Louisiana St ate Universit y [605362]

Louisiana St ate Universit y
LSU Di gital Comm ons
LSU D octoral Di ssertations Graduate Schoo l
2005
Samuel B eckett a nd bi linguali sm: ho w the r etur n to
English influe nces the l ater writing style and ge nde r
roles of A ll that Fall and H appy D ays
Julie n F. Carriere
Louisiana State University and Agricultural and M echanical Co llege, jcarri1@l su.edu
Follow thi s and a dditional w orks at:https://d igitalcommon s.lsu.edu/gr adschoo l_dissertations
Part of the French a nd F rancophone L anguage and L iterature Common s
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Carriere, Julien F., "Samuel Beckett and b ilingualism: ho w the r eturn to English influe nces the l ater writing style and g ender roles of A ll
that Fall and H appy Days" (2005). LSU D octoral Disser tations. 2657.
https://d igitalcommon s.lsu.edu/gr adschoo l_dissertations/2657

SAMUEL BECKETT AND BILINGUALISM:
HOW THE RETURN TO ENGLISH INFL UENCES THE LATER WRITING STYLE
AND GENDER ROLES OF ALL THAT FALL AND HAPPY DAYS

A Dissertation

Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of the
Louisiana State University and
Agricultural and Mechanical College
in partial fulfillment of the
requirements for the degree of
Doctor of Philosophy

in

The Department of French Studies

by
Julien F. Carrière
B.A., Louisiana State University, 1996
M.A., Louisiana State University, 2000
December 2005

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT………………………………………………………………………………iv

CHAPTER 1. BECKETT’S UNIQUE BILINGUALISM……………………………….1
1.1 General Information about Beckett a nd Language English/French/Italian…..4
1.2 Overview of Beckett Criticism………………………………………………11
1.3 Division of Beckett’s Writing into Three Periods…………………………..15
1.4 General Information about Beckett’s First Publications in English…………19
1.5 Critique of Murphy : Plot Structure, Language, and Gender……………..….24
1.6 Conclusion…………………………………………………………………..28
1.7 Notes………………………………………………………………..……….30

CHAPTER 2. THE SWITCH TO FRENCH IN 1945…………………………………..33
2.1 Beckett’s Famous Remarks about Writing in French/English……………….36
2.2 Beckett’s “Exile” to France, Tran slation, and Linguistic Exile……….……..39
2.3 The Relationship with the Mother…………………………………………..44
2.4 Reading of En attendant Godot : Plot Structure, Language, and Gender…….49
2.5 La Dernière bande (Krapp’s Last Tape ) and Creative Impasse …………….80
2.6 Conclusion………………………………………………………………..…83
2.7 Notes…………………………………………………………………………86

CHAPTER 3. THE RETURN TO ENGLISH IN 1956…………………………………88
3.1 General Information about the Late r Plays Composed in English………….91
3.2 An Invitation from the BBC…………………..…………………………….94
3.3 Radio Technique: Voice, Background Sounds, and Music………………….96
3.4 Linda Ben-Zvi’s Women in Beckett on Gender in Beckett………………..101
3.5 Footfalls and May Beckett…………………………………………………106
3.6 Conclusion…………………………………………………………………111
3.7 Notes………………………………………………………………….……114

CHAPTER 4. BECKETT’S ALL THAT FALL ………………………………………116
4.1 Plot Structure: Three Movements………………………………………….118
4.2 Language: Protagonists’ Irish Name s and Biographical References………127
4.3 Familiar Themes: Collapse and Decay…………………………………….131
4.4 Beckett and Schubert, Death and the Maiden………………………………137
4.5 Gender: Mrs. Rooney and Females as Mother, Daughter, and Lover……..144
4.6 Mrs. Rooney and May Beckett…………………………………………….151
4.7 Conclusion…………………………………………………………………153
4.8 Notes……………………………………………………………………….156

CHAPTER 5. BECKETT’S HAPPY DAYS …………………………………………..158
5.1 Plot Structure: Two Movements……………………………………………160
5.2 Language: Failed Attempts to Create a Narrative……………………….…163
5.3 Familiar Themes: Stasis and Decline……………………………………….167
ii

5.4 Happy Days and Inferno , Canto X…………………………………………171
5.5 Winnie and the Stereotype of Women……………………………………..183
5.6 Conclusion…………………………………………………………………185
5.7 Notes……………………………………………………………………….186

CHAPTER 6. CONCLUSION…………………………………………………………188

REFERENCES…………………………………………………………………………193

VITA……………………………………………………………………………………197
iii

ABSTRACT

This dissertation addresses Samuel Becket t’s bilingualism in an effort to better
understand how the author’s use of language a ffected his writing st yle and depiction of
gender in his later writing. Beckett began wr iting in English, switche d to French for the
composition of new works for ten years, and th en returned unexpected ly to English. His
first English works are characterized by stylistic virtuosity, erudition, and misogyny.
Beckett’s adoption of French radically changed his writing. His style became
uncomplicated, spare, and cerebral. Plot st ructure based on a journe y in early works was
abandoned in favor of static situations and dialogue. Women were either ignored or
viewed negatively. In 1956, Beckett re turned to his mother language with All that Fall , a
radio play written for the BBC. Once again, B eckett’s writing style changed drastically.
The setting and language are dist inctively Irish, the plot is built around a trip to the train
station, and the protagonist is a woman. The play verges on being a work of music as a
result of the strong influence of Schubert ’s “Death and the Maiden” and the musical
arrangement of all the sounds a nd language in the play. Another play from the second
English period, Happy Days , displays a more balanced synthesis of style and contains
elements of both the English and French writi ng. It retains the Fren ch period qualities of
static plot and simple language; however, it ha s a female protagonist who may be, in part,
based on the author’s mother. In conclusion, the study of these two plays in the context
of Beckett’s bilingualism shows the influence of the mother tongue on writing style and
the introduction of positive depictions of women.

iv

CHAPTER 1. BECKETT’S UNIQUE BILINGUALISM

This dissertation will develop the thesis that Beckett’s unique bilingualism has a
significant and demonstrable effect on his wr iting style and the at titudes toward women
present in his work. Thus, I take the novel a pproach that Beckett’s works, which may be
viewed as occurring in thr ee distinct periods, are define d by the language he used in
composing the new works of each respective period. The English-French-English pattern
that emerges from this division forms the framework for this study. Beckett’s own remarks on the subject of his switch to French are quite famous, and indeed other critics
before me have studied the implications of this switch to French. However, none have divided his works into a tripartite structure in order to fully explore this change. Furthermore, the other major linguistic shift in his career, the return to English, has been
largely ignored as it relates to his entire body of work. This dissertation will show that
Beckett’s return to English is an equally mo mentous if fortuitous event in his writing
career because it brings together the stylisti c and biographical elements present in his
early English writing with the focused themes of his mature French work.
This first chapter will provide backgr ound information both on Beckett and the
current state of Beckett studies. It will addr ess Beckett’s relationship with the languages
that shaped him personally and professionally. I will demonstrate with specific examples the extent to which Beckett criticism remains largely divided along national lines. This
discussion will state the motivation for the present study and what contribution it will make to the field of Beckett criticism. This historical sketch will provide the proper context for my division of Beckett’s work in to three major periods based on the language
of composition of new works. The latter half of the chapter will discuss the first English
1

period in three specific areas: pl ot structure, language, and ge nder. I will draw examples
from one of Beckett’s most important early works, Murphy .
The second chapter will begin with an introduction that details the circumstances
under which Beckett began to compose new wo rks exclusively in French. Although the
evidence shows this shift to be quite gra dual, it was one of which Beckett was well
aware. The author’s own remarks about wr iting in French and English will then be
analyzed. I will take up what some have called Beckett’s “self-imposed” exile and
examine what aspects of French drew Beckett to the language and, at the same time, what
qualities of English repelled him. Many cri tics claim Beckett’s ongoing battles with his
mother were the main reason for his flight to France and, hence, I will address this
relationship. In the latter ha lf of the chapter I will presen t a thorough readi ng of the work
I consider most representative of the French period, En attendant Godot .
The third chapter recounts Beckett’s unexp ected return to English in 1955. I
begin with a description of the author’s la ter works in English and the major ways in
which they differ from his work in Frenc h. Next, I address both the creative problems
Beckett seemed to be facing at the end of the French period as well as the request he
received from the BBC for a work in Englis h, which opened up a new avenue of creative
possibilities. Not only was this play to be different by being in E nglish, but also by being
a radio play. Beckett had not previously worked in this medium and he became deeply
interested in the spec ial challenges and opportunities it pr omised. This chapter concludes
with a focused treatment of gender issues in Beckett’s work, based largely on Linda Ben-
Zvi’s germinal work, Women in Beckett , in addition to a review of the biographical
elements that recall Beckett’s mother in the play Footfalls .
2

Chapters 4 and 5 are devoted entirely to two works by Beckett, the radio play All
that Fall and the play Happy Days . In each chapter, I develop the discussion of these two
works in parallel fashion, addressing point by point the plot structure, language, themes,
female protagonist, and echoes of Beckett’ s mother. This provides an extensive
mechanical analysis that may be evaluated against the backdrop of Beckett’s early work
in English and mature French work, as discussed in previous chapters.
The final chapter of the st udy draws several conclusions from the analysis of
Beckett’s unique bilingualism that manifested itself over his entire wr iting career. I argue
that if Beckett’s conscious choice to compose fiction in Fr ench represents a strategic
departure from the style and themes of his work s first composed in English, his efforts in
the French period provide many clues as to wh at Beckett wants to purge from his writing.
Even a cursory examination of the French texts, such as En Attendant Godot , shows that
Beckett strips away the patent autobiogra phical elements and the playful and poetic
language that had characterized his earlier work. Throughout the French period Beckett’s
use of the language to peel away the layers of unnecessary details in his prose perfectly
complements his use of narrativ e techniques to the same end. Ultimately, however, this
effort stalls and when Beckett finds himself in what some critics have called a creative
impasse, he receives a request from the BBC fo r a new play in English. This unexpected
event precipitates his return to English and with it a change in writing style. Childhood
memories appear and a reinvigorated influe nce of music and poetry can be felt in the
writing, in particular from Schube rt and Dante, respectively. Indeed, the town setting of
All that Fall is a close parallel to his own hometown of Foxr ock and, I will argue, is
largely based on the sonata musical form, sp ecifically, Schubert’s sonata “Death and the
3

Maiden.” As for the influence of poetry, re ferences to Dante can be found in many of
Beckett’s works, none so much as in Happy Days , which follows the structure of Dante’s
meeting of Farinata and Calvacante in Inferno X.
With the return to English comes the emergence of fully developed female
protagonists heretofore abse nt in his writing. The stylisti c pitfalls that Beckett had
claimed he was trying to avoid with the swit ch to French, along with some new elements,
emerge when Beckett returns to English. Fu rthermore, writing once again in his mother
tongue allows Beckett to come full circle in his writing style without sacrificing the
textual economy and thematic focus French afforded him.
1.1 General Information about Beckett and Language: English/French/Italian
A thorough study of Beckett’s bilingualism must take into account all of the
languages he spoke and studied. Many volumes of critical work are devoted to Beckett’s
relationship to his acquired languages: French, Italian, and, to some extent, German.
Specifically, critics tend to re ly on Beckett’s French when searching out aesthetic and
stylistic influences, on his Italian when tracking down sources, and on German when
considering the plays for which he oversaw production in Germany. And yet, many
critics take for granted his relationship to E nglish. The complex relationship Beckett had
with English provides an invaluable point of departure for a study of individual works as
well as a helpful backdrop for understanding the linguistic shifts that take place over the
course of his writing career. Beckett’s relationship to his mother tongue is an
indispensable element of the present study.
Before one may consider Beckett’s membership in the Anglophone community, it
is worthwhile to treat this linguistic issu e exhaustively and consider his link to the
4

