused with Imagination, published four years earlier, this is the work in which Sartre presented his own phenomenological account of imagination and of âimaginariesâ (that is, imagined objects). As discussed in Chapter Three above, Sartre analyzes our ability to imagine in terms of our capacity to ânihilate,â or negate, what is given in our perceptual field, and to turn our attention, instead, to what is not currently present in that field. And this capacity, in turn, he regards as evidence of our fundamental freedom.
11. Being and Nothingness (1943), trans. Hazel E. Barnes (New York: Washington Square Press, 1992). There is also a translation by Sarah Richmond (New York: Routledge, 2018).
This dense and massive work, exceeding 700 pages in length, is widely considered to be Sartreâs greatest philosophical work. Its subtitle is âA Phenomenological Essay on Ontology.â Ontology is the study of being, and Being and Nothingness attempts to describe the basic categories of being and their interrelations. It must be emphasized, however, that when Sartre speaks of âbeing,â he is usually not talking about entities or substances, but rather the way in which something exists. So a phrase such as âthe being of consciousnessâ does not refer to the kind of entity consciousness is, but rather to the various modalities of being conscious.
The bookâs most fundamental analytical tool is the distinction between âbeing-in-itselfâ (the mann...