Can a person really be faultless? According to Albert Camus, the answer is no, but that is okay.
The Fall is perhaps Camus' most enigmatic novel. It tells the story of Jean-Baptiste Clamence, a judge residing in Amsterdam. He tells his story through a series of monologues directed at a stranger — that is, the reader — starting from a seedy sailor's bar in Amsterdam, called "Mexico City." At first, he is the perfect and blameless character: he was a respected Parisian lawyer, he is a champion of noble causes, and overall, he can be said to be a good man. However, as the novel progresses, his blemishes slowly appear, one by one.
In the end, we see Jean-Baptiste Clamence, a totally different human being, admitting his errors and mistakes, but he argues that he cannot be held culpable for them, because other people are not flawless and without blemish either.
Clocking in just under 150 pages, The Fall is one of the densest novels I have ever read. This is a philosophical novel: the narrative's goal is not to describe a particular sequence of events forming a coherent whole. Rather, its goal is to explore and flesh out a certain philosophy or idea to the reader. In this case, this novel explores the themes of innocence, non-existence, and truth.
One feature that I especially liked was the fact that this novel is written from the perspective of the second person, yet used a first person present tense. In this way, the reader becomes a character in the novel, and Jean-Baptiste Clamence is directly speaking to the reader. I believe that this was rather a neat trick in Camus' part: this way, the reader cannot be an innocent and detached bystander. Instead, the reader is forced into the discussion, and has no choice but to personally reflect on the issues at hand.