Waiting for God, Oh: Shitting on Allegory, Symbolism and Meaning Making

"Samuel Beckett's high-octane thriller "Waiting for Godot" is now an action-packed, explosions-galore video game! Behold the multiplayer! Behold the heart-stomping action! Behold the waiting!" (vector belly)

It took me a long time to digest Waiting for Godot.  I read it--enjoyed it well enough the first time through--but found myself at the end of the play completely confused.  To the point that I had a hard time even asking any vaguely constructive questions about it.  I sat confused for two days.  How could Beckett continue to have this effect on me?

I should have known better.  

So I went back through.  Ditched the dialogue.  Payed attention to stage direction, body position, items that are worn and not worn.  In other words, I gave up trying to understand each little thought and convention.  I surrendered much of my need to make meaning through language.

Obviously, a lot of the idea behind doing this came from what Dr. Betsalel had to say about Beckett when he came to class, though with a small tweak in giving up some of the symbolism.

Things came much easier.

When you cut through some of the proverbial shit, it is easier to gain your first hold on what is happening.  Beckett's dramas differ in this way from his fiction.  In the fiction, there is no way of knowing what physical activity is actually happening due to the unstable voice of the narrators.  This is not so much the case in later fiction like Company, but is more a part of the early trilogy of Molloy, Malone Dies and The Unnamable.

This is something to hang on to, whether the movements of the characters are real or imagined.  This is something to be trusted. Maybe. It is a break from the constant mental ticking of the characters.

So try it some time.  I definitely don't think that's the only way to digest the play, and I am absolutely sure I will enjoy it from a different angle in the near future.

In the meantime.

Tralatralay Pom Pom–Again!

DISCLAIMER: Any views of The Unnameable that are presented in the following blog have likely been contradicted, retracted or otherwise changed at some point in the novel. Please find it in your hearts to accept that the writer of this blog is not responsible for the devious nature of The Unnameable.



The Unnameable longs for company. If only to break through the monotony of his own life. In one of the cases presented in the novel, he imagines seeing a face–if only just a face–breaking through the tedium of his infinite staring.  This was not the way the Unnameable's visitation from Malone transpired. It is possible--as always with the Unnameable--that Malone was every bit as invented as the face he longs to see in the moment we are examining. However, whether that is the case or not is not as important as the Unnameable feels he has no control over Malone and isn't even completely sure that it is Malone at all. With a face that he at the very least believes he has invented, he must set parameters. The visitor may only stay for five minutes–coincidentally, “just the necessary time for hope to be born, languish and die.” These rules fall right in line with the contradictory nature of The Unnameable.

That which he creates must only exist long enough to fill him with hope and be vanquished from existence. This is a sentiment that may be shared by Beckett himself.


“Fortunately it's all a dream.”
This line follows the invention of a face appearing before the Unnameable. It's not a lie, but it is an understatement. This and everything that the reader is able to grab hold of is simply a dream. The things which bring comfort to the Unnameable are dreams; figments. Or not. But if he believes them to be so-given the capability of the mind to hold sway over setting in this world-then that is all they function as to him whether that is what they actually are or not.

The Unnameable remains trapped in endless time. His life goes on and on and on even after the novel comes to a close. And so, many of these apparition, like the ones in Beckett's Company, are simply "devised for company."

As fun as the figments are to fill one's time with, "unfortunately, we must stick to the facts." That's a joke. Thanks Beckett.