language of his ancestors, G aelic. Though the centuries-long British colonial period
brought about the virtual destruction of Gaelic by the time Beckett was born, it remains
an influence, albeit minor, on his writing.
One critic, Ann Beer, in her essay “Becket t’s Bilingualism,” does ra ise this issue.
Beer emphasizes that Beckett was born into a linguistically divided nation and that this
division is of central importanc e to Irish culture. The nationalist movement that was so
prominent during Beckett’s lifet ime highlights this fact. Th e ancient Celtic culture and,
in particular, the Gaelic language have served to unify resistance to British dominance around an almost mythic past. The dual li nguistic/nationalist struggle of the early
twentieth century in Ireland is a major influence on Irish writers, including Samuel
Beckett. This was a time of great upheaval and political turmoil. The Irish Republican
Army is organized by Michael Collins from what is left of the rebels after the failed
Easter Rebellion in 1916. And in 1922, the Irish Free State is established.
Indeed, Beckett makes linguistic references to the Irish nati onalist movement in
his later play, All that Fall , which I will examine in detail in Chapter four. One must not,
however, overestimate the importance of these el ements in Beckett’s work, for it is clear
that Beckett was born into a wealthy English-speaking Protestant family and embraced neither the Gaelic language nor the Irish na tionalist movement. Fo r Beer, the existence
of Gaelic is most important for allowing Beck ett to view English as one of many possible
languages in which to work a nd develop as an intellectual.
1 Beer sums up Beckett’s
early period of linguistic expl oration when she writes, “In both critical and imaginative
writing, he seemed to grasp th at the ‘old ego,’ both ‘ministe r of dullness’ and ‘agent of
security’ ( PTD , 21), could be left behind, and the new ego welcomed, through the shifts
5

of consciousness and expre ssion that an acquired language made possible.”2 Here, Beer
is quoting phrases from Beckett’s early monograph Proust that demonstrate both traces of
his future creative/intellectual efforts and the vehicle (French) of their accomplishment.
Beer further points out the motivational for ce behind such a linguistic switch when she
quotes More Pricks than Kicks , “Perhaps only the French la nguage can give you the thing
you want,” remarking that Beckett’s personal ne eds as a writer justif y the change. What
are these needs and what is the “thing” Beckett wants? Is it an escape from the
overwhelming wealth of connotations and tende ncy towards poetry that English presents?
Does he want an entirely new means of expr ession, a foreign language that, like a tool in
his hands, can be consciously manipulated? Does Beckett want to escape his mother and
his homeland? All these issues are at the hear t of this examination of Beckett’s work.
An important aspect of the thesis outlined above is that Beckett chooses to use French to explore metaphysical and autobiographical que stions he could not face in English until
his unexpected return to his mother tongue at the end of the French period. These questions will be addressed in the following chap ters. But first it is necessary to provide a
linguistic context for these arguments.
At this point it is useful to observe several basic differences between English and
French in order to better consider Beckett’s use of both languages. The following
remarks focus primarily on Beckett’s self-tra nslations when comparing his writing in one
language with the other. This may assist in the study of Beckett’s tr anslations of his own
work, but, it must be made clear that Beckett’ s self-translations are not the focus of this
dissertation. I am interested here in th e differences between the two languages,
6

specifically those qualities of French that ma y have initially motivated Beckett’s switch
to French.
Lance St. John Butler, in his article “Two Darks: A Solution to the Problem of
Beckett’s Bilingualism,” takes the unorthodox vi ew that the divergence between original
works and Beckett’s own translations result s from “the radical incommensurability of
languages” and the impossibility of transl ation rather than authorial intention.3 Butler
has recourse to the French study, “Stylistique comparée du Français et de l’Anglais”, by
J.P. Vinay and J. Darbelnet when demonstr ating the differing natures of English and
French. He develops the c onvincing argument that Beckett did not intentionally change
second versions of his work to make them clearer or rethink his ear lier ideas, as some
critics have maintained, but made changes simply because of the “external imperatives of
language, culture and self-consistency.”4
Butler, citing a fundamental tenet of structuralism, claims that a comprehensive
mastery of any text, much less a bilingual one , is impossible. Butler sets out his goal
thus, “I shall argue in this paper that the im possibility of a ‘definitive study’ of Beckett’s
bilingualism is only a special case of the general impossibility of managing a ‘definitive study’ of any text and that the de finitive as telos is a chimera.”
5 Butler widens the field
of inquiry from differences between Beckett’ s French or English to differences between
the French and English languages themselves . In doing so, he enumerates Vinay and
Darbelnet’s seven “procédés de traduction” or “methods of translation” in ascending
order of difficulty. These are, “emprunt ” or “borrow,” “calque” or “word-for-word
correspondence,” “traduction lit térale” or “literal transl ation,” “transposition” or
“transposition,” “modulation” or “modulat ion,” “équivalence” or “equivalence,” and
7

“adaptation” or “adaptation.” Moving from one category to the next requires a greater
knowledge of culture and language. For example, on the first level one might translate
the borrowed word “hamburger” from French to English without change, while at the
highest level one would tran slate an idiomatic expression such as “fumer comme un
pompier,” literally, “smoke like a fireman” to “smoke like a chimney.”
Butler synthesizes the follo wing five generalizations about French and English
from Vinay and Darbelnet’s remarks:
French has more “animisme” than English, this being defined as a
“démarche de la langue qui tend à donner aux choses le comportement
des personnes” or “linguistic method that tends to assign things the behavior of people.”

French operates on the “plan de l’entendement” or “realm of understanding/consciousness” and w ith abstraction rather than on
English’s preferred “plan du réel” or “realm of the real ” which involves
the concrete – among many examples we can cite “dress rehearsal” for “répétition générale.” French requires more “education” than English –
Vinay and Darbelnet give the ex ample of an “eye-witness” who
becomes “un témoin oculaire.”

English has a certain “besoin du dynamisme”or “need for dynamism” –
“J’arrive” needs prepositions: “I’ll be right over” or “right along” or
“right up” or “right down.”

French can be more concise than English.6

“Gains et pertes” or “gains and lo sses”: English and French do not fit
over one another neatly; there are nuances available to an English
speaker unavailable to a Francoph one and vice-versa. One language
will add something that the other, when the text is translated back
again, will have to lose.7

Butler continues with examples from Beck ett’s texts and self -translations that
illustrate the above-listed differences between French and English. One of the more
striking examples is taken from the first novel of the trilogy, Molloy , and is used to show
“Transposition” at work. The two versions ar e: “Enfin, il faut sans doute,” and “Well, I
suppose you have to.” Butler explains that “I suppose” is a natural transposition of “il
8

faut sans doute.” However, in French ther e is no subject pronoun and, more importantly,
“I suppose” is the literal opposite of “sans doute” or “without doubt.”
I will not outline all of Butler’s examples, yet I will review the main differences
between the opposing critical views of Butler a nd Fitch regarding Beckett’s bilingualism.
Essentially, Fitch views Beckett’s two versions as the same work in two texts. As Butler
points out, this view relies on authorial intentionality to posit some supernatural reality
that is expressed in a given language. In more concrete terms, one may think of two
texts, A and B, expressing the reality, C, in two different languages. Butler unequivocally
rejects the possibility of what Fitch calls a “transcende ntal signified” when studying
Beckett’s bilingualism.
Here is a quote from Butler that sums up his thesis well. “Where he [Beckett]
appears to make a change or to develop a t hought or simply to omit or add gratuitously, it
is most likely that he is responding not to an in ternal imperative to re vise earlier work but
to the external imperatives of language, culture, and self-con sistency.” Aside from his
convincing examples, Butler’s view also fits well with the oft-repe ated description of
Beckett as a tireless and exact ing craftsman who worked meticulously on his texts until
he felt they were acceptable. Otherwise, he reje cted them. If this is an accurate portrayal
of his work ethic when creating new fiction, there is no reason to believe this would
change when he turned to the translation of his own works.
Butler’s discussion of Marjorie Perlo ff’s essay, “Une Voix pas la mienne:
French/English Beckett and the French/Engl ish Reader” in Friedman’s collection8 is
important in regard to the vi ew of Beckett’s bilingualism I de velop in this dissertation. I
agree with Butler’s view that Perloff is s ubstantially in agreement with Fitch that
9

Beckett’s translations are “diffe rent texts” from the originals. But what I am interested in
is his treatment of her explanation of why the translations differ from the originals.
Butler agrees that the intertextual references of one literature do not work in another and
therein finds support for his incommensurabilit y thesis. Yet, he disagrees when Perloff
suggests that Beckett is aware of the di fferences between English and French and
consciously uses them to his advantage. He also strongly disagrees when Perloff suggests
that Beckett’s mood is noticeably different wh en he writes in one language or the other
and then attributes this to his different expe riences in each socio-li nguistic setting: Ireland
where childhood and education equal happiness and France where maturity and war equal
angst. Of this comment, Butler writes, “But the biographical explan ation is very doubtful
when compared to the solid f act of linguistic incommensurability…. It was the languages
that wrote him, not he the languages.”9 Once again, Butler emphasizes Beckett’s
conformity to the linguistic a nd cultural exigencies of the French language. His view is
essentially ontological. Ultimately, both positions are supported with convincing
arguments, and yet I do not see them as mutua lly exclusive. Therefore, I would seek a
middle ground that allows for both visions of Beckett’s bilingualism. Certainly, as Butler
makes clear, the nature of language, in this case, the English and French languages,
makes “definitive” translations impossible. However, it is not unreasonable to suggest that a master of languages such as Becke tt would be aware of these differences and
choose one language over the other for his work, at least in the beginning.
This discussion of the differences between French and English in the specific
context of translation has served to highlight those characteristics of French that Beckett
favored in his writing and found most useful . The animism, education, and economy of
10

French seem to jibe well with Beckett’s ow n personality and mature style of writing.
Later, I will develop the argument that Becket t made the conscious choice to switch to
French in 1945 because it suited his overall project as a writer and allowed him to strip
away unnecessary layers of meaning in his wr iting. When he return ed to English, though
the decision to switch was facili tated by an unforeseen request, the effect on the writing
of the mother tongue is the same: more auto biographical, more poetic and lighter, more
colloquially humorous.
1.2 Overview of Beckett Criticism
A highly unusual state of affairs exists in Beckett studies today. It is a
commonplace in the field that the English- a nd French-speaking worlds have two very
distinct views of Beckett that have developed largely along li nguistic boundaries. This in
turn has given rise to two major sch ools of criticism, one Anglophone and one
Francophone. There are also burgeoning bodi es of German and Italian criticism;
however, for this bilingual study I will limit the scope of inquiry to the Anglophone and
Francophone publics.10 Limiting this analysis to th e languages and cultures in which
Beckett primarily lived and worked will allow me to explain more adequately the need
for the present study in Beckett criticism.
As Brian Fitch points out in his book, Beckett and Babel: An Investigation into
the Status of the Bilingual Work , two distinct and very differe nt critical discourses have
developed in response to Beckett’s work.11 During the early part of his career as a
writer, Beckett published onl y in English and was naturally known only to the
Anglophone public. His collection of loosely connected short stories, More Pricks than
Kicks , his poems, his critical piece on Proust, and his first novel Murphy placed him in
11

what Fitch terms the “long tr adition of English language wr iters, going from Sterne to
Joyce.”12 Indeed Beckett is often compared w ith his Irish contemporary, James Joyce.
Several important studies linking them are Four Dubliners: Wilde, Yeats, Joyce and
Beckett , by Richard Ellman, Beckett and Joyce: Friendship and Fiction by Barbara
Gluck, and Flaubert, Joyce and Beckett; the Stoic Comedians by Hugh Kenner. What is
important here is not so much the conclusions drawn by one study or another, but rather
the writers and literature with whom Beckett is associated by these literary critics. For
instance, the examples cited above all include Joyce, which seems remarkable given how
vastly different the two authors’ mature styles are. Beckett’s writing during the French
period and beyond attains an unparalleled te xtual economy, bareness, and minimalism,
while Joyce’s work is so rich and so filled with obscure language, allusions, and puzzles
that the author once quipped that Ulysses would “keep the professors busy for
centuries.”13 Beckett’s early work, however, does clearly show the influence of James
Joyce.
When Beckett began publishing in Fran ce, specifically when he published the
trilogy in French from 1951 to 1953, the French public, as well as its critics, associated
him with his publishing house, Jérôme Lindon’ s Editions de Minuit, and the remarkable
group of authors linked with it. Thus, French critics consider B eckett to be among the
avant-garde creators of the Nouveau Roman, like Alain Robbe-Grillet ( Les Gommes
1953, Le Voyeur 1955.) The scope of this dissertation does not allow for a detailed
analysis of Robbe-Grillet, yet it is worthwhile to note that he experiments with space and
time in his works. Another avant-garde writer associated with Lindon was Nathalie Sarraute (
Martereau 1953, Portrait d'un Inconnu 1947). Beckett’s trilogy can easily be
12

