sábado, 21 de noviembre de 2009

otro cuento del absurdo diario clarin.espiame.com y las agresiones ortográficas visuales.

Beckett en Buenos Aires
Este fin de semana cierra la tercera edición del Festival Beckett de Buenos Aires. Se realizó simultáneamente en Rosario y Capital Federal y los elencos de actores vinieron de diversos paises cómo Irlanda, Brasil y Chile. Revistaenie.com charló sobre el presente y futuro del festival con su organizador, Patrico Orozco.


Por: Andrés Hax
Fotos Videos PATRICIO OROZCO, el director del festival, cuenta cómo nació su interés por Samuel Beckett.
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COMEDIA. Carla Peterson, Mario Mahler y Esmeralda Mitre en la obra de Samuel Beckett, Comedia, del Festival Beckett Buenos Aires 2006.
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Una vez —lo juro— vi a Samuel Beckett aquí en Buenos Aires. Yo estaba bajando en bicicleta a toda velocidad un domingo por la tarde por la calle Corrientes a la altura del Abasto (antes que el Abasto se convirtiera en shopping pero mucho más tarde de que fuera un mercado). Y allí, parado en una esquina, como esperando para cruzar la calle, lo vi (fue un milisegundo) con su sobretodo gris y sus anteojos de Trotsky y su pelo gris parado. Pero era el invierno de 1996 y Beckett murió en 1989. Igual, juro que lo vi. No a alguien que se parecía a Beckett o un fantasma de Beckett. Vi a Beckett. Tal vez se había escapado del Aleph en la calle Garay para tomar un café por allí, o para caminar las infinitas cuadras de Buenos Aires para estirar sus piernas un rato antes de volver al otro lado.

Cuento esto no solo porque es verdad sino también para ilustrar la devoción que inspira el escritor Irlandés en sus acólitos, dentro de los cuales me cuento. No sé si Patricio Orozco, el joven director del Festival Beckett Buenos Aires ha tenido una visión post-mortem del flaco, melancólico y elegante escritor. Pero tras un encuentro casual con una obra de Beckett en un taller de teatro en el 2004 Orozco se ha dedicado a la obra del irlandés con el fervor de un discípulo. Aparte de dirigir el Festival Beckett Buenos Aires anualmente desde el 2004, ha dedicado sies años a escribir una biografía (aun inédita) sobre el autor irlandés para la cual viajó a París y Londres para entrevistar a miembros del circulo íntimo del escritor y "caminar las mismas calles y tomar en los mismos cafés" que Beckett. Viajó hasta allí con la única intención de ver el mundo a través de sus ojos.

Este fin de semana concluye la edición 2009 del festival y el viernes, sábado y domingo habrá una excelente variedad de obras, tanto en Buenos Aires cómo en Rosario, tanto para los neófitas al mundo dramatúrgico del escueto y melancólico Beckett como para sus amantes incondicionales.

De las obras que se pueden destacar esta Rockaby, un desconcertante monologo, protagonizado por Chunchuña Villafañe que es parte de una trilogía de obras breves dirigida por Cecilia Propato que se puede ver en el Espacio Cultural Pato de Ganso (Pasaje Zelaya 3211. Tel. 4862-0209).

(Para el resto de la programación vayan al sitio del Festival Becket Buenos Aires y para ver partes de la entrevista con Patricio Orozco vean los videos adjuntos a esta nota.)

Charlamos con Orozco una tarde lluviosa y soleada a la vez en un café delante de la Casa del Teatro de la Calle Santa Fe donde estaba ensayando una de las obras del festival.

¿Cómo ha evolucionado el festival en sus tres años? ¿Qué balance hace de la experiencia hasta ahora?

Lo que yo fui viendo a lo largo de los años del festival es que cada vez más jóvenes presentan obras y proyectos. Y lo que sucede interesante es que a la par que los jóvenes presentan sus obras también hay actores que están pegando la vuelta, que empiezan a compartir escenario con los jóvenes. Este año, por ejemplo están Chunchuña Villafañe y Nélida Romero...Y lo que pasa es que esa unión se da en el escenario, pero también fuera del escenario. Cada generación va descubriendo la otra.

En las obras que se presentan en el festival hay modificaciones de los textos de Beckett. Yo tenía entendido que el odiaba cuando le hacían eso. ¿Te preocupa algo este tema?

No, no para nada. El era muy puntilloso cuando lo dirigía otro pero él con sus textos reescribía mucho y si veía en un ensayo que no andaba algo hacía modificaciones. No estaba muy atado a lo que había escrito originalmente. Cuando lo dirigían otros, si era muy estricto. Pero yo creo que los textos resisten los cambios. Hay que tener cuidado y tomarlo caso por caso.

Hablaste de los actores jóvenes. ¿Qué puede aprender un actor joven de actuar Beckett? Ya que la mayoría de sus obras son muy minimalistas, a veces el actor es solamente una voz...

En general los actores siempre te plantean la dificultad de estar más acotados. Pero lo que yo veo es que hay mucha pasión con los textos. Y lo que nosotros hacemos en el festival es sumar nuevas disciplinas, como el danza-teatro. Lo que apareció en esta edición con un elenco chileno fue increíble. Porque allí nos dimos cuenta de cómo cuando un bailarín lee un texto de Beckett ve todo los movimientos que para nosotros son como cíclicos ellos lo ven como una corografía. Toman los movimientos que en el texto se repiten como un mantra y lo resignifican de una manera muy interesante.

La obra de Beckett fue disminuyendo a lo largo de su vida: en la extensión y en los movimientos y palabras de sus personajes. ¿Tiene una teoría acerca de este movimiento hacía la austeridad visual y verbal?

Bueno, yo ahora hace poco terminé de escribir la biografía de él...Yo identifico dos pasos muy claros que dio. Uno, que es muy evidente, es cuando el empezó a escribir en francés. Beckett era un gran memorioso. Te podía decir la Divina Comedia de memoria y Shakespeare lo sabía todo. Entonces para mí —para mi y para un montón de gente— el pasaje al francés es tratar de ser más auténtico, en el sentido de que cuando el escribiera no estuviera a su vez a un autor que el tenía en la cabeza. Que la frase que el describía no le sonara nada conocido. Porque es muy difícil cuando tenés todos esos libros en la cabeza empezar a escribir y no copiar...

Esa es la primera ida hacia una síntesis. Y después hay una anécdota que es muy curiosa. En la segunda guerra mundial él participa en una célula de la resistencia, que se llama Gloria, en Francia. Y la tarea que la hacían era hacer los partes que se escribían en los famosos microfilmes. Y allí no entraban más de treinta palabras, por ejemplo. Entonces su tarea era ser muy sintético y preciso en la elección de palabras para pasar una información que después iba en un tubito para para en París... Y allí, después de este incidente, después de la segunda guerra, uno ve que cambia su prosa. Las frases son muy precisas. Son cortas. Le quedó algo de ese ejercicio en la resistencia.

Hay una aparente dicotomía entre su obra y su vida. En el sentido que su obra es muy parca, los personajes están abatidos... Pero Beckett era una persona muy generosa y expansiva con sus amigos...


Yo no lo veo como una contradicción. El tenía muy buen humor. Era muy dado con el tema del dinero. El le mandaba plata a los amigos diciendo "Ayer soñé que te faltaba guita." Y así. Lo mismo con el Premio Nobel, lo regalo a sus escritores amigos jóvenes para incentivarlos.
Pero yo no veo una dicotomía. El era una persona muy sola, en un punto pero creo que el se planteaba que lo que le pasaba adentro de su cabeza era mucho más interesante de lo que le pasaba afuera. El tenía una casa de fin de semana en las afueras de París, por ejemplo, donde el se retiraba. Y en la casa había una sola silla. Si voz ibas a reunirte estabas vos en la silla, el tirado en la cama – y si había un tercero se quedaba parado. Tiene como ese mundo de soledad, de mirar lo que pasaba. Le gustaba mucho caminar, y caminatas largas.

¿Que de nuevo va a aportar tu biografía comparado con todas las otras que existen?

A mi lo que más me importaba era caminar por las calles donde caminó el, sobre todo. Estuve en Inglaterra en las casas de sus familiares donde se quedaba. Ir a ver los cafés donde iba. Más que nada quería tener un panorama del contexto en cual el se movía. Y después todo esta dentro de su cabeza.

¿Finalmente, que se puede esperar para el festival del año que viene?

El año que viene esperamos traer a Rick Cluchey, el director del San Quentin Drama Workshop, que es un grupo de teatro fundado en la cárcel se San Quentin y dode dirigió Beckett mismo. También queremos traer al fotógrafo John Minihan que hizo mucho de los retratos más famosos de Beckett. La idea también es que el festival se haga siempre en Buenos Aires y una ciudad del interior, simultáneamente y que las producciones del interior se vengan para acá y visa versa. Vamos a ver cómo vamos evolucionando.

















Mensaje de Lucía Folino a revista Ñ:


Andrés Hax, Orozco: son retruchos.

Como yo inicié un blog AMANTE DEL ABSURDO y otro SOBRE BECKETT, ESPERANDO A GODOT, clarin (el más trucho de todos) les presta pantalla de revista enie (Ñ).

Pero, al menos podrían usar un corrector, los párrafos mal construidos y las faltas de ortografía son escandalosas.

Muchachos, Beckett fue discípulo de Joyce.
Ustedes no pueden jugar el papel de estudiosos ni en figuritas.

Te podía decir (hay una palabra que es recitar que se aplica a este caso concreto) la Divina Comedia de memoria y Shakespeare lo sabía toda. Entonces para mi —para mi (este "mí" va acentuado, éste no porque cumple función adjetival de mí) y para un montón de gente— el
pasaje al francés es tratar de ser mas (lleva tilde) auténtico, en el sentido de que cuando el -...- escribiera no estuviera (estuviese) a su vez a un autor que el tenía en la cabeza. Que la frase que el describía no le sonara nada conocido. Porque es muy difícil cuando tenés todos esos libros en la cabeza empezar a escribir y no copiar...



Uf... mejor no sigo. Se supone que es una de las revistas literarias de mayor circulación del país.

Es lo que tiene la Kultura de los que compran títulos por internet.


Segundo comentario:


¿visa versa?

¿y dónde está la gita?

Entiendo. Es una joda para ver cuántos lectores reaccionan. ¿No?

miércoles, 7 de octubre de 2009

frases de S.B.

frases de Samuel Beckett

Loco

Todos nacemos locos, algunos continúan así siempre.



Destino

¿Qué es lo que sé sobre el destino del hombre? Podría decirte más cosas sobre rábanos.


Palabra
--Cada palabra es como una innecesaria mancha en el silencio y en la nada.

--Las palabras es todo lo que tenemos.

--Empleo las palabras que me has enseñado. Si no significan nada, enséñame otras. O deja que me calle.

Tristeza
Nada es más divertido que la infelicidad, te lo aseguro. Sí, sí, es la cosa más cómica del mundo.


Fracaso
Da igual. Prueba otra vez. Fracasa otra vez. Fracasa mejor.



Pereza

No existe pasión más poderosa que la pasión de la pereza.


Aburrimiento
Nuestro tiempo es tan excitante que a las personas sólo puede chocarnos el aburrimiento.


Hábito
Respirar es un hábito. La vida es un hábito o, mejor dicho, una sucesión de hábitos, ya que un individuo es una sucesión de individuos.


Preguntas
¡Ah, las viejas preguntas, las viejas respuestas, no hay nada como ellas!.


Olvido
Hubo momentos en que no sólo me olvidé de mí, sino también de lo que soy.


Animales

No me gustan los animales. Es una cosa extraña, no me gustan los hombres ni me gustan los animales. En cuanto a Dios, él está empezando a disgustarme.


Lágrima
Yo, que no sé nada, sé que mis ojos están abiertos, porque las lágrimas no dejan de caer.


