"Le Mur" (The Wall) is included in Sartre's collection of short stories, released under the title "Intimacy" in English (although I think the collection was also called Le Mur in French).
I had heard about this story from a friend doing a French Lit unit, and that apparently it retold lived experiences from Sartre's days in the resistance, and that one of the characters is Camus. Unfortunately the publishing of the story predates the war (and the resistance, it's actually set during the Spanish civil war), and furthermore predates Sartre's introduction to Camus (Camus had reviewed the short stories, an essay which is published in the collection: Lyrical and Critical Essays). However, what was quite delightful when I had heard about it was the connexion between this story, and an essay by Kant "On a supposed right to lie because of philanthropic concerns".
Kant's essay gives a hypothetical dilemma: a murderer is at your door, asking for your friend. You think your friend is at the cinema, so you can either tell the truth, or lie (inaction is not possible). The argument runs like this: if you lie, and say your friend is at the cemetary, and by some strange coincidence the murderer finds him there, then you are morally responsible for the death. If you tell the truth, you are not morally responsible.
Yep, it's pretty dumb (in its condensed form anyway), but without getting into the strengths and weaknesses of Kantian philosophy, Sartre's story is an allegory of this anecdote (is an allegory of a fictional story still an allegory?). In Le Mur, the protagonist, Pablo, is being interrogated about the wherabouts of the rebels' leader - Ramon. When they do finally bring him in (all because Pablo tries to give them the runabout by lying about his whereabouts), Pablo falls to the ground in some ambiguous fit of tears and laughter.
I should revisit this short story collection, I don't remember it to be that memorable. I much prefer Sartre's plays - in his stories, there is something bitter, a smirk at the human condition, which I can't help but feel is a result of Sartre's dissatisfaction at being ugly... (i'm only being half facetious)... but respect there is always.
