Biblical References in Texts For Nothing

Finally, a text I can understand that was written by the Samuel Beckett! I understood the references to all of his other works and of giving up and of dying, but most importantly, I understood the Biblical references throughout Texts For Nothing.

One of the bluntest allusions is to Jesus and his time spent in the desert. Satan tempts Jesus to jump off a cliff and prove he is the son of God by surviving. Jesus refuses, quoting the Bible that no one shall test the Lord.

“I tried throwing me off a cliff, collapsing in the street in the midst of mortals, that led nowhere, I gave up. Take the road again that cast me up here, then retrace it, or follow it on, wise advise. That’s so that I’ll never stir again, dribble on here till time is done, murmuring every ten centuries, It’s not me, it’s not true, it’s not me, I’m far” (303).

Here Beckett takes the Biblical story and rewrites it to state the ridiculousness of religion. Beckett also seems to question where God is, because “murmuring every ten centuries” is not much of a presence for an all-powerful ruler.

Beckett references Jesus bluntly a second time in “9.” He retells the story of how Jesus died and rose again because his tomb stone was rolled away and his body had vanished.

“Yes, I’d have a mother, I’d have a tomb, I wouldn’t have come out of here, here are my tomb and mother, it’s all here this evening, I’m dead and getting born, without having ended, helpless to begin, that’s my life” (325).

When Beckett states, “I wouldn’t have come out of here,” he is reminiscing on the absurdity of being born from a virgin and leaving your tomb as a live man.

I really enjoyed reading Texts For Nothing, and I think because I seem to understand some of it, I will change my paper topic and write on this interesting work.

Incessant Babble

Winnie contradicts herself throughout Happy Days, but the one instance of Winnie’s incessant contradictions that struck me as most odd was her assurance of silence to Willie.

Winnie promises quiet after Willie entertains her request of repetition. Winnie keeps bothering Willie to echo what she previously stated, and Willie repeats only the first half of the statement.

WINNIE: … Bless you Willie I do appreciate your goodness I know what an effort it costs you, now you may relax I shall not trouble you again unless I am obliged to, by that I mean unless I come to the end of my own resources which is most unlikely, just to know in theory you can hear me even though in fact you don’t is all I need, just to feel you there within earshot and conceivably on the qui vive is all I ask, … (281).

All I Ask of You -Skrillex

Winnie claims she will leave Willie alone, but while informing him of her future silence, she babbles on to him.

In fact, Winnie continues to assail Willie’s ears with her constant dribble as she swears a second time that he will enjoy some peaceful relaxation.

WINNIE: … And you have done more than your bit already, for the time being, just lie back now and relax, I shall not trouble you again unless I am compelled to, just to know you are there within hearing and conceivably on the semi-alert is…er…paradise enow (284).

Winnie's in Paradise?

Nope.

Winnie obviously comes “to the end of her resources” and is “compelled to” talk to Willie because she continues to do so throughout the remainder of the play.

Winnie has won me over, though, with her positive attitude. She would settle with knowing Willie is present instead of listening to all she has to say. The fact that this request is “all I ask” forces me to adore Winnie and her unique situation.

 

Oh, Krapp!

Krapp’s Last Tape amazes me as we continue to discuss it. The play is relatively short, yet the performance we watched was fifty eight minutes long. Because the reading is short, I troubled over what to blog about, but our exercise on Wednesday helped me.

The first thing that grabbed my attention was how Krapp’s name resembles the English word for shit, or crap. I believe that Beckett did this on purpose, especially when the tape monologues about how the light allows the darkness to accentuate Krapp.

The new light above my table is a great improvement. With all this darkness round me I feel less alone. [Pause.] In a way. [Pause.] I love to get up and move about in it, then back here to [hesitates]…me. [Pause.] Krapp (219).

Because Krapp already names himself in the previous sentence as “me,” so his name at the end sounds exactly like he is saying “crap.” For example: “I love to get up and move about in it, then back here to…me. Oh, crap.” His name at the end remains unnecessary and resembles exasperation as if he was cursing.

