Nausea is basically about a historian who becomes increasingly nauseated by his existence but decides to muddle on. Reading the first half of Nausea feels like that. You just muddle on. The second half does get better and I do like the part about the chestnut tree, but I think Nausea is just one of those you-either-love-it-or-hate-it books and I just don’t love it very much, especially with a line that goes “To think there are idiots who get consolation from the fine arts”(!). I would still recommend the book for the insight it provides on metaphysical enlightenment, something which interests me but remains elusive. Nausea just doesn’t make it seem like a breeze.