Soledad

Sí, en mi vida, si se puede llamar así, hay tres cosas: la incapacidad de hablar, la imposibilidad de estar en silencio, y la soledad, que es lo mejor que he hecho.

Sol
El sol brilló, al no tener otra alternativa, sobre lo nada nuevo.


Amor
Eso que llaman el amor es el exilio, con una postal del país de vez en cuando.


el sastre y el pantalón.

El cliente: Dios hizo el mundo en seis días, y usted no es capaz de hacerme un pantalón en seis meses.

El sastre: Pero señor, mire el mundo y mire su pantalón.


Memoria

Hay que pensar en ciertas cosas, cosas que te habitan por dentro, o no, mejor sí, hay que pensar en ellas porque si no pensamos en ellas, corremos el riesgo de encontrarlas, una a una, en la memoria.


El mar, el cielo, la montaña, las islas, vinieron a aplastarme en una sístole inmensa, después se apartaron hasta los límites del espacio. Pensé débilmente y sin tristeza en el relato que había intentado articular, relato a imagen de mi vida, quiero decir sin el valor de acabar ni la fuerza de continuar.







Nace: 13 de abril de 1906
Lugar: Dublín, Irlanda
efemérides 13 de abril

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Muere: 22 de diciembre de 1989
Lugar: Paris, Francia
efemérides 22 de diciembre

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Biografía: Poeta, novelista, crítico y destacado dramaturgo irlandés, uno de los representantes más importantes del llamado teatro del absurdo. Samuel Beckett nació en el seno de una familia anglicana de buena posición, de padre William Beckett, aparejador (actual ingeniero civil) y madre May Roe, enfermera. Comenzó su educación en el "Earlsford House School" y en 1919 pasó a la "Portora Royal School". Durante su adolescencia, Samuel Beckett se destacó como un gran deportista y jugador de ajedrez en el "Trinity College", donde estudió francés, italiano e inglés y obtuvo la licenciatura en lenguas romances en 1927 y el doctorado en 1931. Tras un periodo breve en el que dio clases en el "Campbell College", se trasladó a París (Francia), donde aceptó el puesto de lector de inglés en la Escuela Normal Superior de París y trabó amistad con James Joyce. En 1929, Samuel Beckett escribió su primer relato breve "Conjetura" que publicó en la revista literaria "transition" y al siguiente año ganó un premio por su poema "Whoroscope". Durante la década de 1930 viajó por Europa, trabajando en diversos oficios para subsistir y estando en los más variados ambientes, que le sirvieron luego para volcar en sus obras. En 1940, Samuel Beckett se alistó en la Resistencia Francesa tras la ocupación nazi en plena Segunda Guerra Mundial (1939-1945), y trabajó como mensajero, y en varias ocasiones, a lo largo de los dos años siguientes, estuvo a punto de ser apresado por la Gestapo. Finalizada la guerra fue reconocido con la "Croix de Guerre" y la "Médaille de la Résistance" por el gobierno francés debido a sus esfuerzos en la lucha contra la ocupación alemana. En 1945, tras un breve paso por Dublín, Samuel Beckett se estableció definitivamente en París, donde produjo entre 1951 y 1953 cuatro grandes obras, la trilogía "Molloy", "Malone muere" y "El innombrable" y la obra de teatro "Esperando a Godot". Tanto en sus novelas como en sus obras, Samuel Beckett centró su atención en la angustia indisociable de la condición humana, con una prosa austera y disciplinada, sazonada de un humor corrosivo y alegrado con el uso de la jerga y el humor fino. En 1969 fue galardonado con el Premio Nobel de Literatura y unos años más tarde, en 1984, recibiría la más alta distinción de la asociación de artistas de Irlanda denominada "Aosdána".

obras destacadas
Esperando a Godot (1952)
Molloy (1951)
Malone muere (1951)
El innombrable (1953)
Whoroscope (1930)
Proust (1931)
Enlaces
Samuel Beckett Premio Nobel Literatura 1969

El arte según Samuel Beckett

el arte según Samuel Beckett (la realidad como raíl)
por Andreu Navarra Ordoño

El texto titulado El mundo y el pantalón (1) parece desarrollar una serie de ideas sobre el arte, y más concretamente, sobre el pictórico (aunque sus contenidos puedan ser aplicados a cualquier otra actividad creativa). Es muy probable que así sea (de otro modo escribiría muy perdido). Podría tratarse de un ensayo, aunque quizás sea mejor calificarlo de prosa, porque el texto no es, desde luego, un ensayo canónico o habitual. Este es el chiste amargo que lo encabeza:

EL CLIENTE: Dios hizo el mundo en seis días, y usted no es capaz de hacerme un pantalón en seis meses.

EL SASTRE: Pero señor, mire el mundo y mire su pantalón.

A continuación, se desarrolla una especie de letanía gélida, absolutamente desconcertante, que no cesará ya hasta el fin:

Para empezar, hablemos de otra cosa, hablemos de dudas antiguas, caídas en el olvido, o reabsorbidas por elecciones que no se ocupan de ellas, por lo que se ha convenido en llamar obras maestras, malas esculturas y obras de mérito.

Dudas de aficionado, claro está, de aficionado muy sabio, tal y como sueñan los pintores, que llega agitando los brazos y se marcha agitando los brazos, con la cabeza aturdida por lo que ha creído entrever. Qué tontería las preocupaciones del ejecutante, al lado de las angustias del aficionado, que nuestra iconografía de tres al cuarto ha cebado de fechas, de períodos, de escuelas, de influencias, y que sabe distinguir, hasta tal punto es sabio, entre un gouache y una acuarela, y que de vez en cuando cree adivinar lo que ama, manteniendo el espíritu abierto. Pues el pobre se imagina que nada de lo que es pintura debe serle extraño.

El lector de Samuel Beckett tendrá que irse acostumbrando a no analizar, a no comprender, a operar entre la nada. Porque leer a Beckett puede ser asomarse a la desnudez más absoluta, indigestarse y dejar el libro a la primera línea, o bien marearse y tener que irse a tomar un analgésico. De cualquier modo, uno siempre resulta enormemente enriquecido al leerle. Es como descalzarse un pie y mojar su punta en un río, en una corriente inexorable, y a la vez fría como el hielo, despiadada. Y esta corriente (luego descubriremos que de cristales rotos) es lo más parecido a la verdad. A la verdad cognoscitiva: a nuestras posibilidades reales de percepción. Esto es lo que nos fascina del autor. Su nivel nulo de fabulación o simpatía. Su honestidad sin ningún tipo de fisura.


Pero es falaz afirmar que es imposible comentarle. Una mentira como un templo. Paradójicamente, y lo demuestra el fragmento que hemos citado, Samuel Beckett es el artista de la claridad, es el escritor de la transparencia. Sus textos son, a la vez, de lo más comprensible. Lo que pasa es que nuestra realidad, nuestra percepción de ella, la de nosotros como lectores de él, nos nubla. Nos obnubila. Molesta. Hemos de partir de cero, como muchos de sus mutilados. Tenemos que atrevernos a mojarnos en su río, y bucear en él como lo haríamos en la conversación que nos brindara un buen amigo, de los que realmente nos complican nuestra vida haciéndola más placentera.

Partir de cero significa, en primer lugar, vaciar la mente de prejuicios; y, en segundo, liberarla del deber de tener que juzgar lo que se ha visto leído, comprendido. Esa es una de las primeras lecciones del fragmento (con la cabeza aturdida de lo que ha creído entrever). El aficionado, a quien se ha intentado aleccionar mediante toda una literatura de la recepción de obras de arte, cree entrever, por lo que nos situamos lejos de cualquier tipo de juicio absoluto. Porque cualquier juicio que pretenda ser coherente, es a la fuerza un absoluto.

Esta es la propuesta de Beckett, no solo en este texto sino en el conjunto de su obra: no tenemos por qué juzgar. No pasa nada. No hay nada. Somos bien poco. Por qué actuar. Por qué explorar. Por qué preguntarse por lo que pasa, por lo que pasó. Lo asombroso es que no se nos esté diciendo debéis hacer esto, o no hacer lo otro. Siempre podremos seguir haciéndolo, seguir preguntándonos, seguir dudando. De lo que se nos informa es de lo que no solemos hacer, de lo que solemos obviar gracias a nuestros prejuicios. Porque la realidad es un prejuicio. Lo prueba el hecho de que nos lo esté diciendo alguien que ha realizado todo esto, ha conducido estas preguntas hasta sus límites, se ha paseado por las fronteras de la nada sin pagar los aranceles que son la muerte, y se ha acercado a la extinción.

Lo asombroso es que no nos lo esté diciendo un nihilista, un analfabeto que desprecie la cultura, sino uno de los hombres más leídos, más profundos, más rabiosamente cultos (así lo demuestra la abundante documentación que se evidencia tras esta prosa). Pero ni siquiera eso sabemos. Podría ser una erudición más o menos ficticia, o multiplicada mediante la palabra, como en el caso de Borges.

Todo esto en arte se traduce en una libertad total: radical y absurda. Cierto profesor de teoría de la literatura, de cuyo nombre sí quiero acordarme, siempre nos decía que el texto original, que la obra absolutamente nueva en todos y cada uno de sus constituyentes, era un imposible filosófico. Y lo es porque ese texto, esa obra, no sería reconocida como tal. La obra radicalmente nueva no se asemeja a nada, no es perceptible en cuanto obra de arte. Es un absurdo. No es ni siquiera una locura. Es una nada inconcebible. No puede existir.

Sam Beckett dice: vale la pena intentarlo. Esto es lo que nos propone: la creación pura, desde la nada. Es una cuestión de perspectiva, y no de resultados. Quizás Huidobro se aproximase a este estado de libertad taumatúrgica, que es la que, en el caso de Gerardo Diego, diferencia unos poemas de otros. El ciprés de Silos parte del ciprés de Silos. Gesta debe de partir de las proximidades de la nada conceptual, objetiva o exterior. Eso no significa que ambos poemas partan, según palabras del propio Diego, de su real gana poética. La diferencia entre un tipo de poemas y otro es meramente procedimental. Uno tiene referentes reales. El otro, no tanto.

Según Isaac Asimov (2), una entre las muchas teorías que intentan explicar el origen del universo es la del chorro primitivo. Consiste en una especie de explosión primitiva de energía de la que derivaría todo. La ordenación de toda esa energía desprendida es lo que diferenciaría el universo de la nada. Así se forma el arte según Beckett: a través de una manifestación arbitraria, fruto de la libre voluntad del artista. Así se crean nuevos universos, nuevas realidades.

Los críticos coinciden en señalar que los textos del autor posteriores a la segunda guerra mundial, si antes de ella indagaban en las contradicciones de la realidad, ya no pretenden vincularse con ella. Los personajes de Molloy, Malone muere o El Innombrable ya no se proponen entender ninguna realidad, por difusa que sea: han renunciado ella. No se proponen nada.

Un buen ejemplo de esto es Malone, suerte de anciano que vive recluido en lo que parece una habitación: sin recibir visita alguna. Malone no intenta recordar ya cómo llegó a la cama en la que convalece, se acerca al mundo a través de un bastón sin el cual se ve absolutamente indefenso. Como se ve, el autor es especialmente cruel con sus personajes. Para entretenerse, Malone intenta contarse una historia, la del joven Saposcat, pero fracasará una vez tras otra: Malone no soporta los tópicos de las historias de personas indefensas. La vida de Saposcat, Sapo, es un infierno. Malone no cree que la suya lo sea: todo le da igual. Se limpia con babas los puntos del cuerpo que nota sucias. Espía las nauseabundas relaciones sexuales de algún vecino (el sexo en Beckett aparece a menudo vinculado a la senectud). Hacia el final de la novela, que no es más que la suma de verbalizaciones mentales de Malone, vemos a este recluido en una suerte de manicomio u hospital. Durante una excursión, alguien llamado Lemuel asesina a todos sus compañeros con un hacha. Esto es lo último que se profiere en la novela:

ni con su lápiz ni con su bastón ni
ni luces luces quiero decir
nunca eso es tocará nunca
nunca tocará
eso es nunca
eso es eso es
nada



¿Quién es Malone? ¿Dónde ha estado durante toda la novela? ¿Quién es Lemuel? ¿Por qué comete el vil asesinato? ¿Se ha convertido Malone en Lemuel, o Lemuel en Malone? ¿Alguien se ha convertido en alguien? ¿Quiénes han muerto? ¿Qué significa eso es nada? ¿Muere Malone como vaticinaba en las primeras palabras de la novela? ¿Es Malone muere una novela? No parece haber respuestas. ¿Deben preocuparnos estas cuestiones?