An "Oh, Crap! Moment

Beckett writes astonishingly because of his nouns and verbs. In the above excerpt, the strong sentences are “I feel” and “I love.” In class, we practiced this exercise of strong noun-verb sentences, and mine are not quite as sophisticated as everyone else’s in the class, but here they are.

            The floor boards surrender to Krapp’s feet.

            The rain falls in the background of the darkness.

            The desk, chair, spool, and box reflect the age of the old man.

            The memory of her causes him to cry tears of burning fire.

            He slips on the banana peel, curses, then drinks alcohol.

            He bitches about the bitch he once screwed with the moving earth, touching her thighs,

drinking to remember, and drinking to forget.

Father/Son Boundaries Blurred

When first reading Endgame, I couldn’t help comparing Hamm and Clov to the slapstick duo, thing one and thing two, from Waiting for Godot. My opinion changed immediately when we watched the theatrical version of Endgame in class. Gogo and Didi are friends, but Hamm and Clov are like a father and a son. Hamm and Clov are close yet fight often. Hamm is insulting while Clov is subservient. On two occasions does Hamm need to apologize to the man he has raised as a son, and he (un)surprisingly apologizes in a parallel manner (Beckett’s fault: I have come to believe he adores repetition).

The first instance necessitates an apology because Hamm has lost the love of Clov.

HAMM: I’ve made you suffer too much. [Pause.] Haven’t I? CLOV: It’s not that. HAMM: [shocked] I haven’t made you suffer too much? CLOV: Yes! HAMM: [relieved] Ah you gave me a fright. [Pause. Coldly.] Forgive me. [Pause. Louder.] I said, Forgive me. CLOV: I heard you (94).

Hamm punishes Clov too severely; much like a father overprotects his son and severs him from the rest of the world. Hamm appears to be attempting to build character in Clov by making him suffer. This aspect of their relationship also points to one of parent-child.

Overprotective father who literally snarls at danger.

The second instance necessitates an apology because Hamm ridicules Clov for his extracurricular activity of staring at a wall.

HAMM: Your light dying! Listen to that! Well, it can die just as well here, your light. Take a look at me and then come back and tell me what you think of your light. [Pause.] CLOV: You shouldn’t speak to me like that. [Pause.] HAMM: [coldly] Forgive me. [Pause. Louder.] I said, Forgive me. CLOV: I heard you (98).

Hamm always seems to have a larger complaint than anyone else, including poor Clov; but this instance of ridicule only reminded me of parents saying, “back in my day we…” Hamm criticizes Clov because he is older and Clov allows his incessant nagging (which is strange to me because Hamm’s father is named Nagg).

Also, in each instance of apologetic interaction, Clov never forgives Hamm; he only acknowledges that Hamm apologized. To me, the short response, “I heard you,” represents the inner feelings of an angsty teenager. Clov may not be Hamm’s biological son, and Hamm may not have raised Clov extraordinarily, but they are tied together in a bond that can only be described as a father and a son.

 

Thing 1 and Thing 2

In class, we discussed how Waiting for Godot arguably concerns alienation, but I believe that Gogo and Didi are just too intertwined to be alienated. They constantly play off each other’s own words in a form that seems to be unbelievably slapstick. In my opinion, they even sometimes appear to be the same character, and I mix them up throughout the entire play.

For example, on the first couple pages of the tragicomedy Gogo and Didi share the same phrases.

ESTRAGON: [feebly] Help me! VLADIMIR: It hurts? ESTRAGON: [angrily] Hurts! He wants to know if it hurts! VLADIMIR: [angrily] No one ever suffers but you. I don’t count. I’d like to hear what you’d say if you had what I have. ESTRAGON: It hurts? VLADIMIR: [angrily] Hurts! He wants to know if it hurts! (4)

Nothing to be done, eh? It hurts, eh?

Their comedy appears to be slapstick as they fire the same lines quickly at one another. They also seem very sarcastic and vague, which adds to the comedy because of the phrase repetition. Gogo and Didi also share the same emotion. They present their lines “[angrily]” at one another, and their anger remains similar throughout the lines because they are indeed the same lines.

This instance of anger is not the only instance as Gogo and Didi build off each other’s phrases and emotions in Act II.