seen to take part in the larg er effort by these writers to rework the novel and conventional
ideas of plot, chronology, characterization, and narrative point of view.
Further complicating the state of Beckett criticism is the fact that many of the
early English texts were not translated into French or translated only very late. Fitch
writes, “All the early material th at roots Beckett so clearly in the Irish literary tradition is
unknown to the vast majority of the French pub lic and the critics that serve it, and this
fact cannot but have a beari ng on their overall appreciati on of his achievement as a
writer.”14 Fitch also notes that because of the or der of publication and late translations,
the French public has read much of Beckett’s earlier work in the light of his more famous
works published first in French in the 1950s. Fitch, however, is concerned in his study
with determining the status of the second vers ions of Beckett’s works, translated by the
author whether they be in English or French.
The state of Beckett criticism is also addressed in the book Critique of Beckett
Criticism: A Guide to Research in English, French and German , by Murphy, P.J., et al.
The tome presents an exhaustive survey of Beckett criticism incl uding bibliographies,
manuscripts, editions, periodicals, and special st udies. The survey is organized into three
main chapters according to language – English, French, and German. The book begins with a short introduction and ends with an even shorter conclusion (three paragraphs.)
The authors state their aim in the preface to “g ive an overview of the state of the art in
Beckett criticism by supplying more than an annotated bibliography.”
15 They hardly
succeed. The authors, in the introduction, focu s on the German criticism as the most
important, claiming that the English work ha s reached a “theoretical crossroads” and
dismissing the French studies as having “ebbed dramatically.”
13

Although the authors give insi ghtful reviews of the ma jor and even some minor
studies of Beckett in the three languages , they completely ignore the lack of
communication between critics in these langua ges except to note with disapproval that
the majority of the German work is unknown to English-speaking cr itics. Unfortunately,
this book does not achieve more than a well-annotated bibliography of the works of
Beckett criticism in three languages and worse, furthers the bias of schools of criticism
divided along linguistic lines by structuring the study accordi ngly. The conclusion to the
book leaves something to be desired when its authors write, “This guide to research
should, above all, have made two points very clear: a great deal of valuable work has
been accomplished in the three tr aditions surveyed; a great deal more remains to be done”
and again when, in poor imitation of Beckett they write, “but the struggle to find and give
new meanings to his works must go on, it will go on.”16
One final example of the disarray of B eckett studies can be drawn from Helen
Astbury’s essay, “Samuel Beckett’s (Linguistic ) Exile: Continuity th rough Separation.”
In this essay, Astbury briefl y reviews one striking example of the existing confusion in
Beckett studies when she points out that in at least one library in Ireland the whole of
Beckett’s work is classified under the cla ss mark 842 which, in the Dewey classification
system, is reserved for French theater. This may be the expected classification for works originally written in French such as the trilogy or
En attendant Godot . However, it is
remarkable, to say the least, that works such as Dream of Fair to Middling Women , More
Pricks than Kicks and Worstward Ho should be found there since, as Astbury makes
clear, these works were written in English but never translated by Beckett into French.17
14

Astbury implies that what began as Beckett’s exile from Ireland has been carried on by
the critics and librarians who unjustly exclude his works from the Irish literary canon.
From these examples one may conclude th at the field of Beck ett criticism lacks
studies of Beckett as a primarily bilingual writ er that address in a comprehensive way his
use of language over time. Critics have su ccumbed to the temptation to categorize his
work into one tradition or another and pro ceed accordingly. The few works that have
been done that take into account Beckett’s bilingualism concern translation and particularly Beckett’s self-translations. These studies seek to determine the status of one
version or another and remain limited to individual texts and their translations.
The present study seeks to explore Beckett’s bilingualism as it is manifested in his
choice of one language or another for the first version of a work. When one considers the
first language for Beckett’s works, a definite pattern emerges that may shed some light on
those works as well as Beckett’s creative end eavors over time. Before that can be done,
it is necessary to provide more context a nd examine Beckett’s relationships with the
countries where the author would spend most of his life, Ireland and France.
1.3 Division of Beckett’s Writing into Three Periods
Some brief biographical de tails can be useful in determining Beckett’s
relationship with the French language. Clearly, Beckett’s interest in France dates to his
early education and intellectual curiosity. B eckett studied French and Italian at Trinity
College, Dublin and excelled in both. Later tr ips to France were in part motivated by his
desire to improve his speaking ability in French. James Knowlson, in his biography,
Damned to Fame , describes Beckett’s first visit to France in August 1926 as fitting in
well with the young man’s literary interests.18 For this visit, Beckett planned a bicycle
15

tour of Touraine with visits to Loire Valley chateaux and seve ral literary landmarks of the
many writers who had lived there, such as Ronsard, Rabelais, and Descartes. Beckett’s
lifelong interest in France and the French language are direct ly related to his literary
interests and aspirations in both languages. The trip in 1926 is notable for being Beckett’s first; however, he would continue to travel back and forth between France and
Ireland, with the majority of his time spent in France, for the rest of his life. He would eventually make Paris his permanent home in 1937. The writer’s love for France and
French can perhaps be best gleaned from his actions during the war.
As will be noted below in a discussion of Beckett’s own comments about French
and France, Beckett famously claimed to pr efer France in war to Ireland in peace.
During the occupation, Beckett stayed in Paris when he could have easily fled to Ireland
because of that country’s neutrality. Inst ead, Beckett was a member of a cell of the
resistance for which he worked as a secret ary and courier. Beck ett’s cell, codenamed
Gloria SMH after the alias of its founding me mber, Jeannine Picabia, and the reversed
initials of “His Majesty’s Service,” had agents and contacts throughout the occupied zone. Some members collected informa tion on troop movement and mobilization by
observing naval activity in th e ports of Normandy and Br ittany while others were
specialists capable of providing counterfeit documents and identity cards. Others took photographs of troop deployments and enemy positions.
Beckett’s role was to collect information fr om agents in the field, sort it, and type
it. Once he had a full page, he would ta ke it to another member who would use
photographic equipment to produce miniaturi zed copies the size of a matchbox. This
information was then smuggled to the unoccupied zone by Madame Picabia, the
16

respectable widow of a famous painter a nd a very unlikely Resistance agent. As
Knowlson remarks, this job re quired a great deal of tran slation and organization. In
addition to this, Beckett had to condense reports as much as possible in order to fit the
most information into the least space. Agen ts who read these reports in England noted
the combination of clarity and sheer volume of his work.
Eventually, Beckett’s cell was betrayed and of the estimated eighty members,
fifty were picked up by the Germans in A ugust and September, 1942. When Beckett’s
close friend Alfred Peron was a rrested, his wife Mania sent B eckett a warning in a thinly
disguised telegram that rea d, “Alfred arrêté par Gestapo. Prière faire nécessaire pour
corriger l’erreur”, “Alfred arre sted by Gestapo. Please do what is necessary to correct the
error.”19 Within just a few hours of receiving the message, Beckett warned as many of
his friends as possible and he and his compan ion Suzanne went into hiding. Initially,
they stayed in various safe houses in Paris. Knowlson recounts the interesting anecdote
that during this time Beckett and Suzanne hid out for ten days with Nathalie Sarraute and
her husband, who were on vacation. Even tually, however, the couple came to the
conclusion that they should make an atte mpt to cross into the unoccupied zone.
Approximately six weeks after going underground, Beckett and Suzanne made their way
to the village of R oussillon. Beckett would spend the next three years in hiding and
although under such circumstances writing was impossible, his knowledge of rural
French life and language expanded. He surviv ed through hard farm work with villagers
who spoke no English. Nor did his companion speak much English. In short, for an
extended period of time, French was the langu age of Beckett’s everyday life. Later,
17

traces of the knowledge gained from this time in the French countryside would appear in
his French writing.
What little writing Beckett did in Rous illon during his time there was done on
Watt , a novel he had begun in English. For Beck ett, writing in French began in earnest
after the war, especially during the period from 1946 to 1953. Beckett produced an
immense amount of new work during this pe riod, which has led James Knowlson to call
this time “a frenzy of writing.” Brian Fitch, in his book, Beckett and Babel: An
Investigation into the Stat us of the Bilingual Work , discusses Beckett’s work during this
time with an emphasis on the author’s choice of language for the first version of a work.
What is important for the pres ent study, however, is that Fitc h lists Beckett’s works, the
language in which they were first composed, and date of first publication. What emerges
from this analysis is that B eckett limited himself to using only French for first versions of
new works during a period of ten years. Fitch points out that Beckett himself says as
much when he comments on this prolific period in a letter dated 15 August 1947,
addressed to George Reavey. Reavey had wr itten Beckett to tell him of the publisher
Hamish Hamilton’s interest in his work in progress. Beckett responded, “All I would
have to offer in English being translations from my own French. Perhaps to encourage
him with Watt [the manuscript of which he had s ubmitted to the publisher], I should say I
expect soon to resume writing in English, than which until now few things are less likely.”
20
This crucial piece of information is the basis for this study’s division of Beckett’s
career into three periods duri ng which his choice of language for a first work follows the
pattern, English-French-English. While other critics mention this ten-year period or
18

divide Beckett’s career into periods of differing lengths, the divisions that form the
structure for this study are unique.21 This tripartite division of Beckett’s career allows for
a study of his bilingualism on a greater scale, one that takes into account long periods of
time and is not limited to first and second versions of the same work.
1.4 General Information about Beckett’s First Publications in English
As stated above, Beckett’s early publicati ons root him in the English literary
tradition. Critics argue that these works show the influence of other writers, especially
James Joyce. Before I move on to an examin ation of one important work from this early
period, Murphy , some general remarks need to be made about Beckett’s early writing in
English and, specifically, his treatment of pl ot structure, language, and gender. These
remarks will provide the necessa ry context for the analysis of the novel that closes this
chapter while simultaneously providing a point of comparison for the French works and
Beckett’s return to English.
It is important to note that Beckett was himself aware of how radically different
his prewar and postwar writing were. In fact, after he had become famous he put off
publishing More Pricks than Kicks , written in 1934, until the late 1960s. And he did not
allow publication of Dream of Fair to Middling Women (written in 1932) until after his
death. These are not the only examples of B eckett’s reluctance to publ ish his early work.
David Pattie argues in his book, The Complete Critical Guide to Samuel Beckett , that
Beckett simply felt these works were not good enough. This is not surprising, for Beckett
was rarely satisfied with his work and seems to sum up his outlook in Worstword Ho ,
written and published in English in 1983, in which he writes, “Try again. Fail again. Fail
better.”22 On the topic of his early writing, Deir dre Bair quotes Becket t’s description of
19

himself at that time as someone, “with the itch to make and nothing to say.”23 Without
doubt, Beckett was unsatisfied wi th much of his early work that Pattie describes as
“radically different in tone and approach” from his more famous works. What are these
differences in the early writing and how are they transformed over time in Beckett’s mature work? The first part of this ques tion may be addressed by considering the areas
of plot structure, language, and gender. Th e latter half of the que stion will be answered
in the chapters that follow.
The plot structure of the early works te nds to be relatively conventional as
compared with the author’s later works in both French and English. This is not to say that these are easy books to read, for they re main highly experimental and often difficult
to follow. Ultimately, however, they retain recognizable characters, locations, and rely on the British trope of the journe y to move the plot forward.
A good example is Beckett’s posthumously published first novel, Dream of Fair
to Middling Women , an autobiographical work set in Dublin, Ireland. The story of
Beckett’s first antihero, Be lacqua Shuah, whom the publis her (Calder Books) calls an
alter-ego for the author, is narrated by a Mr. Beckett. The reader follows Belacqua’s meanderings through Dublin and Europe that ar e loosely structured around his series of
girlfriends (the Smeraldina-Rima, the Frica, the Syracusa, and the Alba.) For Pattie,
these women are all modeled on women Becket t knew at this time (Peggy Sinclair, Mary
Manning Howe, Lucia Joyce, and Ethna MacCarthy.)
24 These are not the only characters
in the novel with real life analogues. James Knowlson remarks, “For many of the figures
who appear in the novel are closely based on people whom he knew – in some cases
much too closely for this not to have b een a source of embarrassment to the older
20

