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