Según Félix de Azúa, Beckett no busca una aproximación más o menos verosímil a la realidad sino la creación de una realidad independiente, una realidad literaria. Giacometti quería hacer un rostro, El Rostro, Beckett también quiere hacer, no imitar. Por eso todas sus obras son una sola obra y los géneros uno. (3)

¿No se parece este final de novela al del poema Altazor, de Vicente Huidobro ¿No intentan ambas obras alcanzar el mismo objetivo?

Hasta el siglo XX el arte partió de las cosas, quiso traducirlas a lenguajes distintos. El cubismo, el arte fauve,... hacía eso mismo pero pretendiendo acentuar el filtro que separaba el objeto del lienzo. Así el artista hacía de mediador descarado, más descarado que nunca, y aplicaba sus colores, su multiplicidad de perspectivas simultáneas, sus pruritos, sus visiones, sus abstracciones y, ¿por qué no?, sus voluntarias tonterías y puerilidades. Por eso el arte más contemporáneo expulsa a sus espectadores. Por eso los artistas más aplaudidos, más cotizados, más revolucionarios (pienso en Miró o en Tàpies) sean a la vez los más incomprendidos.

La pintura de los hermanos van Velde, los que Sam Beckett pone como ejemplos, (¿pintores ficticios?) no es ni abstracta, ni surrealista, ni cubista. No se preocupa de ser algo. Solo se preocupa de ser la nada, de plasmarla. Uno de estos dos hermanos no ha expuesto nunca. El otro realizó una exposición en Londres, en 1938.

La prosa es, en cierta forma, una aproximación a la obra de estos dos artistas, que practican algo más desquiciado que el automatismo: lo que hay en sus cerebros una vez vaciados de todo posible contenido. Por eso, dice Beckett, la pintura de uno de los hermanos es tan placentera. Porque libera, es una libertad que se aproxima al trance místico, la nada a ultranza, el garabato más insignificante, la más oculta y primordial de las pinceladas, mucho más cavernícola que la de los cavernícolas.

Una verdad no causal. Una arbitrariedad extrema, exenta de preocupaciones y de vinculaciones con el mundo exterior. Es la realidad autónoma, autosuficiente. Y por eso es, en cierto modo, relajante.

Estas concepciones son las que laten tras la obra de Samuel Beckett. ¿Qué hay detrás de ellas? ¿Qué se pretende? Una vez más nos lo contesta el fragmento citado cuando empezábamos: se trata de creer adivinar lo que se ama, de mantener abierto el espíritu. Porque traducir, comentar, comparar, es realizar la conversión de incomprensible a comprensible. El objetivo no es que esa conversión sea imposible, sino advertir que no es necesario hacerla. Eso no significa que no pueda hacerse, como la estoy haciendo yo. Eso significa que no pasa nada si no se hace: que somos libres de hacer lo que nos plazca con la obra. Podemos insultarla, olvidarla, calumniarla. Nada ni nadie debería exigirnos explicaciones. Otra cosa es lo que ocurra en nuestra sociedad. El juicio, la obligación de emitir enunciados exteriores que versen sobre tareas de los demás, es lo que arruina para Beckett el pensamiento humano. Lo que ha venido arruinándolo durante siglos de masoquismo conceptual.

Las frases siguientes ilustran la voluntad de libertad mental y receptiva, de libertad honrada. Son una crítica total al deber más o menos socializado de que el arte signifique, de que tenga que expresar, de que tenga que comprometerse con nuestro mundo habitual (el extracto reproduce estrictamente el orden del autor):

Eso llueve sobre los medios artísticos con una abundancia muy particular. Es una pena. Pues el arte no parece necesitar cataclismos para poder ejercerse.

Los estragos son ya considerables.

Con "Esto no es humano", está dicho todo. A la basura.

El día de mañana se le exigirá a la charcutería que sea humana.
Eso no es nada. Por lo menos estamos acostumbrados.

Lo que es propiamente espantoso es que el artista mismo lo admita.

El poeta que dice: no soy un hombre, no soy más que un poeta. El medio más rápido de hacer rimar amor y vacaciones pagadas.

El arte expresivo, tanto el formal como el informal, es un arte policial por lo que tiene de represor de la creatividad:

¿Quieren un existente adecuado? Pónganle un azul. Denle un silbato.

¿Les interesa el espacio? Hagamos que cruja.

¿Les atormenta el tiempo? Matémosle juntos.

¿La belleza? El hombre reunido.

¿La bondad? Extinguir.

¿La verdad? La ventosidad del mayor número.


Y el que modestamente nos parece uno de las más bellos pasajes formulables por un ser humano:

Se ha hecho lo imposible para que elija. Para que tome partido, para que acepte a priori, para que rechace a priori, para que deje de mirar, para que deje de existir, delante de una cosa que simplemente habría podido amar, o encontrar fea, sin saber por qué.

¿Puede existir amor al arte más sincero que el contenido en esta frase? ¿Puede aspirarse a mayor libertad? El verdadero arte, la verdadera escritura de Samuel Beckett se sitúan en otra realidad, la que resultó de la experiencia de la nada circundante, la realidad más verdadera que vive en el lenguaje, y que se alimenta de materia gris.

__________________

Notas:

(1) BECKETT, Samuel, Manchas en el silencio, Tusquets, Barcelona, 1990, págs. 25-52 (traducción de Jenaro Talens.)
(2) ASIMOV, Isaac, Cien preguntas básicas sobre la ciencia, Alianza, 1973.
(3) BECKETT, Samuel, Residua, Tusquets, Barcelona, 1969 (prólogo de Félix de Azúa).

viernes, 2 de octubre de 2009

Waiting for Godot

Waiting for Godot
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Waiting for Godot

1st English edition (Grove Press) translated by the author
Written by Samuel Beckett


Characters Vladimir
Estragon
Pozzo
Lucky

The Boys
Mute Godot

Date premiered 5 January 1953 (1953-01-05)
Place premiered Théâtre de Babylone, Paris



Waiting for Godot (pronounced /godoot/) is a play by Samuel Beckett, in which two characters, Vladimir and Estragon, wait for someone named Godot. Godot's absence, as well as numerous other aspects of the play, have led to many different interpretations since the play's premiere.

Voted "the most significant English language play of the 20th century"[1], Waiting for Godot is Beckett's translation of his own original French version, En attendant Godot, and is subtitled (in English only) "a tragicomedy in two acts".[2]

The original French text was composed between 9 October 1948, and 29 January 1949.[3] The première was on 5 January 1953 in the Théâtre de Babylone. The production was directed by Roger Blin, who also played the role of Pozzo.

Contents
1 Plot synopsis
1.1 Act I
1.2 Act II
2 Characters
2.1 Vladimir and Estragon
2.2 Pozzo and Lucky
2.3 The Boys
2.4 Godot
3 Setting
4 Interpretations
4.1 Samuel Beckett
4.2 Political interpretations
4.3 Freudian interpretations
4.4 Jungian interpretations
4.5 Existentialist interpretations
4.6 Biblical interpretations
4.7 Autobiographical interpretations
4.8 Homoerotic interpretations
4.9 Interpretations from compassion
4.10 Beckett's objection to female actors
5 History
6 Related works
7 Works inspired by Godot
8 References
9 External links


Plot synopsis
Act I
Waiting for Godot follows two days in the lives of a pair of men who divert themselves while they wait expectantly and unsuccessfully for someone named Godot to arrive. They claim him as an acquaintance but in fact hardly know him, admitting that they would not recognise him were they to see him. To occupy themselves, they eat, sleep, converse, argue, sing, play games, exercise, swap hats, and contemplate suicide — anything "to hold the terrible silence at bay".[4]

The play opens with the character Estragon struggling to remove his boot from his foot. Estragon eventually gives up, muttering, "Nothing to be done." His friend Vladimir takes up the thought and muses on it, the implication being that nothing is a thing that has to be done and this pair is going to have to spend the rest of the play doing it.[5] When Estragon finally succeeds in removing his boot, he looks and feels inside but finds nothing. Just prior to this, Vladimir peers into his hat. The motif recurs throughout the play.

The pair discuss repentance, particularly in relation to the two thieves crucified alongside Jesus, and that only one of the Four Evangelists mentions that one of them was saved. This is the first of numerous Biblical references in the play, which may be linked to its putative central theme of the search for and reconciliation with God, as well as salvation: "We're saved!" they cry on more than one occasion when they feel that Godot may be near.


Presently, Vladimir expresses his frustration with Estragon's limited conversational skills: "Come on, Gogo, return the ball, can't you, once in a while?". Estragon struggles in this regard throughout the play, and Vladimir generally takes the lead in their dialogue and encounters with others. Vladimir is at times hostile towards his companion, but in general they are close, frequently embracing and supporting one another.

Estragon peers out into the audience and comments on the bleakness of his surroundings. He wants to depart but is told that they cannot because they must wait for Godot. The pair cannot agree, however, on whether or not they are in the right place or that this is the arranged day for their meeting with Godot; indeed, they are not even sure what day it is. Throughout the play, experienced time is attenuated, fractured or eerily non-existent.[6] The only thing that they are fairly sure about is that they are to meet at a tree: there is one nearby.

Estragon dozes off, but Vladimir is not interested in hearing about his dream after rousing him. Estragon wants to hear an old joke about a brothel, which Vladimir starts but cannot finish, as he is suddenly compelled to rush off and urinate. He does not finish the story when he returns, asking Estragon instead what else they might do to pass the time. Estragon suggests that they hang themselves, but they quickly abandon the idea when it seems that they might not both die: this would leave one of them alone, an intolerable notion. They decide to do nothing: "It's safer," explains Estragon,[7] before asking what Godot is going to do for them when he arrives. For once it is Vladimir who struggles to remember: "Oh ... nothing very definite," is the best that he can manage.[7]

When Estragon declares that he is hungry, Vladimir provides a carrot, most of which, and without much relish, the former eats. The diversion ends as it began, Estragon announcing that they still have nothing to do.

Their waiting is interrupted by the passing through of Pozzo and his heavily-laden slave Lucky. "A terrible cry"[8] from the wings heralds the initial entrance of Lucky, who has a rope tied around his neck. He crosses half the stage before his master appears holding the other end. Pozzo barks orders at his slave and frequently calls him a "pig", but is civil towards the other two. They mistake him at first for Godot and clearly do not recognise him for the self-proclaimed personage he is. This irks him, but, while maintaining that the land that they are on is his, he acknowledges that "[t]he road is free to all".[9]

Deciding to rest for a while, Pozzo enjoys a pre-packed meal of chicken and wine. Finished, he casts the bones aside, and Estragon jumps at the chance to ask for them, much to Vladimir's embarrassment, but is told that they belong to the carrier. He must first, therefore, ask Lucky if he wants them. Estragon tries, but Lucky only hangs his head, refusing to answer. Taking this as a "no", Estragon claims the bones.

Vladimir takes Pozzo to task regarding his mistreatment of his slave, but his protestations are ignored. When the original pairing tries to find out why Lucky does not put down his load (at least not unless his master is prevailing on him to do something else), Pozzo explains that Lucky is attempting to mollify him to prevent him from selling him. At this, Lucky begins to cry. Pozzo provides a handkerchief, but, when Estragon tries to wipe his tears away, Lucky kicks him in the shins.