Beckett, who, after several init ial attempts to get it published, became extremely reluctant
to see it appear during hi s own and their lifetimes.”25
Pattie notes two ways in which Beckett ad dresses the problem of generating a plot
in the face of a protagonist so overcome with inertia. First, Beckett surrounds his central
character with what Pattie calls “comic gr otesques” and, second, Beckett himself intrudes
in the text with his own comments and concerns.26
Beckett’s fascination with language is ev ident in this early writing. Knowlson
comments, “As well as using dictionaries and reference books, Beckett wove into his
novel hundreds of quotations from other work s of literature, philosophy, and theology.”27
This novel is characterized by the frequent use of esoteric and abstruse words, along with
a tendency toward long and grammatically comple x sentences. There are also references
to other languages in the fo rm of names and quotes, particularly French and Italian.
Knowlson calls the book “Joycean in its ambition and accumulative technique.”28 David
Pattie also believes Beckett’s use of language comes from Joyce’s influence and writes,
“As mentioned in the first sec tion, Beckett was indebted to Jo yce as an artistic example
and role model [12-13], and even though th e tone and underlying preoccupations in
Beckett’s work are radically different from those of the older writer, the young Beckett
shared Joyce’s love of arcane, obs cure, and highly allusive language.”29 Beckett’s
collection of short stories, More Pricks than Kicks , provides abundant examples of
Beckett’s enthusiasm for striking and unusual lan guage. In addition to sections written in
Spanish, French, and German, one need only read the narrator’s description of the Frica,
The eyehole is clogged with the bulbous, the round pale
globe goggles exposed. Solitary meditation has furnished
her with nostrils of generous bore. The mouth champs an
invisible bit, foam gathers at the bitter commissures. The
21

crateriform brisket, lipped with sills of paunch, cowers
ironically behind a maternity tunic. Keyholes have wrung
the unfriendly withers, the osseous rump screams behind the hobble-skirt. Wastes of woad worsted advertise the patterns. Aïe!
30

While not all of Beckett’s early works were this obscure, the alliteration and
pitiless satire in this text are fairly represen tative of his early styl e. Here a woman is
cruelly described with a voca bulary and style one would expect to be used for a farm
animal. Her eyes bulge and nostrils flare. As if this were not enough, she foams at the
mouth like some rabid dog. She has unsightly rolls of fat on an altogether disgusting
body. Here, one finds an example of harsh treatment of the female that is characteristic
of this period in his work.
Consequently, the female characters ar e often left undeveloped and result in
sketches of prostitutes or other unfavorable stereotypes of femininity, which leads to the
final element to be considered, gender. Susan Brienza, in her essay, “Clods, Whores,
and Bitches: Misogyny in Beckett’s Early Fic tion,” writes, “A concentrated reading of
the early fiction reveals a disturbing negativ e depiction of female characters: coupled
with a pervasive disgust, cruel humor, and Sw iftian revilement towa rd her physicality is
the idea that woman as a clod of earth impedes intellectual man.”31 Brienza, by way of a
close reading of the early fiction, focusing on More Pricks than Kicks , Murphy , and Watt ,
builds the argument that Beckett alternates between two opposing views of women, each
of which is equally based on stereotypes. The first category is the sensual woman overly concerned with matters of appearance a nd the second is the repellant woman who
possesses unrivaled ugliness, to the point of physical deform ity. In the fiction, the ugly
woman is to be ridiculed and the beautiful woman feared. Brienza argues that for
22

Beckett’s Cartesian heroes, nothing is to be gained intellectually or spiritually from
physical love. Romantic love is no better and serves only to distract the male from his
more noble endeavors.32
Brienza is careful when discussing the mi sogynistic overtones of this early work
to differentiate the narrator from the author . Drawing the line between these two is one
of literature’s oldest and most difficult questions. It is especially difficult to work this out
in the case of Beckett because of the many au tobiographical details a nd intrusions of the
author in the early texts. On e thing is certain: Beckett shel ters his male protagonists from
the bitter humor and satire that is almost alwa ys directed at the female characters. While
Brienza’s argument is quite convincing, one weak point is her assertion that Beckett’s use
of the definite pronoun when naming the women in More Pricks than Kicks serves to
reduce, demean, and objectify them. The explanation for the names the Frica, the Alba
and the Venerilla, may simply come from spoken Italian where this usage is frequent,
endearing, and reserved for wo men. Of course, this detail does not disprove Brienza’s
thesis but simply offers an alte rnative explanatio n of one point.
As Brienza notes, Beckett’s early fiction is heavily popul ated with prostitutes.
The frica, the unnamed previous occupant of Murphy’s apartment, and Murphy’s
girlfriend Celia are all prostitutes. The fact that these women have sex as their livelihood
further associates women with the body rather than the mind. A Cartesian split between man/mind and woman/body seems to operate in thes e works. While this is the case in the
early works, I shall demonstrate that this attitude toward women changes dramatically
when Beckett returns to English and creates powerful female protagonists that rival in
depth, complexity, and suffering any of the males.
23

1.5 Critique of Murphy : Plot Structure, Language, and Gender
Beckett’s first novel, Murphy , may be considered repr esentative of Beckett’s
early English works and will be scrutinized here with the intention of identifying its most
significant characteristics. In his essay, “Murphy and the Uses of Repetition,” Rubin
Rabinovitz points out a host of recurring episodes and symmetries in Beckett’s novel. He
also notes that early on the book was considered “unchallenging” and that this resulted in
part from Beckett’s own comments when he said, “It’s my easiest book, I guess.”33 Of
course, any apparent simplicity belies th e book’s highly structured complexity, for
Beckett also called it “slightly obscure” and “hard to follow.”34 I will limit my analysis
to three specific areas: plot structure, language, and gender. The results of this
investigation will be used to compare this peri od of Beckett’s writing with the later work.
This particular novel, though very difficult and at times hard to follow, retains a relatively
conventional plot structure that tells the st ory of Murphy, an eccentric man who struggles
to support his prostitute mistress and ev entually goes mad and blows himself up.
The novel opens with Murphy sitting naked in his rocking chair. He ties himself
to the chair to give his body pleasure and to free his mind. In the chair, he is able to
attain an almost total isolation of the mind, yet he seeks to go further and completely shut
out the world. The narrator informs us th at Murphy is a Cartesian, “Thus Murphy felt
himself split in two, a body and a mind.”35 Murphy seeks the peace and calm of a total
retreat into the mind where he may be unconcerned with the chaos of the world
surrounding him. Midway through the novel Beckett offers a detailed description of this
aspect of Murphy.
24

The sixth chapter of the novel is devo ted to an explanation of “Murphy’s
Mind.”36 One specific strategy Beckett uses to mo ve the plot forward here is to borrow
the structure of Dante’s Inferno . Murphy’s mind, like Dante’s vision of hell, is described
as a series of concentric circles. The narra tor tells us, “Murphy’s mi nd pictured itself as a
large hollow sphere, hermetically closed to the universe without.”37 This sphere is
further divided into three zone s of increasing depth called light , half light, and dark. To
move from one sphere to the next is to m ove away from the recognizable forms of the
world toward a chaos of being. Murphy seeks to isolate himself from the world in the
deepest zone of his mind where he is without will or desire and utterly indifferent to
everything around him.
When Murphy takes a job as a nurse at the Magdalene Mental Mercy seat, he
meets a patient there, a Mr. Endon, whose psyc hosis makes him completely unreachable.
Murphy envies Mr. Endon and recognizes his de tachment from the world as his ultimate
goal. Murphy is fascinated with this impert urbable patient and attempts to engage him
through games of chess, Mr. Endon’s only frivol ity. This only fails, as neither player
takes any account of the other before moving a piece. This results in games that go on
for hours with neither player losing a piece, putting the other player in check, or ever
winning the game. In parallel fashion, Murphy is unable to attain Mr. Endon’s
attachment through his own actions simply because one cannot will oneself to be free of
will. Murphy’s quest, based on the Cartesian split between mind and body, is doomed to failure.
A couple of details worth noting are that the novel reveals Murphy’s home to be
West Brompton, London, during the 1930s, and the descriptions of the city given by the
25

narrator as he follows Murphy and the othe r characters’ peripatetic wanderings are
geographically accurate. These details with regard to the novel’s setting will form an
important point of comparison when discus sing the French period and the return to
English.
Beckett’s use of language in the novel is distinguished by puns, obscure words,
long sentences, heavy alliteration, and forei gn languages. An examination of several
characters’ names provides examples. The above-noted Mr. Endon’s name puns on
Murphy’s desire to “end” and the lack of any endgame in their chess match. Miss
Carridge puns on birth and death with its alternate spelling, “mis carriage.” And Bim
Clinch is an unusual name that will reappear in Waiting for Godot , and How It Is .
The following two examples of text demonstrate Beckett’s predilection for
unusual words, his interest in grammar and issues of gender. The first is an example of
the long, grammatically complex sentences ch aracteristic of his early publications:
The oui-ja board is how I live, I come all the way from
Paddington to feed the poor dear sheep and now I dare not let her off,
here is my card, Rosie Dew, single woman, by appointment to Lord
Gall of Wormwood, perhaps you know him, a charming man, he sends
me objects, he is in a painful position, spado of long standing in tail male special he seeks testamentary pentimenti from the au-delà , how
she strains to be off and away, the protector is a man of iron and will not bar, plunge the fever of her blood in the Serpentine or the Long Water for that matter, like Shelley’s first wife you know, her name was
Harriet was it not, not Nelly, Shelley, Nelly, oh Nelly how I adore
you.
38

This single sentence is an extremely rich piece of text. One notes first the
multiplicity of dependent clauses and the evocative names “Rosie Dew” and “Lord Gall.”
Next, one’s attention is dr awn to the unusual and foreign words such as, “spado,”
“pentimenti,” from Italian and “au-delà,” from French. It evokes, Shelley, a literary
figure, and thus writing. It is also filled with assonance and rhyme such as, “tail male”
26

and “testamentary pentimenti,” and finishes in a crescendo of rhyme and repetition with
the names Nelly and Shelley. This example is significant, above all, because it utilizes an
accumulative technique similar to that of Joyce and is quite the opposite style of
Beckett’s later writing.
The second example shows both humor and an example of Becket t’s depiction of
gender in the novel. Murphy has just seen a short fat woman he believes has “duck’s
disease,” what the narrator tells us is “aptly descri bed in Steiss’s nosonomy as
Panpgyoptosis” which, translated, means “all rumps stink.”
The Duck, to give her a name to go on with, held in one hand
a large bulging bag and in the other a lead whereby her personality was
extended to a Dachshund so low and so long that Murphy had no means of telling whether it was a dog or a bitch, which was the first
thing he wanted to know about every so-called dog that came before
him.
39

