I've only read these books in English translation, so this probably would not work for a French reader looking over the originals.
This being said, here's a thought experiment. Let an educated somewhat philosophically literate English reader who has never heard of Sartre nor Meillassoux read Sartre's Nausea, and then have her read Being and Nothingness and Meillassoux's After Finitude. Do not tell the reader who wrote these books, but do tell her that Nausea was written either by the author of Being and Nothingness or the author of After Finitude. Then ask her which one.
I think that a huge majority of even marginally sophisticated readers of the English text would be absolutely certain that Meillassoux wrote Nausea.
Again, this probably would not hold for the French versions, because it would perhaps be too easy to pick up on facets of the style that are not preserved in English translation. But my God, Meillassoux's hymn to chaos is exactly what Sartre's Antoine should have written once he got out of the sticks, over his failed relationship, and found himself able to use that prolonged existential freakout and genius to write speculative philosophy.
Of course Sartre could not have written After Finitude. Some tragic combination of his own fourfold horrors (occupation, vilification by French Heideggerians, massive benzedrine abuse, and as a result of all of these a confused yet culpable gullibility concerning Soviet marxism) prevented him from writing After Finitude. So in the end we got the execrable The Critique of Dialectical Reason. And with the possible exception of mid-period Heidegger, I can think of no greater self-inflicted waste of genius in the twentieth century.
But Antoine in fact did get his %$#* together! Like Jacques Brel, he is in fact alive and well in Paris. You can listen to the music! You can read the book!