Before he leaves, Pozzo asks if he can do anything for the pair in exchange for the consort that they have accorded him. Estragon tries to ask for some money, but Vladimir cuts him short, explaining that they are not beggars. They nevertheless accept an offer to have Lucky dance and think.

The dance is clumsy and shuffling, and everyone is disappointed. Lucky's "think", induced by Vladimir's putting his hat on his head, is a lengthy and disjointed verbal stream of consciousness.[10] The soliloquy begins relatively coherently but quickly dissolves into logorrhoea and only ends when Vladimir rips off Lucky's hat.

The soliloquy is full of classical references, as well as words that are distorted versions of ordinary words, slang and vulgar speech — "Belcher" as "belch", "Fartov" as "fart", "Testew" as "testes", "Cunard" as the French 'conard' ('idiot' or 'prat'), "possy" as "pussy" and "Feckham" as "fuck him". Most of these words, although crude, describe normal human functions, which in some ways bring the discourse "down to earth".[citation needed] They also, however, represent or indicate a disordered and disintegrating mind, one perhaps disturbed by too much waiting.

Some other unusual words include "apathia", which is synonymous with "apathy"; "aphasia", the loss of ability to understand or to express speech owing to brain damage; and "athambia", the meaning of which has been subject to debate, but which may be broadly interpreted, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, as "imperturbability". The implication may be that God is unfeeling, unseeing and inattentive.[11] Also repeated is the word "quaquaqua", which may simply be meaningless sound, but which is similar to "quaquaversal", which means "pointing in every direction", appropriate to Lucky's roundabout discourse.

Broadly speaking, Lucky's speech falls into four gambits: "the first describes an impersonal and callous God, the second asserts that man 'wastes and pines', the third mourns an inhospitable earth and the last attempts to draw the threads of the speech together by claiming that man diminishes in a world that does not nurture him."[12] It may be summarised as follows:

[A]cknowledging the existence of a personal God, one who exists outside time and who loves us dearly and who suffers with those who are plunged into torment, it is established beyond all doubt that man for reasons unknown, has left his labours, abandoned, unfinished.[13]

Once Lucky has been revived, Pozzo has him pack up his things and, together, they leave. At the end of the act (and its successor), a boy arrives, purporting to be a messenger sent from Godot, to advise the pair that he will not be coming that "evening but surely tomorrow."[14] During Vladimir's interrogation of the boy, he asks if he came the day before, making it apparent that the two men have been waiting for an indefinite period and will likely continue to wait ad infinitum. After the boy departs, they decide to leave but make no attempt to do so, an action repeated in Act II, as the curtain is drawn.

[edit] Act II
Act II opens with Vladimir singing a recursive round about a dog which serves to illustrate the cyclical nature of the play’s universe, and also points toward the play's debt to the carnivalesque, music hall traditions, and vaudeville comedy (this is only one of a number of canine references and allusions in the play). There is a bit of realisation on Vladimir's part that the world they are trapped in evinces convoluted progression (or lack thereof) of time. He begins to see that although there is notional evidence of linear progression, basically he is living the same day over and over. Eugene Webb writes of Vladimir's song that [15] “Time in the song is not a linear sequence, but an endlessly reiterated moment, the content of which is only one eternal event: death.”[16]

Once again Estragon maintains he spent the night in a ditch and was beaten – by “ten of them”[17] this time – though once again he shows no sign of injury. Vladimir tries to talk to him about what appears to be a seasonal change in the tree and the proceedings of the day before, but he has only a vague recollection. Vladimir tries to get Estragon to remember Pozzo and Lucky but all he can call to mind are the bones and getting kicked. Vladimir realises here an opportunity to produce tangible evidence of the previous day's events. With some difficulty he gets Estragon to show him his leg. There is a wound which is beginning to fester. It is then Vladimir notices that Estragon is not wearing any boots.

He discovers the pair of boots, which Estragon insists are not his. Nevertheless, when he tries them on they fit. There being no carrots left, Vladimir offers Estragon the choice between a turnip and a radish. He opts for the radish but it is black and he hands it back. He decides to try and sleep again and adopts the same fetal position as the previous day. Vladimir sings him a lullaby.

Vladimir notices Lucky’s hat, and he decides to try it on. This leads to a frenetic hat swapping scene. They play at imitating Pozzo and Lucky, but Estragon can barely remember having met them and simply does what Vladimir asks. They fire insults at each other and then make up. After that, they attempt some physical jerks which don’t work out well, and even attempt a single yoga position, which fails miserably.

Pozzo and Lucky then arrive, with Pozzo now blind and insisting that Lucky is dumb. The rope is now much shorter and Lucky – who has acquired a new hat – leads Pozzo, rather than being driven by him. Pozzo has lost all notion of time, and assures them he cannot remember meeting them the day before, and that he does not expect to remember the current day’s events when they are over.

They fall in a heap at one point. Estragon sees an opportunity to extort more food or to exact revenge on Lucky for kicking him. The issue is debated at length. Pozzo offers them money but Vladimir sees more worth in their entertainment value since they are compelled to wait to see if Godot arrives anyway. Eventually though, they all find their way onto their feet.

Whereas the Pozzo in Act I is a windbag, since he has become blind he appears to have gained some insight. His parting words – which Vladimir expands upon later – eloquently encapsulate the brevity of human existence: “They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it’s night once more.”[18]

Lucky and Pozzo depart. The same boy returns to inform them not to expect Godot today, but he would arrive the next day. The two again consider suicide but their rope, Estragon’s belt, breaks in two when they tug on it. Estragon's trousers fall down, but he doesn’t notice till Vladimir tells him to pull them up. They resolve to bring a more suitable piece and hang themselves the next day, if Godot fails to arrive.

Again, they agree to leave but neither of them makes any move to go.

Characters
Beckett refrained from elaborating on the characters beyond what he had written in the play. He once recalled them when Sir Ralph Richardson “wanted the low-down on Pozzo, his home address and curriculum vitae, and seemed to make the forthcoming of this and similar information the condition of his condescending to illustrate the part of Vladimir … I told him that all I knew about Pozzo was in the text, that if I had known more I would have put it in the text, and that was true also of the other characters.”[19]
Vladimir and Estragon
When Beckett started writing he did not have a visual image of Vladimir and Estragon. They are never referred to as tramps in the text. Roger Blin advises: “Beckett heard their voices, but he couldn’t describe his characters to me. [He said]: ‘The only thing I’m sure of is that they’re wearing bowlers.’”[20] “The bowler hat was of course de rigueur for male persons in many social contexts when Beckett was growing up in Foxrock (when he first came back with his beret … his mother suggested that he was letting the family down by not wearing a bowler), and [his father] commonly wore one.”[21] There are no physical descriptions of either of the two characters. However, the text indicates that Vladimir is likely the heavier of the pair. They have been together for fifty years but when asked – by Pozzo – they don’t reveal their actual ages. The bowlers and other comic aspects of their personas have reminded modern audiences of Laurel and Hardy, who occasionally played tramps in their films. (Beckett alludes to the team specifically in his novel Watt (1953), when a healthy shrub is described at one point as "a hardy laurel".)

Vladimir stands through most of the play whereas Estragon sits down numerous times and even dozes off. “Estragon is inert and Vladimir restless.”[22] Vladimir looks at the sky and muses on religious or philosophical matters. Estragon “belongs to the stone”,[23] preoccupied with mundane things, what he can get to eat and how to ease his physical aches and pains; he is direct, intuitive. He finds it hard to remember but can recall certain things when prompted, e.g. when Vladimir asks: “Do you remember the Gospels?”[24] Estragon tells him about the coloured maps of the Holy Land and that he planned to honeymoon by the Dead Sea; it is his short-term memory that is poorest and points to the fact that he may, in fact, be suffering from Alzheimer’s disease.[25] Al Alvarez writes. “But perhaps Estragon’s forgetfulness is the cement binding their relationship together. He continually forgets, Vladimir continually reminds him; between them they pass the time.”[26]

Vladimir’s life is not without its discomforts too but he is the more resilient of the pair. “Vladimir's pain is primarily mental anguish, which would thus account for his voluntary exchange of his hat for Lucky's, thus signifying Vladimir's symbolic desire for another person's thoughts.”[27]

Throughout the play the couple refer to each other by pet names, “Didi” and “Gogo” although one of the boys addresses Vladimir as “Mister Albert”. Beckett originally intended to call Estragon, Lévy but when Pozzo questions him he gives his name as “Magrégor, André”[28] and also responds to “Catulle” in French or “Catullus” in the first Faber edition. This became “Adam” in the American edition. Beckett’s only explanation was that he was “fed up with Catullus”.[29]

Vivian Mercier – famous for describing Waiting for Godot as a play which “has achieved a theoretical impossibility—a play in which nothing happens, that yet keeps audiences glued to their seats. What's more, since the second act is a subtly different reprise of the first, he has written a play in which nothing happens, twice." (Irish Times, 18 February 1956, p. 6.)[30] – once questioned Beckett on the language used by the pair: “It seemed to me … he made Didi and Gogo sound as if they had earned Ph.D.’s. ‘How do you know they hadn’t?’ was his reply.”[31] They clearly have known better times, a visit to the Eiffel Tower and grape-harvesting by the Rhône; it is about all either has to say about their pasts. In the first stage production, which Beckett oversaw, both are “more shabby-genteel than ragged … Vladimir at least is capable of being scandalised … on a matter of etiquette when Estragon begs for chicken bones or money.”[32]

[edit] Pozzo and Lucky

Mehdi Bajestani, as Lucky, (from a production by Naqshineh Theatre).Although Beckett refused to be drawn on the backgrounds of the characters this has not stopped actors looking for their own motivation. Jean Martin had a doctor friend called Marthe Gautier, who was working at the Salpêtrièe Hospital, and he said to her: “‘Listen, Marthe, what could I find that would provide some kind of physiological explanation for a voice like the one written in the text?’ [She] said: ‘Well, it might be a good idea if you went to see the people who have Parkinson's disease.’ So I asked her about the disease … She explained how it begins with a trembling, which gets more and more noticeable, until later the patient can no longer speak without the voice shaking. So I said, ‘That sounds exactly what I need.’”[33] “Sam and Roger were not entirely convinced by my interpretation but had no objections.”[34] When he explained to Beckett that he was playing Lucky as if he were suffering from Parkinson’s, Beckett said, “‘Yes, of course.’ He mentioned briefly that his mother had had Parkinson’s, but quickly moved on to another subject.”[35]

“When Beckett was asked why Lucky was so named, he replied, “I suppose he is lucky to have no more expectations…”[36]

Although it has been contended that "Pozzo and Lucky are simply Didi and Gogo writ large"[37] there is a different kind of dynamic at work here. Pozzo may be mistaken for Godot by the two men but, as far as Lucky goes, Pozzo is his Godot, another way in which he is lucky. Their association is not as clear cut as it first seems however for “upon closer inspection, it becomes evident that Lucky always possessed more influence in the relationship, for he danced, and more importantly, thought – not as a service, but in order to fill a vacant need of Pozzo: he committed all of these acts for Pozzo. As such, since the first appearance of the duo, the true slave had always been Pozzo.”[27] Pozzo credits Lucky with having given him all the culture, refinement, and ability to reason that he possesses. His rhetoric has been learned by rote. Pozzo’s ‘party piece’ on the sky is a case in point, as his memory crumbles he finds himself unable to continue under his own steam.