This brief section of text is a good example of the novel’s humor and its
protagonist’s eccentricity. It is also a cr uel and mocking descri ption of a woman who
makes only a brief appearance in the novel. As noted in the preceding section, women in
Samuel Beckett’s early fiction are often de picted unfavorably. As Brienza has noted,
they are often based on stereot ypes and may be considered either sensual or grotesque.
The duck woman obviously fits into the latter category. She is physic ally deformed and
equated with an equally deformed dog. Al so noteworthy is Murphy’s obsession with
knowing the gender of all the dogs he sees. Revealingly, he makes the assumption they
are males and then, when he sees the sex or gans, rejects or confirms this assumption.
Prostitution is evoked several times in this novel and is, at least once, lauded as a
woman’s greatest achievement. The previ ous occupant of Mu rphy’s room was a
prostitute described as, “a harlot, long past her best”40 and the major female character of
the novel, Celia, is a prostitute. She receives compliments on her talent and success as a
27

streetwalker from Mr. Kelly and Murphy. Mu rphy calls these compliments, “the highest
tribute a man can pay a woman.” Celia is al so described as dimwitted when she tries to
explain her relationship with Murphy to Mr . Kelly. The narrator says she was “racking
her brain which was not very large for the best way to say it.”41 The novel depicts Celia
as an unintelligent prostitute w ho threatens to distract Murphy from his intellectual quest.
She supports herself and him with the money she earns. When she asks Murphy to help
her get a better job, he berates her for wanting to ruin his life with children and
domesticity. While not physically deformed, Celia is nonetheless an object of derision
and pitiless humor. Indeed, the novel’s cruelest satire is reserved for its female characters
while the male hero remains unscathed.
1.6 Conclusion
Samuel Beckett showed a strong interest in literature and foreign languages,
specifically French, from a young age. A lthough his publications in French were
primarily responsible for his fame and recogni tion, all of Beckett’s work in both French
and English merits review if one is to st udy his writing and his bi lingualism. Those who
have addressed Beckett’s bilingu alism have principally focused on his self-tra nslations in
an attempt to determine the status of the sec ond versions of his work. At issue in these
studies is whether or not a translation is s econdary to the original work or worthy of
standing on its own, since the au thor has written the transla tion and it is impossible to
know if any changes are due to authoria l intention or the demands of language.
The present study addresses Beckett’s bili ngualism from another angle. Rather
than study different versions of a single wo rk, I review Beckett’s choice of language for
the first version of a given work. This met hod allows a more complete study of Beckett’s
28

writing over time by dividing his career into three distinct periods according to the
language Beckett used for first versions of ne w works. I shall demonstrate that Beckett’s
switch to French was not an isolated linguistic shift in his career a nd that the return to
English in 1956 is an equally momentous occasion. This study will also provide a more
comprehensive view of Beckett’s use of langua ge than has come before by investigating
how the texts change during the different periods.
The first English period is distinguished by Beckett’s use of a discernible plot.
The stories generally trace the journeys of the main character s in recognizable cities or
countries. Relatively conventi onal plot lines are developed as we follow the protagonist
in his quest to arrive at his destination. Sentences tend to be complex and filled with erudite or obscure vocabulary. Puns abound, as do instances of rhyme and alliteration.
Beckett seems to enjoy the virtuosity and rich ness of the English language. Finally, this
period is also distinct in its gender attitudes. Women are depicted as moronic, grotesque,
and highly sexual. They threaten the quest of the male protagoni st by distracting him
with sensuality. They are consistently mocked and derided, while the males remain
protected from this biting satire.
Beckett’s early work and, in particular, his novel Murphy clearly show his interest
in themes that he will develop in subsequent writings for the rest of his life. These themes
include the Cartesian split between mind and body, human suffe ring, alienation, and
exile. The eponymous protagonist of Murphy is typical of Beckettian heroes in his
disdain for the world and the great misfortunes that constantly befall him. However, this
work also displays Beckett’s vast learning in his erudite vocabular y and subtle literary
references.
29

This chapter, with its consid eration of the early fiction, is the first element of this
study of Beckett’s bilingualism. The analysis of Beckett’s first texts show them to be
filled with references to the author’s home land and characterized by a style that tends
toward poetry and linguistic complexity while leaving its female characters only sketches
based on stereotypes. In the following chapte r, I will discuss Beckett’s switch to French
in 1945. I will consider under what circum stances this shift took place as well as
Beckett’s own remarks on this decision. I will review Beckett’s relationship with his
mother and what some critics call his self-exi le to France. Beckett’s most famous work,
En attendant Godot , will be carefully analyzed as a re presentative work from the French
period.
1.7 Notes

1 Beer, Ann. “Beckett's Bilingualism.” The Cambridge Companion to Beckett . Cambridge Companions to
Literature (Cctl). Cambridge, England: Cambridge UP, 1996. 210-211.

2Beer, Ann. p. 211

3 Butler, Lance St. John. "Two Darks: A Solution to the Problem of Beckett's Bilingualism." Samuel
Beckett Today/Aujourd'hui: An Annual Bilingual Review/Revue Annuelle Bilingue 3 (1994) p. 115

4 Butler, Lance St. John. p. 127

5 Butler, Lance St. John. p. 116

6 Butler, Lance St. John. p. 116 Butler’s endnote to th is remark reads, “A point first made by Alexander
Fraser-Tytler in his Essay of the Principles of Translation , 1791. French “admits a greater brevity of
expression than the English.”

7 Butler, Lance St. John. pp. 118-119

8 Friedman, Alan Warren, Charles Rossman, and Dina Sherzer. Beckett Translating/Translating Beckett .
University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1987. pp. 36-48

9 Butler, Lance p. 131

10 Murphy, P. J. Critique of Beckett Criticism : A Guide to Research in English, French, and German .
Literary Criticism in Perspective. 1st ed. Columbia, SC: Camden House, 1994 p. 1. On this point, see also
Fitch, Brian T. Beckett and Babel : An Investigation into the Status of the Bilingual Work . University of

30

Toronto Romance Series; 57. Toronto; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1988.
pp. 16-20

11 Fitch, Brian T. pp. 16-20

12 Fitch, Brian T. p. 17

13 Norris, David and Carl Flint. Introducing Joyce . New York: Totem Books, 1997 p. 106

14 Fitch, Brian T. p. 17

15 Murphy, P. J. p. 2

16 Murphy, P. J. p.117

17 Astbury, Helen “Samuel Beckett’s (Linguistic ) Exile: Continuity through Separation.” Mots Pluriels
no. 17. April 2001. http://www.arts.uwa.edu.au/MotsPluriels/MP1701ha.html

18 Knowlson, James. Damned to Fame : The Life of Samuel Beckett . New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996.
pp. 77-78

19 Knowlson, James. p. 288

20 Quoted in Bair, Deirdre. Samuel Beckett: A Biography . London. Jonathan Cape 1978; Pan Books,
Picador 1980. pp. 311

21 Critics divide Beckett’s career up differently. One example is Fitch who states, “During the first period
of his work [Beckett], from 1930 until 1951, (…)”

22 Beckett, Samuel. Worstward Ho . 1st ed. New York: Grove Press, 1995

23 Bair, Deirdre. p.84

24 Pattie, David. The Complete Critical Guide to Samuel Beckett . The Complete Critical Guide to English
Literature. London ; New York: Routledge, 2000 p. 53

25 Knowlson, James. p. 146

26 Pattie, David. p. 53

27 Knowlson, James. p. 145

28 Knowlson, James. p.145

29 Pattie, David. p. 51

30 Beckett, Samuel. More Pricks than Kicks Grove Press New York, 1972 p. 50-51

31 Brienza, S. “Clods, Whores, and Bitches: Misogyny in Beckett’s Early Fiction” in Linda Ben-Zvi’s
Women in Beckett: Performance and Critical Perspectives pp. 91-105

32 Brienza, S. p. 92

31

33 Gontarski, On Beckett Essays and Criticism Grove Press New York 1986 pp. 67-68

34 Bair, Deirdre p. 243

35 Beckett, Samuel Murphy . New York,: Grove Press, 1957 p. 109

36 Beckett, Samuel. p. 107

37 Beckett, Samuel. p. 107

38 Beckett, Samuel. p. 99

39 Beckett, Samuel. p. 98

40 Beckett, Samuel. p.7

41 Beckett, Samuel. p. 19

32

CHAPTER 2. THE SWITCH TO FRENCH IN 1945
This chapter will discuss Beckett’s adoption of French as the language in which to
compose first versions of his work. It wi ll begin by considering Beckett’s own comments
about writing in French to interviewers, critics, and friends. Much can be gleaned from
these insightful remarks about the author’s appreciation of Fr ench and the qualities of the
language that appealed to him. I will review Ruby Cohn’s treatment of this topic in her
book, Back to Beckett . Although Beckett was throughout hi s life notoriously guarded in
his comments concerning his work, he did make several important remarks about this
linguistic shift that may give some insight into his decision to switch from one language
to the other for first versions of new works. In reviewing these rema rks I shall argue that
Beckett’s choice of French represents a lite rary strategy with a definite purpose and
tangible impact on his work.
The switch to French has often been viewed in conjunction with Beckett’s
decision to move to France. This chapte r will explore this biographical aspect of
Beckett’s career and writing. Critics have often viewed B eckett’s move from Ireland to
France, both geographically and linguistically, as an “exile” or “self-imposed exile.”
Some critics focus on the similarities this exile shares with those of other literary figures,
in particular James Joyce, and explore the l iterary motives behind it. A section will be
devoted to understanding Beckett’s relati on to his homeland as well as his adopted
domicile in France. The key to judging whet her or not Beckett is truly an exile is by
determining if his break with Ire land was definitive. I will re view an essay that addresses
Beckett’s status as an exile by Helen Astbury.
33

Inevitably, critics point to Beckett’s relationship with his mother as an
explanation for the author’s move to France. The critic Brian Fitch has maintained that
Beckett quit Ireland, in part, to flee a smothe ring mother. A section will evaluate the
nature of Beckett’s relationshi p with his mother to determine if Fitch’s neatly causal
explanation has merit. This chapter will clos ely examine Beckett’s relationship with his
mother in light of the relatively new information presented in James Knowlson’s
biography, Damned to Fame: The Li fe of Samuel Beckett . One very striking parallel
between Beckett’s fiction and his correspondenc e will be considered in an attempt to
come to a more complete understanding of th is relationship and how it may have affected
his writing.
This chapter will include a close reading of Beckett’s most famous play, Waiting
for Godot . I chose this play not only because of the universal appeal it has demonstrated
and the literary recognition it has received, but because it is an excellent example of
Beckett’s writing during the French period. Th is play displays all the most important
characteristics that distinguish Beckett’s writing during this time. The play also shares
structural and thematic similarities with the later play, Happy Days , and can therefore be
very useful in determining what features of Beckett’s writing change and what features
stay the same when he returns to English. I will highlight several aspects of the text,
including the author’s use of a bare prose to convey th e protagonists’ struggle with
language, the view that Vladimir and Estragon represent the two halves of the Cartesian
split between mind and body, and the relationships based on pairs that are presented in
the play.
34

The following section will treat the end of the French period, which marked a
series of creative difficulties for Beckett. I will consider Beckett’s composition of La
Dernière bande (Krapp’s Last Tape ) and his piece for mime, Acte sans paroles (Act
Without Words ) in this context. This is also a time distinguished by Beckett’s rise to
fame following the success of En attendant Godot . He became very busy with
publishing, overseeing theatri cal productions, and deali ng with his newfound fame.
These personal and professional responsibilitie s distracted him from his work and were
something about which he complained to friends.
Beckett’s French period is by far his mo st productive. During this time he
produced a large number of new works while continuing to translate his previous
writings. This level of output could not be ma intained indefinitely and the new creative
possibilities afforded Beckett by the French language eventually ran out. This may
explain the creative difficulty B eckett met with at the end of the French period during his
work on La Dernière Bande .
The final section of this chapter will c onclude that French provided Beckett a
vehicle for his art and allowed him to pursue his strategy of removing superfluous layers
of his prose to arrive at a language that was both simple and universal. This effort,
however, could not be maintained indefinitely and Beckett eventually came to an impasse
in his creative efforts. Beckett’s deliberate switch to French for the first version of new
works for a ten-year period from 1945 to 1955 represents a key element of the writer’s
effort to dramatically alter his writing st yle with a strikingly austere language and
imagery in order to convey univers al themes with simple language.

