rent-in-twain. (marcxy) wrote,

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" the issueless predicament of existence "

who may tell the tale
of the old man?
weigh absence in a scale?
mete want with a span?
the sum assess
of the world's woes?
in words enclose? 

--Samuel Beckett

reading Beckett's plays are as exhausting as ever. the intensity of the play creeps you out, though of course you can choose the easier path of just skimming through; afterall his lines run on. however, the so-called non-sequitor lines are also what forces you to keep going over them, to try to make sense: probably that's the effect he wished to attain. to make you part of the absurd theatrum mundi, to make you just like Gogo and Didi, trying to make sense of the emptiness and lapse in time as they wait for the Godot who never comes. 

that's why i say it's intense. i'm talking in weird sequences already. well, i'm currently reading both Beckett's plays and a commentary on Beckett, quite like a third-person biography of him by John Fletcher, About Beckett: the Playwright and the Work. it's a great book, and really complements your reading of Beckett. also where i got that wonderful poem from. 

alright, hitting the books again. just had to blog about this cuz i just finished Waiting For Godot (and Krapp's Last Tape days before) so i'm feeling rather overwhelmed. 

Tags: &suchmoments

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