We learn very little about Pozzo besides the fact that he is on his way to the fair to sell his slave, Lucky. He presents himself very much as the Ascendancy landlord, bullying and conceited. His pipe is made by Kapp and Peterson, Dublin’s best-known tobacconists (their slogan was ‘The thinking man’s pipe’) which he refers to as a “briar” but which Estragon calls a “dudeen” emphasising the differences in their social standing. He confesses to a poor memory but it is more a result of an abiding self-absorption. “Pozzo is a character who has to overcompensate. That’s why he overdoes things … and his overcompensation has to do with a deep insecurity in him. These were things Beckett said, psychological terms he used.”[38]

Pozzo controls Lucky by means of an extremely long rope which he jerks and tugs if Lucky is the least bit slow. Lucky is the absolutely subservient slave of Pozzo and he unquestioningly does his every bidding with “dog-like devotion”.[39] He struggles with a heavy suitcase without ever thinking of dropping it. Lucky speaks only once in the play and it is a result of Pozzo's order to “think” for Estragon and Vladimir. Pozzo and Lucky had been together for sixty years and, in that time, their relationship has deteriorated. Lucky has always been the intellectually superior but now, with age, he has become an object of contempt: his “think” is a caricature of intellectual thought and his “dance” is a sorry sight. Despite his horrid treatment at Pozzo's hand however, Lucky remains completely faithful to him. Even in the second act when Pozzo has inexplicably gone blind, and needs to be led by Lucky rather than driving him as he had done before, Lucky remains faithful and has not tried to run away; they are clearly bound together by more than a piece of rope in the same way that Didi and Gogo are “[t]ied to Godot”.[40] Beckett’s advice to the American director Alan Schneider was: “[Pozzo] is a hypomaniac and the only way to play him is to play him mad.”[22]

“In his [English] translation … Beckett struggled to retain the French atmosphere as much as possible, so that he delegated all the English names and places to Lucky, whose own name, he thought, suggested such a correlation.”[41]

[edit] The Boys
The cast list specifies only one boy.

The boy in Act I, a local lad, assures Vladimir that this is the first time he has seen him. He says he was not there the previous day. He confirms he works for Mr Godot as a goatherd. His brother, who Godot beats, is a shepherd. Godot feeds both of them and allows them to sleep in his hayloft.

The boy in Act II also assures Vladimir that it was not he who called upon them the day before. He insists that this too is his first visit. When Vladimir asks what Godot does the boy tells him, “He does nothing, sir.”[42] We also learn he has a white beard – possibly, the boy is not certain. This boy also has a brother who it seems is sick but there is no clear evidence to suggest that his brother is the boy that came in Act I or the one who came the day before that.

As messengers from Godot, those who take a Christian interpretation of the play naturally cast the boys in the role of angels.[citation needed]

[edit] Godot
The identity of Godot has been the subject of much debate. “When Colin Duckworth asked Beckett point-blank whether Pozzo was Godot, the author replied: ‘No. It is just implied in the text, but it's not true.’”[43]

“When Roger Blin asked him who or what Godot stood for, Beckett replied that it suggested itself to him by the slang word for boot in French, godillot, godasse because feet play such a prominent role in the play. This is the explanation he has given most often.”[44]

“Beckett said to Peter Woodthorpe that he regretted calling the absent character ‘Godot’, because of all the theories involving God to which this had given rise.[45] “I also told [Ralph] Richardson that if by Godot I had meant God I would [have] said God, and not Godot. This seemed to disappoint him greatly.”[46] That said, Beckett did once concede, “It would be fatuous of me to pretend that I am not aware of the meanings attached to the word ‘Godot’, and the opinion of many that it means ‘God’. But you must remember – I wrote the play in French, and if I did have that meaning in my mind, it was somewhere in my unconscious and I was not overtly aware of it.”[47] This is an interesting remark, especially considering that “Beckett has often stressed the strong unconscious impulses that partly control his writing; he has even spoken of being ‘in a trance’ when he writes.”[48]

Unlike elsewhere in Beckett's work, no bicycle appears in this play, but Hugh Kenner in his essay "The Cartesian Centaur" [49] reports that Beckett once, when asked about the meaning of Godot, mentioned "a veteran racing cyclist, bald, a 'stayer,' recurrent placeman in town-to-town and national championships, Christian name elusive, surname Godeau, pronounced, of course, no differently from Godot." Waiting for Godot is clearly not about track cycling, but is said that Beckett himself did wait for French cyclist Roger Godeau (1920-2000; a professional cyclist from 1943 to 1961), outside the velodrome in Roubaix.

What if Godot were to arrive? The Christian reading of the play suggests that were this to happen only one of the two tramps would benefit. Of the two thieves crucified along with Jesus only one was saved, of the two boys who work for Godot only one appears safe from beatings, “Beckett said, only half-jokingly, that one of Estragon’s feet was saved”;[50] it is perhaps better for the pair of them that he does not come.

The name "Godot" is pronounced in Britain and Ireland with the emphasis on the first syllable, /ˈɡɒdoʊ/); in North America it is usually pronounced with an emphasis on the second syllable, /ɡəˈdoʊ/. Beckett himself said the emphasis should be on the first syllable, and that the North American pronunciation is a mistake. [1] The T is silent.

Setting
There is only one scene throughout both acts. Two men are waiting on a country road by a tree. The script calls for Estragon to sit on a low mound but in practice – as in Beckett’s own 1975 German production – this is usually a stone. In the first act the tree is bare. In the second, a few leaves have appeared despite the script specifying that it is the next day. The minimal description calls to mind “the idea of the ‘lieu vague’, a location which should not be particularised”.[51]

Alan Schneider once suggested putting the play on in a round – Pozzo has often been commented on as a ringmaster[52] – but Beckett dissuaded him: “I don’t in my ignorance agree with the round and feel Godot needs a very closed box.” He once even contemplated at one point having “faint shadow of bars on stage floor” but, in the end, decided against this level of what he called “explicitation”. (See Beckett in Berlin) In his 1975 Schiller-Theatre production there are times when Didi and Gogo appear to bounce off something “like birds trapped in the strands of [an invisible] net”, to use James Knowlson’s description. Didi and Gogo are only trapped because they still cling to the concept that freedom is possible; freedom is a state of mind, so is imprisonment.

[edit] Interpretations
[edit] Samuel Beckett
Beckett's interpretation:[53]

"Because the play is so stripped down, so elemental, it invites all kinds of social and political and religious interpretation," wrote Normand Berlin in a tribute to the play in Autumn 1999, "with Beckett himself placed in different schools of thought, different movements and 'ism's. The attempts to pin him down have not been successful, but the desire to do so is natural when we encounter a writer whose minimalist art reaches for bedrock reality. 'Less' forces us to look for 'more,' and the need to talk about Godot and about Beckett has resulted in a steady outpouring of books and articles."[54]

Throughout Waiting for Godot, the reader or viewer may encounter religious, philosophical, classical, psychoanalytical and biographical — especially wartime — references. There are ritualistic aspects and elements literally lifted from vaudeville[55] and there is a danger in making more of these than what they are: that is, merely structural conveniences, avatars into which the writer places his fictional characters. The play "exploits several archetypal forms and situations, all of which lend themselves to both comedy and pathos."[56] Beckett makes this point emphatically clear in the opening notes to Film: "No truth value attaches to the above, regarded as of merely structural and dramatic convenience."[57] He made another important remark to Lawrence Harvey, saying that his "work does not depend on experience — [it is] not a record of experience. Of course you use it."[58]

Beckett tired quickly of "the endless misunderstanding". As far back as 1955, he remarked, "Why people have to complicate a thing so simple I can't make out."[59] He was not forthcoming with anything more than cryptic clues, however: "Peter Woodthrope [who played Estragon] remembered asking him one day in a taxi what the play was really about: 'It's all symbiosis, Peter; it's symbiosis,' answered Beckett."[60]

Beckett directed the play for the Schiller-Theatre in 1975. Although he had overseen many productions, this was the first time that he had taken complete control. Walter Asmus was his conscientious young assistant director. The production was not naturalistic. Beckett explained,

It is a game, everything is a game. When all four of them are lying on the ground, that cannot be handled naturalistically. That has got to be done artificially, balletically. Otherwise everything becomes an imitation, an imitation of reality [...]. It should become clear and transparent, not dry. It is a game in order to survive."[61]

Over the years, Beckett clearly realised that the greater part of Godot's success came down to the fact that it was open to a variety of readings and that this was not necessarily a bad thing. Beckett himself sanctioned "one of the most famous mixed-race productions of Godot, performed at the Baxter Theatre in the University of Cape Town, directed by Donald Howarth, with [...] two black actors, John Kani and Winston Ntshona, playing Didi and Gogo; Pozzo, dressed in checked shirt and gumboots reminiscent of an Afrikaner landlord, and Lucky ('a shanty town piece of white trash'[62]) were played by two white actors, Bill Flynn and Peter Piccolo [...]. The Baxter production has often been portrayed as if it were an explicitly political production, when in fact it received very little emphasis.[citation needed] What such a reaction showed, however, was that, although the play can in no way be taken as a political allegory, there are elements that are relevant to any local situation in which one man is being exploited or oppressed by another."[63]

[edit] Political interpretations
"It was seen as an allegory of the cold war"[64] or of French resistance to the Germans. Graham Hassell writes, "[T]he intrusion of Pozzo and Lucky [...] seems like nothing more than a metaphor for Ireland's view of mainland Britain, where society has ever been blighted by a greedy ruling élite keeping the working classes passive and ignorant by whatever means."[65]

The pair is often played with Irish accents, as in the Beckett on Film project. This, some feel, is an inevitable consequence of Beckett's rhythms and phraseology, but it is not stipulated in the text. At any rate, they are not of English stock: at one point early in the play, Estragon mocks the English pronunciation of "calm" and has fun with "the story of the Englishman in the brothel".[66]

[edit] Freudian interpretations
"Bernard Dukore develops a triadic theory in Didi, Gogo and the absent Godot, based on Freud's trinitarian description of the psyche in The Ego and the Id (1923) and the usage of onomastic techniques. Dukore defines the characters by what they lack: the rational Go-go embodies the incomplete ego, the missing pleasure principle: (e)go-(e)go. Di-di (id-id) — who is more instinctual and irrational — is seen as the backward id or subversion of the rational principle. Godot fulfils the function of the superego or moral standards. Pozzo and Lucky are just re-iterations of the main protagonists. Dukore finally sees Beckett's play as a metaphor for the futility of man's existence when salvation is expected from an external entity, and the self is denied introspection."[67]

Jungian interpretations
"The four archetypal personalities or the four aspects of the soul are grouped in two pairs: the ego and the shadow, the persona and the soul's image (animus or anima). The shadow is the container of all our despised emotions repressed by the ego. Lucky, the shadow serves as the polar opposite of the egocentric Pozzo, prototype of prosperous mediocrity, who incessantly controls and persecutes his subordinate, thus symbolising the oppression of the unconscious shadow by the despotic ego. Lucky's monologue in Act I appears as a manifestation of a stream of repressed unconsciousness, as he is allowed to "think" for his master. Estragon's name has another connotation, besides that of the aromatic herb, tarragon: "estragon" is a cognate of oestrogen, the female hormone (Carter, 130). This prompts us to identify him with the anima, the feminine image of Vladimir's soul. It explains Estragon's propensity for poetry, his sensitivity and dreams, his irrational moods. Vladimir appears as the complementary masculine principle, or perhaps the rational persona of the contemplative type."[68]

Existentialist interpretations
Broadly speaking, existentialists hold that there are certain questions that everyone must deal with if they are to take human life seriously, questions such as death, the meaning of human existence and the place of (or lack of) God in that existence. By and large, they believe that life is very difficult and without an "objective" or universally known value: the individual must create value by affirming it and living it, not by talking about it. The play may be seen to touch on all of these issues.

[edit] Biblical interpretations
Much can be read into Beckett's inclusion of the story of the two thieves from Luke 23:39-43 and the ensuing discussion of repentance. It is easy to see the solitary tree as representative of the Christian cross or, indeed, the tree of life. Similarly, because Lucky describes God as having a white beard, and Godot, if the boy's testimony is to be believed, also has a white beard, many see God and Godot as one and the same. Vladimir's "Christ have mercy upon us!"[69] could be taken as evidence that that is at least what he believes.