35

2.1 Beckett’s Famous Remarks abou t Writing in French/English
Beckett once said of English, “You couldn’ t help writing poetry in it.” This
section will consider this and some of Beck ett’s other remarks concerning his decision to
begin composing new works solely in French beginning in 1945. This is a popular topic
among scholars of his work, and several of Beckett’s remarks in this regard have become
quite famous. These remarks may provide the critic with some insight when seeking to
explain this fundamental linguistic shift in Beckett’s work. Here it is appropriate to quote
Harry Cockerham, who wrote, “We are f aced not with a writer who abandoned one
language for another (a not-infrequent o ccurrence), but with the possibly unique
phenomenon of one who, throughout his career, has divided his efforts and his interests
between two languages.”1 One explanation for the switch to French holds that Beckett,
as a student of French, was more conscious of his use of the language than a native
speaker. As Harry Cockerham comments, “…what seems to attract [Beckett] about
French is the very fact that it is less second nature to hi m than is English, that his
relationship to it is different and makes him more able to manipulate it consciously…”2
It is beyond the scope of this dissertation to catalog and analyze all of Beckett’s
remarks about language and what it means to write in French or English. Rather, I will
consider several of Beckett’s most frequen tly quoted comments on this subject in an
effort to understand the author’s insights into his own use of English and French. What emerges from these comments is a sense of what limitations he would face using his native English and what pot ential French promised.
In her book, Back to Beckett , Ruby Cohn takes up the to pic of Beckett’s use of
language in a chapter entitled, “The Weakening Strength of Fr ench.” In it, she briefly
36

notes the prolific period fr om 1946 to 1950 when Beckett switches to French and writes
some 29 different works including stories, novels , poems, plays, texts, and art criticism.
Cohn re-examines several of Beckett’s commen ts on the shift to French. She makes the
following list and uses her own tr anslations from the French:
Pour faire remarquer moi. (T o call attention to myself.) transition , 1948.
It was a different experience from writing in English. It was more exciting for me
– writing in French. Schenker, 1956.
Parce qu’en français c’est plus facile d’écrire sans style. (In French it’s easier to
write without style.) Gessner, 1957.
I said that by writing in French [Beckett] was evading some part of himself.
(Pause. ) He said yes, there were a few things about himself he didn’t like, that French
had the right “weakening” effect. Blau, 1960.
When I asked [Beckett] in 1962 (as everyone seems to, sooner or later) why he
switched from English to French, he replied th at for him, an Irishman, French represented
a form of weakness by comparison with his mo ther tongue. Besides, English because of
its very richness holds out the temptation to rhetoric and virtuosity, which are merely
words mirroring themselves complacently, narcissus-like. The relative asceticism of
French seemed more appropriate to the expression of being, undeveloped, unsupported
somewhere in the depths of the microcosm. Harvey, 1962.
To myself [Beckett said] that he was afra id of English “because you couldn’t help
writing poetry in it.” Coe, 1964.
37

[Je] me remis à écrire – en français – avec le désir de m’appauvrir encore
d’avantage. C’était ça le vrai mobile. (I took up writing again – in French – with the
desire of impoverishing myself still further. That was th e true purpose.) Janvier, 1968.”3
These remarks that Cohn lists in her book ar e very rich in their content. It is
therefore unfortunate that sh e devotes only one sentence to their analysis. The first
remark expresses Beckett’s desire for recognition as a writer. This remark, however,
remains suspect given Beckett’s lifelong devotio n to guarding his priv acy and aversion to
fame and celebrity. Beckett was notorious ly reclusive, even viewing the 1969 Nobel
Prize for Literature as a “catastrophe” and “d isaster” because he knew the disruption it
would cause him. Still, in spite of his hum ility, Knowlson detects a “concealed pride” in
Beckett with regard to the work for whic h he made every effort and sacrifice.
The next two remarks indicate that B eckett found writing in French enjoyable
because it was a different process from writing in English and because it gave him more
control over his style. With French, Beckett could write in a radically different from
style that he employed in English. The fourth remark furthers this idea by specifying that
French had a “weakening” effect on him. French gave him control over otherwise
unconscious elements of style that w ould have made his work recognizable.
The following comment is remarkable fo r several reasons. First, Beckett
reiterates his view that French “weakens” hi s style. Second, he uses the term “mother
tongue” rather than simply, “English.” This choice of words emphasizes the deeper, and
consequently, more unconscious, relation one has to a mother language as opposed to an
acquired one. Third, Beckett speaks of the richness of Eng lish and the temptations this
quality affords. Unlike in the English works, Beckett avoids rhetoric and virtuosity in the
38

French period. It is ironic that Beckett should find refuge from the richness of English in
the very language that is the source of that richness. Beckett’s criticism of English words
“mirroring themselves complacently, narcissus-li ke” and his praise of the “asceticism” of
French is based on linguistic fact. English has more synonyms and consequently, a much
larger vocabulary, than French. This is due, in part, to the Norman Invasion of England
in 1066 that displaced the Anglo-Saxon language with the Anglo-Norman language
among the ruling class of England. The French-based Anglo-Norman became the de facto language of record a nd therefore influenced the vocabulary of courts and
government. It also became a language of prestige that showed class difference.
Foodstuffs in English, for example, retain th ese differences today. Animals are called by
their Germanic names such as pig, cow, and chicken, while the foods they provide are called by their French names, such as pork, beef, and poultry.
The next two remarks indicate that Becket t either knew or intuited that English
had a larger vocabulary than French and th erefore allowed for a greater variety of
connotations and, in some cases, subtlety of meaning reminiscent of poetry. Beckett
states at the end of the previous remark that French is more suited to his project of expressing being, undeveloped a nd unsupported. This is because French is not burdened
with the excess connotations and meanings of English. French therefore may provide the
bare language needed to express the f undamental characteristics of being.
2.2 Beckett’s “Exile” to France, Tran slation, and Linguistic Exile
It is quite common for Beckett scholars to describe Beckett’s expatriation from
Ireland and his time spent in France as exile. These remarks can be misleading because
the term “exile” is defined first as a forced absence from one’s home. This was certainly
39

not Beckett’s case. The terms “French” and “exile” more often evoke writers from
French-speaking former colonies of France. These writers from Africa, the Middle East,
and Canada were forced, often for political re asons, to live and write in other countries.
Exile may also be defined, however, as a voluntary absence from one’s country or
home. In this case one actively chooses to leav e or is driven to do so by internal motives.
Whether involuntary or not, in literature, the exiled writer has come to imply one that is
skeptical and cultured. In general terms, he is an outsider yet also intellectually rigorous
and focused on his work. Scholars often compar e Beckett and Joyce in this context, for
both distrusted organized religion in Irela nd, condemned the moralistic forces behind
censorship, and composed highly intellectual works of literature set in Ireland while
living in continental Europe. Beckett fits th is definition of an exile but in order to
understand his work better, one must go further and explore how, if Beckett’s exile was a choice, his departure from Ireland affected his work. If the term “self-exile” is not an
oxymoron, at least the emphasis shifts from the place of departure to th e place of arrival.
Perhaps Beckett is more concerned not with wh at he is leaving behi nd, but with what he
is gaining by his move to France and his adoption of French.
As has been noted above, Beckett develope d an interest in France and the French
language as a young man. He pursued this interest at Trinity College, through an
academic exchange at the Sorbonne, and eventu ally by moving to France and writing in
French. These decisions were di rectly related to his intellect ual and literary aspirations.
Beckett not only found a rewarding pastime in French but also a means of achieving his
literary goals. French came to serve him as a tool with which to be tter fashion his writing
than he could with English.
40

It is important to emphasize the point that unlike some of his bilingual
contemporaries, Beckett chose to exile himself to France and to work, at times
exclusively, in French. The question may be asked, “How is Beckett’s exile unique, and
what effect does it have on his overall project as a writer?” I will argue that, in addition
to what has already been disc ussed above in the context of the author’s remarks about
English and French, Beckett’s deliberate departure, both from homeland and native
language, complements and reflects the underlying themes of alienation, decay, and
helplessness inherent in the human cond ition found in his writing. Language and
mankind’s dependence upon it are root conc erns in much of Beckett’s work.
Thus, many of Beckett’s works may be viewed as dark comedies about man’s
condition. His characters often witness worsening stages of decrepitude and
disintegration. These characte rs use their imaginations to create fictive worlds and
characters of their own that distract them fr om their suffering and allow them to pass the
time. Given man’s great suffering, Beckett’s ch aracters’ need to expr ess is compulsive –
ironically, in spite of the of ten-cited inadequacy of language to express. Language,
however flawed it may be, is ultimately the onl y force that maintains life in Beckett’s
work.
The Astbury essay mentioned in the first chapter is interesting for its author’s
treatment of Beckett’s depart ure from Ireland. There, Hele n Astbury argues that Beckett
never made a definitive break with Ireland in spite of hi s choice to live in France and
write in French. Astbury reviews the majo r works Beckett wrote before switching to
French in order to measure to what extent Ireland was absent from Beckett’s work.
Astbury claims Beckett was in “flight” from Ireland and seems to expect that this escape
41

should extend to his writing. Of course, she discovers that Beckett’s work during this
period is filled with Ir eland and all things Irish. However, Beckett is far from nostalgic in
the novels Dream of Fair to Middling Women and Murphy , which are largely set in
Ireland. Instead, Beckett reserves his most stinging criticism and irony for what Astbury
calls “…a small-minded, Catholic country…”4
When Astbury takes up Watt , the last novel Beckett wrote in English before
switching to French, she observes that Becket t drafted the novel in France and that
already the writing begins to show the characte ristics that will distinguish Beckett’s work
in French. The author’s scathing remarks about Ireland become much less frequent and
disappear altogether after the switch to Fren ch. Astbury concludes that writing in English
causes Beckett’s hostility towards his homeland.
Astbury goes on to argue that the settings of Beckett’ s French works are at once
anonymous and Irish. She comes to this dubi ous conclusion by considering the weather
in these works and the names of people a nd places such as Molloy, Bally, Ballyba,
Ballybaba. Anyone who has tr aveled in France knows the w eather there can be equally
miserable as in Ireland and with regard to the names, at least the latter two names seem
influenced by French in the mode of Pays-B as (Netherlands). Astbury poses the telling
question, “It is as if Beckett could only st op criticizing Ireland by putting a greater and
greater distance between himself and his count ry, and what greater distance for a writer
than to abandon the lang uage of that country?”5 But Astbury has just argued that the
writing remains Irish even during the French period and now she imagines Beckett is at the furthest point possible from his Irish culture. These two positions are simply incompatible.
42

Astbury goes on to note that Beckett’s at titude toward Ireland changes for the
better even during the French pe riod. As proof of this she attributes a remark by the
narrator of The Unnamable to Beckett himself, “je voulais mon pays.” Even if one were
to go along with such a flawed exercise in interpretation, nothing about this quote points
to Beckett or Ireland. It is left intentionally vague and mu st be interpreted as such.
When Astbury addresses Beckett’s return to English with All that Fall , she notes that the
autobiographical elements and nostalgia for Ir eland that characterize the play are evident
in the place names and character names of the work.
At the end of her essay, Astbury arri ves at the paradoxical conclusion that
Beckett’s decision to leave Ireland and to write in French allowed him to write a
quintessentially Irish theater.
Perhaps Astbury is missing the point, i.e ., that Beckett is not fleeing Ireland,
rather he is drawn to France. Undoubtedly, the early works of fiction are hostile toward
Ireland but is there any reason to think Beckett would consider this a problem? And if so,
would it be worth the immense effort of wr iting in another language to resolve? No,
Beckett was drawn to France and to French fo r the new creative and stylistic possibilities
the language afforded him. I disagree with Astbury that the French writing retains
recognizably Irish settings, names, and themes. However, this is ultimately a question of
motivation: is Beckett fleeing Ireland or embr acing France? It is likely a combination of
both but I would argue the latter provides a much more convincing explanation of
Beckett’s decision to write in French.

