Happy International Beckett Day
b.
“I never knew how to play, till now. I longed to, but I knew it was impossible. And yet I often tried. I turned on all the lights, I took a good look all around, I began to play with what I saw. People and things ask nothing better than to play, certain animals too. All went well at first, they all came to me, pleased that someone should want to play with them. If I said, Now I need a hunchback, immediately one came running, proud as punch of his fine hunch that was going to perform. It did not occur to him that I might have to ask him to undress. But it was not long before I found myself alone, in the dark. That is why I gave up trying to play and took to myself for ever shapelessness and speechlessness, incurious wondering, darkness, long stumbling with outstretched arms, hiding. Such is the earnestness from which, for nearly a century now, I have never been able to depart. From now on it will be different. I shall never do anything any more from now on but play. No, I must not begin with an exaggeration. But I shall play a great part of the time, from now on, the greater part, if I can. But perhaps I shall not succeed any better than hitherto. Perhaps as hitherto I shall find myself abandoned, in the dark, without anyone to play with. Then I shall play with myself. To have been able to conceive such a plan is encouraging.”
—Samuel Beckett, Malone Dies
Reader Comments (2)
first, there were a lot of dirty dishes, second i washed most of them, but one drinking glass slipped from my hand and shattered---as i grabbed for it, of course one shard stabbed my palm, so i carefully lifted out the shards from the sink, but, lastly, after i thought the sink was cleared except for suds, holding one stabbed palm close, i reached with my left into the drain to clear it, and found more pieces, which sliced through my fingertip. with both hands in bloody paper towels i type this: "i recognize that garden."
Man, you should've seen the damage I did with a few hot coffee grounds.