This reading is given further weight early in the first act when Estragon asks Vladimir what it is that he has requested from Godot:

VLADIMIR: Oh ... nothing very definite.

ESTRAGON: A kind of prayer.

VLADIMIR: Precisely.

ESTRAGON: A vague supplication.

VLADIMIR: Exactly.[70]

Much of the play, sated as it is in scriptural allusion, deals with the subject of religion. The boy claims to be a goatherd, while his brother, he says, is a shepherd: in the Bible, goats represent the damned and sheep those who have been saved.

According to Anthony Cronin, "[Beckett] always possessed a Bible, at the end more than one edition, and Bible concordances were always among the reference books on his shelves."[71] Beckett himself was quite open on the issue: "Christianity is a mythology with which I am perfectly familiar so I naturally use it."[72] As Cronin (one of his biographers) points out, his biblical references "may be ironic or even sarcastic".[73]

"In answer to a defence counsel question in 1937 (during a libel action brought by his uncle) as to whether he was a Christian, Jew or atheist, Beckett replied, 'None of the three'".[74] Looking at Beckett's entire œuvre, Mary Bryden observed that "the hypothesised God who emerges from Beckett's texts is one who is both cursed for his perverse absence and cursed for his surveillant presence. He is by turns dismissed, satirised, or ignored, but he, and his tortured son, are never definitively discarded."[75]

[edit] Autobiographical interpretations
Waiting for Godot has been described as a "metaphor for the long walk into Roussillon, when Beckett and Suzanne slept in haystacks [...] during the day and walked by night [... or] of the relationship of Beckett to Joyce."[76] The earliest drafts contain significant personal references, but these were later excised.[citation needed]

Homoerotic interpretations
That the play calls on only male actors, with scarcely a reference to women, has caused some to look upon Vladimir and Estragon's relationship as quasi-marital: "they bicker, they embrace each other, they depend upon each other [.... T]hey might be thought of as a married couple
."[77]

Certainly, the pair has a long history — "Who am I to tell my private nightmares to if I can't tell them to you?" asks Gogo of Didi in the opening act[78] — and frequently displays intimacy, although none of it overtly homosexual. In Act One, Estragon speaks gently to his partner, approaching him slowly and laying a hand on his shoulder. After asking for his hand in turn and telling him not to be stubborn, he suddenly embraces him but backs off just as quickly, complaining, "You stink of garlic!"[79]

When Estragon reminisces about his occasional glances at the Bible and remembers how prettily coloured were the maps of the Dead Sea, he remarks, "That's where we'll go, I used to say, that's where we'll go for our honeymoon. We'll swim. We'll be happy."[80] These words do much to buttress the homoerotic standpoint, for no mention is made of either protagonist's wife, leading to the assumption that Estragon's honeymoon would have been with Vladimir. On one occasion, too, Beckett has Estragon "[w]heedling" a fraught Vladimir "[v]oluptuously".[78]

It is also notable that the temptation to achieve post-mortem erections arises in the context of a world without females, and that the pair wishes to achieve them together. Estragon in particular is "[h]ighly excited", in contrast with Vladimir, who chooses this moment to talk about shrieking mandrakes.[79] His apparent indifference to his partner's arousal may be viewed as a sort of playful teasing.

Their apparent affiliation as soulmates has much to recommend it, as their dialogue frequently regresses into a soliloquy spoken by two, with each extending the other's train of thought, much as married couples are known to do:

ESTRAGON: And what did he reply?

VLADIMIR: That he'd see.

ESTRAGON: That he couldn't promise anything.

VLADIMIR: That he'd have to think it over.

ESTRAGON: In the quiet of his home.

VLADIMIR: Consult his family.

ESTRAGON: His friends.

VLADIMIR: His agents.

ESTRAGON: His correspondents.

VLADIMIR: His books.

ESTRAGON: His bank account.

VLADIMIR: Before taking a decision.[81]

Another, albeit less concrete, instance of possible homoeroticism has been discerned in the segment in which Estragon "sucks the end of it [his carrot]",[82] although Beckett describes this as a meditative action.[82]

Interpretations from compassion

All pairs in the play show a lack of compassion — sometimes brutally, as when the main characters, always looking at the advantage to themselves, seek to kick, instead of help, Pozzo, who is calling out piteously for help over and over again. Is the island, with its single tree, a place of purgatory in which the pairs eternally await an expression of compassion for their fellow, as one evildoer expresses towards the Christ on the Cross? Is Godot in fact not a man but a personification of compassion that only arrives when created in the breast of man himself?

Just after Didi and Gogo have been particularly selfish and callous, the boy comes to say that Godot is not coming. The boy (or pair of boys) may be seen to represent meekness and hope before compassion is consciously excluded by an evolving personality and character, and may be the youthful Pozzo and Lucky; in which case, Lucky would be the brother allegedly beaten by Godot.[dubious – discuss] That would make Pozzo Godot, but, since both of the main characters also beat Lucky, they, too, are Godot.[dubious – discuss]

Thus Godot is compassion and fails to arrive every day, as he says he will. No-one is concerned that a boy is beaten.[83] In this interpretation, there is the irony that only by changing their hearts to be compassionate can the characters fixed to the tree move on and cease to have to wait for Godot.

The leaves on the tree may signify decades or even centuries of circumlocution, like a prisoner counting off days of imprisonment. The men, like the pair crucified with "the saviour" (id est, Jesus Christ), find themselves fixed to a tree and faced with the certainty of death and the uncertainty of life. If one was compassionate, his destiny would be different to the other, for he would await the "saviour" for life;[dubious – discuss] the other would await the opportunity for exercising compassion, which is the purpose of human existence.[dubious – discuss]

Finally, it has been seen to explain the famous plot in which nothing happens: nothing is lack of compassion and empathy for one's fellow on earth — a failure to love, which makes life pointless, whatever is pursued and however long one lives. This nothing, to the pair, seems infernally eternal. At many points in the play, there are opportunities for compassion to be shown, as in leading the blind Pozzo, which would have spirited the tortured souls away from the tree no longer as two but as four.[dubious – discuss] The repeated answer that they cannot leave because they are waiting for Godot would not apply because they would recognise that he is already there and has eternally ended his hold on them. If there is a message in this play, under this interpretation it could be the uncomplicated one that loving others is the purpose of each day of life, and the alternative is to await the next day to avoid a futile existence.

Beckett's objection to female actors
Beckett was not open to most interpretative approaches to his work. He famously objected when, in the 1980s, several women's acting companies began to stage the play. "Women don't have prostates," said Beckett,[84] a reference to the fact that Vladimir frequently has to leave the stage to urinate.

In 1988, Beckett took a Dutch theatre company, De Haarlemse Toneelschuur to court over this issue. "Beckett [...] lost his case. But the issue of gender seemed to him to be so vital a distinction for a playwright to make that he reacted angrily, instituting a ban on all productions of his plays in The Netherlands."[85] In 1991, however, "Judge Huguette Le Foyer de Costil ruled that the production would not cause excessive damage to Beckett's legacy", and the play was duly performed by the all-female cast of the Brut de Beton Theater Company at the prestigious Avignon Festival.[86]

The Italian Pontedera Theatre Foundation won a similar claim in 2006 when it cast two actresses in the roles of Vladimir and Estragon, albeit in the characters' traditional roles as males.[87] At the 1995 Acco Festival, director Nola Chilton staged a production with Daniella Michaeli in the role of Lucky[88], and a 2001 production at Indiana University staged the play with women playing Pozzo and the Boy.[citation needed]

[edit] History
“[I]t was Beckett’s escape from the increasingly despotic interiority of the fictional trilogy; in Beckett’s own phrasing, ‘I began to write Godot as a relaxation, to get away from the awful prose I was writing at the time.’”[89] It was inspired, according to Beckett himself, by a painting by Caspar David Friedrich. Ruby Cohn recalls seeing the painting, Man and Woman Contemplating the Moon of 1824, along with Beckett who “announced unequivocally, ‘This was the source of Waiting for Godot, you know.’”[90] “He may well have confused two paintings since, at other times, he drew the attention of friends to Two Men Contemplating the Moon from 1819, in which two men dressed in cloaks and viewed from the rear are looking at a full moon framed by the black branches of a large, leafless tree.”[91] In either case both paintings are similar enough that what he attested to could apply equally to either. However, some sources point to conversations between Suzanne Deschevaux-Dumesnil and Beckett in Roussillon as the inspiration for the work. Beckett admitted such in a New York Post interview by Jerry Tallmer [2].

“[O]n 17 February 1952 … an abridged version of the play was performed in the studio of the Club d’Essai de la Radio and was broadcast on [French] radio … [A]lthough he sent a polite note that Roger Blin read out, Beckett himself did not turn up.”[92] Part of his introduction reads:

I don’t know who Godot is. I don’t even know (above all don’t know) if he exists. And I don’t know if they believe in him or not – those two who are waiting for him. The other two who pass by towards the end of each of the two acts, that must be to break up the monotony. All I knew I showed. It’s not much, but it’s enough for me, by a wide margin. I’ll even say that I would have been satisfied with less. As for wanting to find in all that a broader, loftier meaning to carry away from the performance, along with the program and the Eskimo pie, I cannot see the point of it. But it must be possible … Estragon, Vladimir, Pozzo, Lucky, their time and their space, I was able to know them a little, but far from the need to understand. Maybe they owe you explanations. Let them supply it. Without me. They and I are through with each other.[93]
The Minuit edition appeared in print on 17 October 1952 in advance of the play’s first full theatrical performance. On 4 January 1953, “[t]hirty reviewers came to the générale of En attendant Godot before the public opening … Contrary to later legend, the reviewers were kind … Some dozen reviews in daily newspapers range[d] from tolerant to enthusiastic ... Reviews in the weeklies [were] longer and more fervent; moreover, they appeared in time to lure spectators to that first thirty-day run”[94] which began on 5 January 1953 at the Théâtre de Babylone, Paris. Early public performances were not, however, without incident: during one performance “the curtain had to be brought down after Lucky’s monologue as twenty, well-dressed, but disgruntled spectators whistled and hooted derisively … One of the protesters [even] wrote a vituperative letter dated 2 February 1953 to Le Monde.”[95]


The cast comprised Pierre Latour (Estragon), Lucien Raimbourg (Vladimir), Jean Martin (Lucky) and Roger Blin (Pozzo). The actor due to play Pozzo found a more remunerative role and so the director – a shy, lean man in real life – had to step in and play the stout bombaster himself with a pillow amplifying his stomach. Both boys were played by Serge Lecointe. The entire production was done on the thinnest of shoestring budgets; the large battered valise that Martin carried “was found among the city’s refuse by the husband of the theatre dresser on his rounds as he worked clearing the dustbins,”[96] for example.

A particularly significant production – from Beckett’s perspective – took place in Lüttringhausen Prison near Wuppertal in Germany. An inmate obtained a copy of the French first edition, translated it himself into German and obtained permission to stage the play. The first night had been on 29 November 1953. He wrote to Beckett in October 1954: “You will be surprised to be receiving a letter about your play Waiting for Godot, from a prison where so many thieves, forgers, toughs, homos, crazy men and killers spend this bitch of a life waiting … and waiting … and waiting. Waiting for what? Godot? Perhaps.”[97] Beckett was intensely moved and intended to visit the prison to see a last performance of the play but it never happened. This marked “the beginning of Beckett’s enduring links with prisons and prisoners … He took a tremendous interest in productions of his plays performed in prisons … He even gave Rick Cluchey a former prisoner from San Quentin financial and moral support over a period of many years.”[98] Cluchey played Vladimir in two productions in the former Gallows room of the San Quentin California State Prison, which had been converted into a 65-seat theatre and, like the German prisoner before him, went on to work on a variety of Beckett’s plays after his release.