43

2.3 The Relationship with the Mother
Samuel Beckett was born on Good Frid ay, 13 April, 1906, to William and May
Beckett at Cooldrinagh in Foxrock, County D ublin. Although the majority of critics
agree that Beckett had strong bonds to both of his parents, most concentrate on the
relationship he shared with his mother and speak of her enormous influence on him and
his life. Critics develop e xplanations for Beckett’s move to France and adoption of
French based on the tempestuous side of his relationship with his mother. They cite
emotional problems precipitated by his mo ther’s controlling nature and open
disappointment with her son.
On the other hand, though largely ignored by critics, images of Beckett’s father
do turn up in his writing and perhaps a thor ough study of this relati onship could reveal
something about the literature. Beckett’s own comments seem to discourage this line of
inquiry. James Knowlson quotes Beckett fr om an interview conducted 9 July, 1989.
Beckett then described his father as, “absol utely non-intellectual. He left school at
fifteen. He was taken away. Couldn’t stay. And was put to work. He had a big case of
books, Dickens and Encyclopedias that he never opened. He used to read Edgar Wallace.”
6 Critical work done thus far indicates th at Beckett’s intellect ual interests, his
dark humor and spells of melancholy and de pression link him more strongly with his
mother than his father.
In particular, Samuel Beckett’s strained re lationship with his mother is very often
brought up in conjunction with his depa rture from Ireland. When commenting on
Beckett’s switch to French, Brian Fitch wr ites, “And here a further factor undoubtedly
enters into consideration in Beckett’s case: his unceasing effo rts to put as much distance
44

as possible between himself and his native land in general and his mother in particular –
the place and occasion, so to speak, of his birt h.” According to this view, it would seem
Beckett chose to escape his mother with a geographic and linguistic departure.
Fitch’s explanation of Beckett’s depart ure from Ireland and his adoption of
French is not entirely convincing if compared with the account one finds in James
Knowlson’s biography, Damned to Fame: The Li fe of Samuel Beckett . Although
Knowlson never addresses this topic directl y, a clear picture of Beckett’s relationship
with his mother can be gleaned from Know lson’s study. He demonstrates convincingly
that Beckett’s relationship with his mother was very close from early on. In this context,
Knowlson remarks on Beckett’s birth and the au thor’s lifelong claim to have prenatal
memories.7 Contrary to the common view of the womb as a safe haven Beckett most
often depicts it as a painful prison. In one particular poem Becket t describes his birth
thus, “where I was born with a pop with the green of the la rches /… oh the larches the
pain drawn like a cork.”8 This pain does not end with the birth but signals only the
beginning of a life of suffering, a life of dying, and a life of unending pain. In this light,
one sees that Beckett views all births, not just his own, as he ralding a life of suffering and
slow death and therefore his mother is no more to blame than any other woman who
gives birth. Furthermore, Fitch is wrong to believe that Beckett seeks to put as much distance between himself and his birth as possi ble because despite its horror; this is an
idea that fascinated Beckett and recurs ag ain and again in his work. One well-known
example which will be discussed further belo w is the description of the birth astride a
grave in
En Attendant Godot .
45

If one goes back further in time to compar e descriptions of both Beckett and his
mother’s childhood, one sees similarities in th eir personalities, part icularly stubbornness
and independence. As a child, May Becke tt was educated at the Moravian Mission
School in Ballymena and demonstrated what Knowlson calls a “reb ellious nature and
stubborn streak of independence.”9 She was considered by all to be a difficult student
and was once sent home for talking to a boy over the school wall. In spite of this early
rebelliousness against an oppressively aut horitarian environment, Knowlson points out
that she became extremely strict and demandi ng herself as she grew older. People who
knew her described her as having an imposing bearing and forceful personality. She was
not, however, without a sense of humor. Knowlson points out he r sense of the ridiculous
and acerbic wit. She was above all a pract ical woman and ran the family home of
Cooldrinagh efficiently and rigidly. She was known for he r fierce temper but also
showed kindness and generosity to those around her. This side of her personality was
perhaps driven in part by an unyielding code of conduct and sense of decorum.
The young Beckett was engaged in an almost constant battle of wills with his
mother and was forced to yield only unde r threats or punishment. One example of
Beckett’s early agoraphobia is recounted by Knowlson, “He made dreadful scenes, for
instance, when he was forced to go to child ren’s parties (which he loathed), trying to
escape by hiding in the outbuildings or shut ting himself in his room. When found and
made to go, he would sulk and speak to nobody.”10 This is a very early example both of
his independence and struggle with his strict moth er as well as his li felong difficulty with
social situations and interaction with people.
46

Knowlson sums up well the relationship B eckett was to have with his mother
throughout childhood and young adulthood when he writes, “Everyone who knew them
[Beckett and his mother] spoke of the fierce bond of affection that seemed to bind them
together, but also of the stormy conflicts that would blow up between them, sometimes,
apparently, over nothing at all.”11 The problem was not that they disliked each other, but
rather that they had diametrically opposed views of how Beckett s hould lead his life.
Their love for one another was very strong, wh ich made their disagreements all the more
painful because in addition to having to b ear his mother’s disappointment, Beckett was
pained by the loss of her affection.
Beckett’s mother wanted her son to take a job, settle down, and lead a respectable
life in Foxrock. While not out wardly hostile to her son’s wr iting, she largely ignored it,
even when Beckett had succeeded in publishi ng some of his writing. The idea of an
ordinary job was absolute anathema to Becke tt, yet his affection fo r his mother enabled
him to withstand her moral condemnation and pressure on him. Knowlson writes in his
biography that in the mid 1930s, “He [Beckett] thought that his mother was keeping him
deliberately short of money, so that he w ould be obliged to stay and obtain gainful
employment.”12 Even when he had succeeded in publishing “Echo’s Bones” and gave
his mother three copies, there was only “r evolted silence” in return. Eventually,
however, Beckett did leave, first to Germ any in 1936 and then more permanently to
France in 1937. These feelings of resentment for Beckett must have endured for some
time because he continued to receive a small amount of money to live on from his mother
until the success of Waiting for Godot gave him financial security in the early 1950s.
47

In spite of the distance from France, Becke tt returned home every year to spend at
least one month with his mother. And he wa s there when she finally succumbed after a
long battle with Parkinson’ s disease. Beckett’s moth er died on August 25, 1950, and
Beckett was devastated by her loss. He fe lt guilty for not being the son she had wanted
and was particularly traumatized by her pass ing because their relationship had been so
close. Knowlson writes of Beckett’s relati onship with his mother, “For although he had
been unable to live with her, he had also been unable to sever their emotional ties.”13
Knowlson also writes of the interviews he conducted with Beckett just before the
author’s death in 1989: “In the fi nal months of his life, Becke tt’s feelings of love for his
mother and remorse at having, as he saw it, le t her down so frequently, struck me as still
intense, almost volcanic. It was virtually the only ‘no-go’ area in our conversations.
Whenever the subject arose, it was clear that it was too painful, ev en unbearable, for him
to discuss.”14 Knowlson goes on to say that this did not preclude Beckett from having
dealt with these issues in his writing.
The critic Lawrence Graver, in his essay, “Homage to the Dark Lady Ill Seen Ill
Said,” draws a parallel between the female protagonist of Ill Seen Ill Said with Beckett’s
mother. He also notes several other works th at may draw on the image of May Beckett in
their main characters, including, Footfalls , Rockaby , and Company . What Graver points
to as the salient feature of a ll these women is that they are never the object of irony. He
singles out the protagonists of All that Fall , and Happy Days , the first fully developed
female characters in Beckett’s work but also as essentially comic characters because of
their rhetorical extravagance.
48

Nonetheless, Maddy Rooney from All that Fall and Winnie from Happy Days are
striking women who only appear in Beckett’s fiction after the death of his mother. While
the later allusions to her become more recognizable, thei r germ can be found in these first
works from the return to English.
Graver introduces Melanie Klein’s theory of artistic creation to strengthen his
argument that images of May Beckett appear in the writer’s work. He quotes Klein, who
claims the writer is driven by the “desire to rediscover the mother of the early days,
whom [he] has lost actually or in [his] feelings.”15 This image also appears in Roland
Barthes’ book, The Pleasure of the Text , where the writer is described as, “someone who
plays with his mother’s body… in order to gl orify it, to embellish it, or in order to
dismember it, to take it to the limit of what can be known about the body.”16 Graver also
has recourse to the feminist writer Susa n Rubin Suleiman, who comments on the artist
and the child in her essay, “Writing and Motherhood,” when she says, “In both cases, the
mother is the essential but silent Other, the mirror in whom the child searches for his own
reflection, the body he seeks to appropriate, the thing he loses or destroys again and
again, and seeks to recreate.”17
2.4 Reading of En attendant Godot : Plot Structure, Language, and Gender
This section will be devoted to a caref ul consideration of Beckett’s play En
attendant Godot that provides specific examples to support the argument put forward
previously, namely, that this play serves as an excellent example of Beckett’s use of
French to affect his writing style. This play also serves well for an examination of
themes of exile, gender attitudes, and a partic ular plot structure that will appear again in
later Beckett plays.
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Beckett originally wrote En attendant Godot in 1948 and the play had its premiere
at the left bank Théâtre de Babylone in Paris. It was an immediate succès de scandale
and word spread quickly among the Parisian public. The play not only saved the Théâtre
de Babylone from bankruptcy but it irrevocably launched Beckett to international fame
and notoriety.
The spartan setting of the play, a country road in the evening, immediately
distinguishes this work from B eckett’s earlier writing for its lack of a precise location.
This lack is the first demonstration of the them e of exile that is developed in the play. The
action takes place in a no man’s land where people are strangely cut off from their
counterparts and any semblance of a normal ex istence. In contrast , Beckett’s earlier
works have definite geographic locati ons. For example, the second line of Murphy
informs the reader that the setting is West Brompton and More Pricks than Kicks is set in
Dublin.
The play begins with Estragon struggling unsuccessfully to pull off his boot. The
effort is physically exhausting and so between attempts, he sits panting. During one of
these breaks Vladimir enters and says, “Nothing to be done.” (Rien à faire.) This striking
opening line of the play, in addition to bei ng a remark on the boot, neatly condenses the
existential theme of the play, i.e., th e despair and hopelessn ess provoked by intense
boredom. As the play moves forward, the ch aracters will struggle to pass the time and
fend off boredom and thoughts of suicide.
Estragon informs Vladimir that he has spen t the night in a ditch and been beaten
by unknown assailants, as usual. The two rema rk on their long friendship and Vladimir
makes the first of several references to su icide when he says they should have been
50

among the first to jump off the Eiffel Tower. Estragon finally succeeds in removing his
boot and, at the same time, Vladimir removes his hat. Each man carefully examines his
particular piece of garb before speaking ag ain. This scene may indicate that the two
characters represent each half of the Cartesian division of man between mind and body.
Beckett’s interest in Descar tes dates from his earliest wr iting, particularly, his prize-
winning poem, “Whoroscope.” The hat’s asso ciation with the head and therefore the
intellect indicates Vladimir will have intellect ual abilities. And the shoe’s association
with the foot, farthest part of the body fr om the head, points to a corporeal role for
Estragon. This distinction is reinforced by Vlad imir’s ability to remember past events, an
ability Estragon does not share, and Estragon’ s constant complaints of physical pain.
Also, at the end of Act I, Lucky will need his hat before he can “think.”
Next, the two bums discuss the two thieves crucified at the same time as Jesus:
Vladimir. –Ah oui, j’y suis, cette histoire de larrons.
Tu t’en souviens?
Estragon. – Non.
Vladimir. – Tu veux que je te la raconte?
Estragon. – Non.
Vladimir. – Ça passera le temps. ( Un temps .)
C’étaient deux voleurs, cr ucifiés en même temps
que le Sauveur. On…
Estragon. – Le quoi?
Vladimir. – Le Sauveur. Deux voleurs. On dit que l’un fut sauvé et l’autre… ( il cherche le contraire
de sauvé) …damné.
( En attendant Godot p.14)

Vladimir. – Ah yes, the two thieves. Do you remember the story?
Estragon. – No.
Vladimir. – Shall I tell it to you?
Estragon. – No.
Vladimir. – It'll pass the time. (Pause. ) Two thieves,
crucified at the same time as our Savior. One—
Estragon. – Our what?
51

Vladimir. – Our Savior. Two thieves. One is
supposed to have been saved and the other . . . ( he
searches for the contrary of saved ) . . . damned.
( Waiting for Godot p. 16)

This section of dialogue is an excellent example of the simplicity of language
Beckett achieves with French. Here the halting style of the short declarative sentences,
sometimes even lacking verbs, suggests the breakdown of language and the main
characters’ struggle to express themselves. After some effort to recall, Vladimir
remembers the story and offers to recount it to Estragon. The latter neither remembers it
nor wishes to hear it and answers his frie nd’s questions with a bl unt “no.” However,
when Vladimir explains that his story will pass the time, Estragon ceases to protest. This
is because Estragon shares his companion’s desire to fend off the intense boredom with which they are afflicted.
Upon hearing the story, Estragon immedi ately has problems understanding what
he is being told. He apparently does not hear or does not understand the words, “le
Sauveur” (the Saviour). Vladimir also has tr ouble with language as he struggles to find
the antonym of saved. These details highlig ht Beckett’s preoccupation with language and
parallel his own use of French to simplif y and pare down his writing. When Estragon
cannot understand what he is being told, Vlad imir does away with extraneous elements,
verbs included, to reduce the story to its es sential elements: the savior and two thieves,
just as Beckett writes in French to avoid the poetry and potential distractions of his
mother tongue. Here is also evidence of li nguistic exile because their ties to one another
through language are at risk. Both characters struggle to express th emselves in language
and therefore struggle to co mmunicate with each other.
52