VLADIMIR & ESTRAGON: [turning simultaneously] Do you – VLADIMIR: Oh pardon! ESTRAGON: Carry on. VLADIMIR: No no, after you. ESTRAGON: No no, you first. VLADIMIR: I interrupted you. ESTRAGON: On the contrary. [They glare at each other angrily.] VLADIMIR: Ceremonious ape! ESTRAGON: Punctilious pig! VLADIMIR: Finish your phrase, I tell you! ESTRAGON: Finish your own! (65)

I typed "punctilious pig" into google images and this showed up. This man literally has his head up his ass. Great insult! Bravo! Jolly good show!

Here Gogo and Didi speak “…angrily]” at one another. In this instance, they try to be out of sync but in fact remain in sync because of the structure of their phrases. For example, with their insults, they each name an adjective then a noun: “Ceremonious ape!” and “Punctilious pig!” This “shift” of sync only occurrs because they were so in sync in the first place. They both spoke the same phrase at the beginning, “Do you.” They even perform the same movement, “[turning simultaneously].” They want each other to finish the phrase they both started in order to fire more of the same lines at one another: “Finish your phrase, I tell you!” and “Finish your own!”

Estragon and Vladimir must be twins or some freak of nature, because I know I certainly cannot tell them apart.

 

The Unnamable, The Jarhead

In the beginning of The Unnamable, there are small hints that the narrator is a head in a jar. First, the unnamable states his immobility: “No, once and for all, I do not move” (286). Then, the unnamable describes his own personal process of crying: “The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? From time to time. There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain” (287). The reason his tears remind him of “liquefied brain” is because his head is in a jar of liquid; so, his “unblinking eyes” yield the “liquefied brain” because the juices from the preservative liquid and the juices from his brain matter are mixing. Another aspect of the unnamable’s eyes is their immobility: “In a sense I would be better off at the circumference, since my eyes are always fixed in the same direction. But I am certainly not at the circumference” (289). The unnamable resides on a restaurant counter, so he is “not at the circumference” and because his head is in a jar, his “eyes are always fixed in the same direction.”

The unnamable elaborates on these aspects of his “special situation” on page 291:

“I may add that my seat would appear to be somewhat elevated, in relation to the surrounding ground, if ground is what it is. Perhaps it is water or some other liquid. With the result that, in order to obtain the optimum view of what takes place in front of me, I should have to lower my eyes a little. But I lower my eyes no more. In a word, I only see what appears immediately in front of me, I only see what appears close beside me, what I best see I see ill.”

The unnamable has established that he is on an “elevated” counter top, that he is surrounded by “liquid,” and that his eyes never move – “I only see what appears immediately in front of me.” The unnamable is a head in a jar full of liquid on a counter in a restaurant. Oh, Beckett, oh unnamable.

Restaurant Counter

Negative Nancy Malone

The Negative Nancy

 

Malone differs from Molloy in his attitude towards people. Molloy and Malone both deal with death; Molloy loses his mother while Malone is losing himself. Because Malone nears death while Molloy observes it, Malone develops a negative view of everyone.

Directly on the second page, Malone addresses, well, everyone in his life. “Let me say before I go any further that I forgive nobody. I wish them all an atrocious life and then the fires and ice of hell and in the execrable generations to come an honoured name” (174). So basically, Malone curses everyone involved in his life, but blesses their children. Malone is indeed a queer character, telling himself made-up stories before he kicks the bucket.

One of said stories contains a man and a woman. He is equally annoyed with them as he is with his nurse, the noise of the hospital, etc. “And I shall begin, that they may plague me no more, with the man and woman” (176). The man and woman do not exist; they are Malone’s own fictional characters. This fact is crucial because his annoyance becomes strange and unnecessary.

A Man and a Woman

Malone also holds others, real people this time, in contempt. In his hospital bed, he is able to prop himself against the window-pane and look into one room of a house. “I can see into a room of the house across the way. Queer things go on there sometimes, people are queer. Perhaps these are abnormal” (178). Malone does not even bother to say, “Perhaps these [people] are abnormal.” They remain blank objects, queer and abnormal, which Malone himself is.

I typed in "queer" on youtube and found this?