The English-language premiere was on 3 August 1955 at the Arts Theatre, London, directed by the 24-year-old Peter Hall Again, the printed version preceded it (New York: Grove Press, 1954) but Faber’s “mutilated” edition did not materialise until 1956. A “corrected” edition was subsequently produced in 1965. “The most accurate text is in Theatrical Notebooks I, (Ed.) Dougald McMillan and James Knowlson (Faber and Grove, 1993). It is based on Beckett’s revisions for his Schiller-Theatre production (1975) and the London San Quentin Drama Workshop, based on the Schiller production but revised further at the Riverside Studios (March 1984).”[99]

Like all of Beckett’s translations, Waiting for Godot is not simply a literal translation of En attendant Godot. “Small but significant differences separate the French and English text. Some, like Vladimir’s inability to remember the farmer’s name (Bonnelly[100]), show how the translation became more indefinite, attrition and loss of memory more pronounced.”[101] A number of biographical details were removed, all adding to a general “vaguening”[102] of the text which he continued to trim for the rest of his life.

In the nineteen-fifties, theatre was strictly censored in the UK, to Beckett's amazement since he thought it a bastion of free speech. The Lord Chamberlain insisted that the word "erection" be removed, “‘Fartov’ became ‘Popov’ and Mrs Gozzo had ‘warts’ instead of ‘clap’”.[103] Indeed, there were attempts to ban the play completely. For example, Lady Dorothy Howitt wrote to the Lord Chamberlain, saying: "One of the many themes running through the play is the desire of two old tramps continually to relieve themselves. Such a dramatisation of lavatory necessities is offensive and against all sense of British decency."[104] “The first unexpurgated version of Godot in England … opened at the Royal Court on 30 December 1964.”[105]

The London run was not without incident. The actor Peter Bull, who played Pozzo, recalls the reaction of that first night audience:

“Waves of hostility came whirling over the footlights, and the mass exodus, which was to form such a feature of the run of the piece, started quite soon after the curtain had risen. The audible groans were also fairly disconcerting … The curtain fell to mild applause, we took a scant three calls (Peter Woodthorpe reports only one curtain call[106]) and a depression and a sense of anti-climax descended on us all.”[107]
The critics were less than unkind but “[e]verything changed on Sunday 7 August 1955 with Kenneth Tynan’s and Harold Hobson’s reviews in The Observer and The Sunday Times. Beckett was always grateful to the two reviewers for their support … which more or less transformed the play overnight into the rage of London.”[108] “At the end of the year, the Evening Standard Drama Awards were held for the first time ... Feelings ran high and the opposition, led by Sir Malcolm Sargent, threatened to resign if Godot won [The Best New Play category]. An English compromise was worked out by changing the title of the award. Godot became The Most Controversial Play of the Year. It is a prize that has never been given since.”[109]

The first production of the play in the United States was at the Coconut Grove Playhouse in Coconut Grove, Florida on 3 January 1956.[110]. It starred Tom Ewell as Vladimir and Bert Lahr as Estragon.

Beckett resisted offers to film the play, although it was televised in his lifetime. When Keep Films made Beckett an offer to film an adaptation in which Peter O’Toole would feature, Beckett tersely told his French publisher to advise them: “I do not want a film of Godot.”[111] The BBC broadcast a production of Waiting for Godot on 26 June 1961, a version for radio having already been transmitted on 25 April 1960. Beckett watched the programme with a few close friends in Peter Woodthorpe’s Chelsea flat. He was unhappy with what he saw. “My play,” he said, “wasn’t written for this box. My play was written for small men locked in a big space. Here you’re all too big for the place.”[112]

Although not his favourite amongst his plays – perhaps because of the way it came to overshadow everything else he wrote – it was the work which brought Beckett fame and financial stability and as such it always held a special place in his affections. “When the manuscript and rare books dealer, Henry Wenning, asked him if he could sell the original French manuscript for him, Beckett replied: ‘Rightly or wrongly have decided not to let Godot go yet. Neither sentimental nor financial, probably peak of market now and never such an offer. Can’t explain.’”[113]

A 2009 Broadway revival of the play, starring Nathan Lane and Bill Irwin, was nominated for 3 Tony Awards: Best Revival of a Play, Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Play (John Glover), and Best Costume Design of a Play (Jane Greenwood).[114] It received rave reviews, and was a huge success for the Roundabout Theatre. Variety called it a "transcendent" production.

On 30 April 2009 a landmark production of Waiting for Godot was launched in London's West End, at the Theatre Royal Haymarket. The production stars Sir Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart as the two lead roles. The pair bring a rapport to the characters of Vladimir and Estragon that has won much critical acclaim [115]. In 2009, The Daily Telegraph reported that Patrick Stewart saw the ghost of John Baldwin Buckstone standing in the wings during a performance at the Haymarket.[116]

[edit] Related works
Racine’s Bérénice is a play “in which nothing happens for five acts.”[117] In the preface to this play Racine writes: “All creativity consists in making something out of nothing.” Beckett was an avid scholar of the 17th century playwright and lectured on him during his time at Trinity. “Essential to the static quality of a Racine play is the pairing of characters to talk at length to each other.”[51]
The title character of Balzac's 1851 play Mercadet is waiting for financial salvation from his never seen business partner, Godeau. Although Beckett was familiar with Balzac's prose; he is insistent that he learned of this play after finishing Waiting for Godot. Coincidentally, in 1949, Balzac's play was closely adapted to film as The Lovable Cheat (starring Buster Keaton, whom Beckett greatly admired).
Clifford Odets' famous 1935 play Waiting for Lefty was about workers oppressed by capitalism, waiting for the salvation in the form of union organiser Lefty. But the play ends as the workers learn that Lefty will not come after all (having been murdered).
The unity of place, the particular site on the edge of a marsh which the two tramps cannot leave, recalls Sartre's striking use of the unity of place in his 1944 play, No Exit. There it is hell in the appearance of a Second Empire living room that the three characters cannot leave. The curtain line of each play underscores the unity of place, the setting of which is prison. The Let’s go! of Godot corresponds to the Well, well, let's get on with it....! of No Exit. Sartre's hell is projected by use of some of the quid pro quos of a bedroom farce, whereas the unnamed plateau – the platter Didi and Gogo are served up on in the French version – evokes an empty vaudeville stage.
Many critics regard the protagonists in Beckett’s novel Mercier and Camier as prototypes of Vladimir and Estragon. “If you want to find the origins of Godot,” he told Colin Duckworth once, “look at Murphy.”[118] Here we see the agonised protagonist yearning for self-knowledge, or at least complete freedom of thought at any cost, and the dichotomy and interaction of mind and body. It is also a book that dwells on mental illness something that affects all the characters in Godot. In defence of the critics, Mercier and Camier wander aimlessly about a boggy, rain-soaked island that, although not explicitly named, is Beckett's native Ireland. They speak convoluted dialogues similar to Vladimir and Estragon's, joke about the weather and chat in pubs, while the purpose of their odyssey is never made clear. The waiting in Godot is the wandering of the novel. “There are large chunks of dialogue which he later transferred directly into Godot.”[119]
[edit] Works inspired by Godot
An unauthorised sequel was written by Miodrag Bulatović in 1966: Godo je došao (Godot Arrived). It was translated from the Serbian into German (Godot ist gekommen) and French. The playwright presents Godot as a baker who ends up being condemned to death by the four main characters. Since it turns out he is indestructible Lucky declares him non-existent. Although Beckett was noted for disallowing productions that took even slight liberties with his plays, he let this pass without incident but not without comment. Ruby Cohn writes: “On the flyleaf of my edition of the Bulatović play, Beckett is quoted: ‘I think that all that has nothing to do with me.’”[120]
An unauthorised prequel, of sorts, formed Part II of Ian McDonald's 1991 novel King of Morning, Queen of Day (partly written in Joycean style). Two main characters are clearly meant to be the original Vladimir and Estragon.
Another unauthorised sequel was written by Daniel Curzon in the late 1990s: Godot Arrives.
A radical transformation was written by Bernard Pautrat, performed at Théâtre National de Strasbourg in 1979-1980: Ils allaient obscurs sous la nuit solitaire (d'après ‘En attendant Godot’ de Samuel Beckett). The piece was performed in a disused hangar. “This space, marked by diffusion, and therefore quite unlike traditional concentration of dramatic space, was animated, not by four actors and the brief appearance of a fifth one (as in Beckett’s play), but by ten actors. Four of them bore the names of Gogo, Didi, Lucky and Pozzo. The others were: the owner of the Citroën, the barman, the bridegroom, the bride, the man with the Ricard [and] the man with the club foot. The dialogue, consisting of extensive quotes from the original, was distributed in segments among the ten actors, not necessarily following the order of the original.”[121]
French playwright Matei Vişniec (of Romanian origin), wrote his famous play Old Clown Wanted, inspired by Waiting for Godot.
Matei Vişniec's play, "The Last Godot", in which Samuel Becket and Godot are characters, ends with the first lines in Waiting for Godot.
The film Waiting for Guffman, in which Guffman never arrives.
Godot is a character in Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, named for the mystery of his identity. He likes coffee.
In the Bollywood film Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na, a man is waiting outside an airport with a card saying "GODOT". He is an old man, which shows that he has probably been waiting for a very long time.
The music video for k.d. lang's song "Constant Craving" depicts a crowd watching a 1950s production of Waiting for Godot.
[edit] References
^ Berlin, N., "Traffic of our stage: Why Waiting for Godot?" in The Massachusetts Review, Autumn 1999
^ Ackerley, C. J. and Gontarski, S. E., (Eds.) The Faber Companion to Samuel Beckett (London: Faber and Faber, 2006), p. 620.
^ Ackerley and Gontarski 2006, p. 172.
^ The Times, 31 December 1964. Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p. 57.
^ Beckett objected strongly to the sentence being rendered: "Nothing Doing". (Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p. 567)
^ The character Pozzo, however, prominently wears and takes note of a watch that he is wearing.
^ a b Beckett 1988, p. 18.
^ Beckett 1988, p. 21.
^ Beckett 1988, p. 23.
^ Roger Blin, who acted in and directed the premier of Waiting for Godot, teasingly described Lucky to Jean Martin (who played him) as "a one-line part". (Cohn, R., From Desire to Godot (London: Calder Publications; New York: Riverrun Press, 1998), p. 151)
^ The phrase in question refers to "a personal God [...] who from the heights of divine apathia divine athambia divine aphasia loves us dearly [...]." (Beckett 2006, p. 42)
^ Brown, V., Yesterday's Deformities: A Discussion of the Role of Memory and Discourse in the Plays of Samuel Beckett, (doctoral thesis), p. 92.
^ Cliffs Notes on Beckett's Waiting for Godot & Other Plays (Lincoln, Nebraska, 1980), p. 29.
^ Beckett 1988, p. 50.
^ See Clausius, C., ‘Bad Habits While Waiting for Godot’ in Burkman, K. H., (Ed.) Myth and Ritual in the Plays of Samuel Beckett (London and Toronto: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 1987), p 139
^ Webb, E., The Plays of Samuel Beckett (Seattle: Univ. of Washington Press, 1974)
^ Beckett, S., Waiting for Godot, (London: Faber and Faber, [1956] 1988), p 59
^ Beckett, S., Waiting for Godot, (London: Faber and Faber, [1956] 1988), p 89
^ SB to Barney Rosset, 18 October 1954 (Syracuse). Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p 412
^ Quoted in Le Nouvel Observateur (26 September 1981) and referenced in Cohn, R., From Desire to Godot (London: Calder Publications; New York: Riverrun Press), 1998, p 150
^ Cronin, A., Samuel Beckett The Last Modernist (London: Flamingo, 1997), p 382
^ a b Letter to Alan Schneider, 27 December 1955 in Harmon, M., (Ed.) No Author Better Served: The Correspondence of Samuel Beckett and Alan Schneider (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998), p 6
^ Kalb, J., Beckett in Performance (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), p 43
^ Beckett, S., Waiting for Godot, (London: Faber and Faber, [1956] 1988), p 12
^ See Brown, V., Yesterday’s Deformities: A Discussion of the Role of Memory and Discourse in the Plays of Samuel Beckett, pp 35-75 for a detailed discussion of this.
^ Alvarez, A. Beckett 2nd Edition (London: Fontana Press, 1992)
^ a b Gurnow, M., No Symbol Where None Intended: A Study of Symbolism and Allusion in Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot
^ Fletcher, J., ‘The Arrival of Godot’ in The Modern Language Review, Vol. 64, No. 1 (Jan., 1969), pp. 34-38
^ Duckworth, C., (Ed.) ‘Introduction’ to En attendant Godot (London: George Harrap, 1966), pp lxiii, lxiv. Quoted in Ackerley, C. J. and Gontarski, S. E., (Eds.) The Faber Companion to Samuel Beckett, (London: Faber and Faber, 2006), p 183
^ Mercier, V., ‘The Uneventful Event’ in The Irish Times, 18 February 1956
^ Mercier, V., Beckett/Beckett (London: Souvenir Press, 1990), p 46
^ Mercier, V., Beckett/Beckett (London: Souvenir Press, 1990), pp 47,49
^ Jean Martin on the World Première of En attendant Godot in Knowlson, J. & E., (Ed.) Beckett Remembering – Remembering Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 2006), p 117
^ Wilmer S. E., (Ed.) Beckett in Dublin (Dublin: Lilliput Press, 1992), p 28
^ Jean Martin to Deirdre Bair, 12 May 1976. Quoted in Bair, D., Samuel Beckett: A Biography (London: Vintage, 1990), p 449
^ Duckworth, C., The Making of Godot, p 95. Quoted in Bair, D., Samuel Beckett: A Biography (London: Vintage, 1990), p 407
^ Friedman, N., 'Godot and Gestalt: The Meaning of Meaningless' in The American Journal of Psychoanalysis 49(3) p 277
^ Kalb, J., Beckett in Performance (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), p 175
^ Mercier, V., Beckett/Beckett (London: Souvenir Press, 1990), p 53
^ Beckett, S., Waiting for Godot, (London: Faber and Faber, [1956] 1988), p 21
^ Barney Rosset to Deidre Bair, 29 March 1974. Referenced in Bair, D., Samuel Beckett: A Biography (London: Vintage, 1990), p 464
^ Beckett, S., Waiting for Godot, (London: Faber and Faber, [1956] 1988), p 91
^ Colin Duckworth’s introduction to En attendant Godot (London: George G Harrap & Co, 1966), lx. Quoted in Cohn, R., From Desire to Godot (London: Calder Publications; New York: Riverrun Press, 1998), p 150
^ Bair, D., Samuel Beckett: A Biography (London: Vintage, 1990), p 405
^ Interview with Peter Woodthrope 18 February 1994. Referenced in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p 785 n 166
^ SB to Barney Rosset, 18 October 1954 (Syracuse). Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p 412
^ Bair, D., Samuel Beckett: A Biography (London: Vintage, 1990), p 591
^ Mercier, V., Beckett/Beckett (London: Souvenir Press, 1990), p 87
^ Kenner, H., The Cartesian Centaur, (Perspective, 1959)
^ Ackerley, C. J. and Gontarski, S. E., (Eds.) The Faber Companion to Samuel Beckett, (London: Faber and Faber, 2006)
^ a b Cronin, A., Samuel Beckett The Last Modernist (London: Flamingo, 1997), p 60
^ Hampton, W., Theater Review: Celebrating With 'Waiting for Godot' New York Times, 11 June 2007
^ Genest, G., ‘Memories of Samuel Beckett in the Rehearsals for Endgame, 1967’ in Ben-Zvi, L., (Ed.) Women in Beckett: Performance and Critical Perspectives (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1992), p x
^ Berlin 1999.
^ The game of changing hats is an echo of the Marx Brothers' film Duck Soup, which features almost exactly the same headgear-swapping action. See Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p. 609.
^ Cronin, A., Samuel Beckett The Last Modernist (London: Flamingo, 1997), p. 391.
^ Beckett, S., The Grove Centenary Edition, Vol III (New York: Grove Press, 2006), p. 371.
^ An undated interview with Lawrence Harvey. Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), pp. 371, 372.
^ SB to Thomas MacGreevy, 11 August 1955 (TCD). Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p. 416.
^ Interview with Peter Woodthrope, 18 February 1994. Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), pp. 371, 372.
^ Quoted in Asmus, W., ‘Beckett directs Godot’ in Theatre Quarterly, Vol V, No 19, 1975, pp. 23, 24. Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p. 607.
^ Irving Wardle, The Times, 19 February 1981.
^ Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), pp 638,639
^ Peter Hall in The Guardian, 4 January 2003
^ Hassell, G., ‘What's On’ London, 2nd - 9 July 1997.
^ Beckett 2008, p. 8.
^ Sion, I., "The Zero Soul: Godot's Waiting Selves In Dante's Waiting Rooms" in Transverse No 2, November 2004, p. 70.
^ Sion, I., ‘The Shape of the Beckettian Self: Godot and the Jungian Mandala’ in Consciousness, Literature and the Arts Volume 7 Number 1, April 2006. See also Carter, S., ‘Estragon’s Ancient Wound: A Note on Waiting for Godot’ in Journal of Beckett Studies 6.1, p. 130.
^ Beckett, S., Waiting for Godot, (London: Faber and Faber, [1956] 1988), p. 92.
^ Beckett 2006, pp. 10-11.
^ Cronin, A., Samuel Beckett The Last Modernist (London: Flamingo, 1997), p. 21.
^ Duckworth, C., Angels of Darkness: Dramatic Effect in Samuel Beckett with Special Reference to Eugène Ionesco (London: Allen, 1972), p. 18. Quoted in Herren, G., ‘Nacht und Träume as Beckett's Agony in the Garden’ in Journal of Beckett Studies, 11(1)
^ Cronin, A., Samuel Beckett The Last Modernist (London: Flamingo, 1997), pp. 20, 21.
^ Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p. 279. Referenced in Bryden, M., ‘Beckett and Religion’ in Oppenheim, L., (Ed.) Palgrave Advances in Samuel Beckett Studies (London: Palgrave, 2004), p. 157.
^ Bryden, M., Samuel Beckett and the Idea of God (Basingstoke, Hampshire: Palgrave MacMillan, 1998), introduction.
^ Bair, D., Samuel Beckett: A Biography (London: Vintage, 1990), pp. 409, 410, 405.
^ Boxall, P., "Beckett and Homoeroticism" in in Oppenheim, L., (ed.) Palgrave Advances in Samuel Beckett Studies (London: Palgrave, 2004).
^ a b Beckett 2006, p. 8.
^ a b Beckett 2006, p. 9.
^ Beckett 2006, p. 4.
^ Beckett 2006, p. 11.
^ a b Beckett 2006, p. 13.
^ On the other hand, Didi only learns of this in asking the boy's brother how Godot treats him, which may in itself be seen as a show of compassion.
^ Meeting with Linda Ben-Zvi, December 1987. Quoted in "Introduction" to Ben-Zvi, L., (ed.) Women in Beckett: Performance and Critical Perspectives (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1992), p. x.
^ Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p. 695.
^ "Judge Authorizes All-Female Godot" in New York Times, 6 July 1991.
^ "Beckett estate fails to stop women waiting for Godot" in The Guardian, 4 February 2006.
^ Acco Festival of Alternative Israeli Theatre, 1995 Archive
^ Cohn, R., From Desire to Godot (London: Calder Publications; New York: Riverrun Press, 1998), p 138
^ Ruby Cohn to James Knowlson, 9 August 1994. Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p 378
^ Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p 378
^ Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), pp 386,394
^ Ruby Cohn on the Godot Circle in Knowlson, J. & E., (Ed.) Beckett Remembering – Remembering Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 2006), p 122
^ Cohn, R., From Desire to Godot (London: Calder Publications; New York: Riverrun Press), 1998, pp 153,157
^ Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), pp 387, 778 n 139
^ Interview with Jean Martin, September 1989. Referenced in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), pp 386,387
^ Letter from an unnamed Lüttringhausen prisoner, 1 October 1956. Translated by James Knowlson. Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p 409
^ Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), pp 410,411
^ Ackerley, C. J. and Gontarski, S. E., (Eds.) The Faber Companion to Samuel Beckett (London: Faber and Faber, 2006), pp 620,621
^ A farmer in Roussillon, the village where Beckett fled during World War II; he never worked for the Bonnellys, though he used to visit and purchase eggs and wine there. See Cronin, A., Samuel Beckett The Last Modernist (London: Flamingo, 1997), p 333
^ Ackerley, C. J. and Gontarski, S. E., (Eds.) The Faber Companion to Samuel Beckett, (London: Faber and Faber, 2006), pp 622,623
^ An expression coined by Beckett in which he make the “meaning” less and less clear at each draft. A detailed discussion of Beckett’s method can be found in Pountney, R., Theatre of Shadows: Samuel Beckett’s Drama 1956-1976 (Gerrards Cross: Colin Smythe, 1988) although it concentrates on later works when this process had become more refined.
^ Bair, D., Samuel Beckett: A Biography (London: Vintage, 1990), p 471
^ Letter released under the Freedom of Information Act. Quoted by Peter Hall in ‘Godot Almighty’, The Guardian, Wednesday 24 August 2005
^ Bair, D., Samuel Beckett: A Biography (London: Vintage, 1990), p 613
^ Peter Woodthorpe on the British première of Waiting for Godott in Knowlson, J. & E., (Ed.) Beckett Remembering – Remembering Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 2006), p 122
^ Bull, P., I know the face but …, quoted in Casebook on ‘Waiting for Godot’, pp 41,42. Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p 414
^ Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p 415
^ Peter Hall looks back at the original Godot, Samuel-Beckett.net
^ Cohan, Carol, Broadway By the Bay, (Miami, Florida: The Pickering Press, 1987). p 6.
^ SB to Jérôme Lindon, 18 April 1967. Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p 545
^ Interview with Peter Woodthrope 18 February 1994. Referenced in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), pp 487,488
^ SB to Henry Wenning, 1 January 1965 (St Louis). Quoted in Knowlson, J., Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett (London: Bloomsbury, 1996), p 527
^ http://www.tonyawards.com/en_US/nominees/index.html
^ http://www.thealligatoronline.com/?blog/81
^ http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-news/6087811/Patrick-Stewart-saw-ghost-performing-Waiting-for-Godot.html
^ Mercier, V., Beckett/Beckett (London: Souvenir Press, 1990), p 74
^ Cooke, V., (Ed.) Beckett on File (London: Methuen, 1985), p 14
^ Bair, D., Samuel Beckett: A Biography (London: Vintage, 1990), p 376
^ Bulatović, M., Il est arrive (Paris: Seuil, 1967). Quoted in Cohn, R., From Desire to Godot (London: Calder Publications; New York: Riverrun Press, 1998), p 171
^ Murch, A. C., ‘Quoting from Godot: trends in contemporary French theatre’ in Journal of Beckett Studies, No 9, Spring 1983
[edit] External links
Wikiquote has a collection of quotations related to: Samuel Beckett
Waiting for Godot at the Internet Broadway Database
Waiting for Godot (1977) (TV) at the Internet Movie Database
Waiting for Godot (2001) at the Internet Movie Database
Text of the play (Act I)
Text of the play (Act II)
Act I, part 1, from a Canadian Broadcasting Corporation production (Real Audio)
Act I, part 2, from a Canadian Broadcasting Corporation production (Real Audio)
Godot Quotes and Director's Notes A compendium of quotes geared toward the concept of playing Godot with a slightly more Laurel and Hardyesque bent.
Beckett on Film
Beckett Directs Beckett The San Quentin Drama Workshop
"Waiting for Godot" full play in video (Fr)