This difficulty highlights the distance between two otherwise very close
companions. One must also point out the obvious irony of the word Estragon does not
understand: savior. The levels of meani ng here are many and varied. On the most
superficial level, the reader may interpret G odot as a divine figure and this episode would
serve to further emphasize his mystery and absen ce. On another level, this denial of the
word “savior” may indicate just the opposite, that th e subject of the play is not God, but
man. According to the latter interpretation, Vladimir and Es tragon become the focus of
the play. Indeed it is the drudgery of their existence and how they cope with this
situation that is most important.
A brief caveat before continuing: ma ny critics have tackled the complex
philosophical underpinnings of Beckett’s work. It is a complex subject that has fueled
debate since before Beckett won the Nobel Prize in 1969. However, for the sake of
brevity, I must limit my treatm ent of philosophy in the present study to brief remarks on
Descartes, Geulincx, and Malebranche.18
René Descartes, to sum up briefly, pursued a system of radical doubt of his senses
and the material things they perceived. He concluded that one coul d be sure only of the
mind’s existence. He wrote, “Although the things I perceive and imagine are perhaps
nothing at all outside me and in themselves, I am nevertheless assured that those modes
of thought, certainly reside in and are found in me…”19 This line of thought leads
directly to Descartes’ famous axiom, “Cog ito, ergo sum” (I think, therefore I am) in his
work, Discourse on Method . Ultimately, the belief that the tr ue self is to be found in the
mind leads to a mind/body dualism. For Descartes’ followers, these ideas promoted introspection and study of the mind from within since the se nses were liable to error.
53

Pattie comments, “The parallels between this practice and Beckett’s writing were, for his
early critics, irresistible.”20 While Descartes did not posit a total split between mind and
body, two of his followers, Arnold Geulincx and Nicolas Malebranche, did. Beckett
makes repeated references to all three ph ilosophers in his work. Most prominently,
Beckett quoted Geulincx’s famous Latin phrase in a letter to Sighl e Kennedy, “ubi nihil
valis, ubi nihil velis,” “Where I am worth nothing, I should want nothing.”21
Pattie emphasizes the stri king difference between thes e philosophers’ worldview
and Beckett’s work: “the absence of a God [i n Beckett] converted the quietly optimistic
philosophy of Descartes into a fundament ally pessimistic view of the world.”22 This is
because of the resulting chaos when the self is completely cut off from the external
world. The above quotation highlights this la ck of a God and the breakdown of language
when Estragon does not comprehend the word “savior.”
Vladimir and Estragon continue their debate about the two thieves, and the former
wonders aloud why only one version of the story has survived. He is genuinely
perplexed but Estragon dismisses the whole affair with a simple, “People are bloody
ignorant apes.” (16) (Les gens sont des cons). Vladimir spits on the ground in disgust.
Estragon looks at his surroundings for a few mo ments and says, “Endroit délicieux.” (16)
(Charming spot). These comments are good exam ples of the humor in Beckett that so
often goes overlooked. But this whole epis ode serves several purposes. First, it
reinforces the distinction already noted between the intellectual Vladimir and the
corporeal Estragon. Vladimir knows the story and its historical context and puzzles over its outcome. Estragon values the debate only as a distraction from the boredom. Second,
it adds to the religious imagery that permeates the play but casts this imagery in historical
54

terms. This creates the unexpected and ja rring situation where two tramps assume the
roles of Bible scholars. This creates a dramatic tension that builds each time the
spectator’s expectations are fr ustrated. The ultimate frustr ation, of course, is the anti-
climactic ending of the play.
Their conversation turns, interestingl y, to English when Estragon comments on
the English pronunciation of the word “calm” and offers to tell a joke about an
Englishman who goes to a whorehouse. Here Beckett pokes fun at his native English
and the cultural stereotype of the unemotional English from within the French language.
(“Estragon – Les anglais disent câââm. Ce sont des gens câââms.”) (20) (Estragon –
Calm . . . calm . . . The English say cawm). This is also the first of two oblique
references to women. In this case, they are prostitutes in a dirty joke.
Estragon suggests they hang themselves to pass the time. The matter is quickly
decided when Vladimir remarks that hanging wi ll give them erections and cause them to
ejaculate. They have second thoughts when they examine the tree. Estragon sees a
potential problem of which Vladimir is unawa re, however, and when he tries to explain
the dilemma, language nearly fails him. He therefore simplifies his language by doing
away with grammar and verb conjugati ons to state his case: “Estragon ( avec effort ). –
Gogo léger – branche pas casser – Gogo mort . Didi lourd – branche casser – Didi
seul…” (22) ( with effort ). Gogo light—bough not break—Gogo dead. Didi heavy—
bough break—Didi alone. Whereas—). This episode is remarkable for its unexpected
justification of suicide: an erection and an ejaculation. Suic ide will also pass the time but
it does not appeal to Estragon and Vladimir as the ultimate solution to their boredom as
55

one might expect. Once again, the characters’ need for one another is highlighted when it
becomes clear they fear solitude more than death.
Estragon asks Vladimir for a carrot. Th e latter searches a long time and removes
all sorts of odds and ends from his pocke t before giving his fr iend a turnip. When
Estragon remarks the error, Vladimir searches again and eventually finds a carrot. This
section recalls the opening scen e of the play when Estragon tries to remove his boot. In
both instances the characters use physical objects as a means to fill both physical and
temporal space. Vladimir is aware of this, and the last thing he tells Estragon when he
gives him the carrot is, “Fais la durer, il n’y en a plus.” (26) (Make it last, that's the end
of them). Here, Beckett’s characters are making somethi ng out of nothing. They are
manipulating physical objects to create action that fends off boredom. They are filling
physical space with objects and temporal sp ace with activity. It does not matter the
outcome of the activity, innocuous (carrot) or lethal (hanging), as long as it passes the
time. When this is compared with their othe r efforts in the same regard, an interesting
conclusion may be drawn. For example, their cavalier attitude toward suicide may be
contrasted with their manipulation and consump tion of the carrot. Bo th acts are intended
to pass time and are therefore of equal importanc e. One may ask if life has lost value or if
the carrot and by extens ion the ordinary objects of daily life have taken on a greater
significance. These objects, so abundant in daily life yet never considered very
important, often figure in Beckett’s theater. Beckett’s people use these objects as a last
resort to fend off boredom and affirm their very existence.
Estragon asks if the tw o are “liés” (“tied”):
Estragon ( mâche, avale ) – Je demande si on est liés.
Vladimir – Liés?
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Estragon – Li-és.
Vladimir – Comment, liés?
Estragon – Pieds et poings.
Vladimir – Mais à qui, par qui?
Estragon – A ton bonhomme.
Vladimir – A Godot? Liés à Godot? Qu elle idée? Jamais de la vie! ( Un
temps .) Pas encore. ( Il ne fait pas la liaison .)

( Godot , 27)

Estragon – ( chews, swallows ). – I'm asking you if we're tied.
Vladimir – Tied?
Estragon – Ti-ed.
Vladimir – How do you mean tied?
Estragon – Down.
Vladimir – But to whom? By whom?
Estragon – To your man.
Vladimir – To Godot? Tied to Godot! What an idea! No question of it.
( Pause. ) For the moment.

( Godot , 25)

This exchange is important for the multiple meanings the word “tied” allows.
Vladimir asks Estragon what he means and th e latter replies “down” literally, “hands and
feet.” This reference to physical restraint is in keeping with Estragon’s character thus far.
However, Vladimir interprets this question in a more abstract sense when he asks, “But to
whom, by whom?” Estragon picks up the abstract sense of the word and says, “To your
man.” Vladimir is at first shocked by th is proposition and is adamantly opposed to the
idea. However, some doubt creeps in when he says, “For the moment.”
This exchange is remarkable because all the various meanings of the word “tied”
are valid to some extent. The two prot agonists are dependent upon one another for
survival and therefore tied. The two ar e bound by their appointment to Godot and
therefore tied to him. By extension they are physically bound to the location, though no
57

ropes or chains bind them. Shortly, a ch aracter who is physi cally bound will appear
when Pozzo and Lucky arrive.
When Estragon finishes his carrot, he says , “C’est curieux, plus on va, moins c’est
bon.” (27) (Funny, the more you eat the worse it gets.) This line is another example of
Beckett’s humor because the French version lacks the verb “eat” (more literally, “the
further you go the worse it gets”) and surely so me must have said the same about this
play which has frustrated so many spectators. More seriously, this comment reflects the
pair’s situation for the same could be said a bout their lives. Vladimir claims to have the
opposite view, and the two comment on their diff erent temperaments. At the end of this
exchange, Estragon says, “Rien à faire” (28) (“Nothing to be done.”) echoing the same
phrase that opened the play. This symmetry indicates the closing of the first movement
of Act I.
The second movement begins with Estra gon’s asking Vladimir if he wants to
finish it (“Veux-tu la finir?”), referring to the carrot, just be fore they are frightened by a
loud noise. This line is an enjambement th at carries over an object from the first
movement to begin the second. The line is also notable b ecause it elicits the idea of a
conclusion in a play that often lacks finishing or resolution in the traditional sense. This
idea will also close the movement with a symmetry parallel to that of the first movement, as will be noted below.
Beckett is known for the colorful, someti mes scatological, names he gives to his
characters and places. Some examples are Watt (What), Krapp, (crap) and the town of Turdy. The Italian language and in particular, Dante, is influential on much of Beckett’s
58

writing. For that reason, some have seen a connection between Pozzo and pazzo , Italian
for crazy. There is also obvious irony in naming an abused servant/slave Lucky.
The pair also serves to mirror Vladimir and Estragon in several ways. First, they
form a couple wherein each is dependent on the other. Second, physical/animal
characteristics distinguish one and intellect ual abilities characteri ze the other. Lucky
recalls a beast of burden as he carries his heavy lo ad, never putting anything down to rest.
Also, Pozzo tells Vladimir and Estragon to wa tch out because he is mean with strangers,
much as one would warn strangers of a dog that bites. Furthermore, Lucky never speaks
until the end of Act I when Pozzo orders him to “think.” Lucky is dehumanized because he is deprived of speech and, seemingly, thought – qualities that separate man from beast
– until Pozzo gives the order. The rope ar ound Lucky’s neck also demonstrates Pozzo’s
complete control over him and simultaneously recalls the earlier discussion of hanging.
Pozzo introduces himself, yet Vladimir and Estragon mistake him for Godot.
Pozzo’s pride is hurt at the error and Vladimir and Estra gon apologize for never having
heard of him. Estragon says, “Nous ne somm es pas d’ici, monsieur.” (30) (“We're not
from these parts, Sir.”) This comment renders the theme of exile explicit. Until this point various forms of exile, e.g., physical and me ntal, have only been implied by the barren
setting and the bizarre circumstances of the two main characters. Pozzo then asks who
Godot is, and it becomes clear that Vladim ir and Estragon have only a vague notion
themselves. They say he is an acquaintance, that they hardly know him and they admit
that they would not be able to recognize him. This episod e is important because it casts
doubt on what, until this point, has been the onl y certainty of the pl ay: that Estragon and
59

Vladimir are waiting for Godot. That they are waiting for him implies that they know
him or have some business with him, both of which are false suppositions.
Pozzo changes the subject and occupies hims elf with stirring Lucky. At this point
he remarks that whenever Lucky falls down, he falls asleep. This bothers Pozzo just as
Vladimir is troubled when Estragon falls asleep. One may question his motive but
judging from the other similari ties between the two couples, it is reasonable to suggest
that he also fears abandonment. However, th e analogy is not perfect for there is clearly a
distance in status between Pozzo and Luc ky that does not separate Vladimir and
Estragon. Pozzo comments that Vladimir and Estragon are “human beings,” of the same “species” as he. He also sa ys that he cannot deprive hims elf for too long of the company
of his likenesses (semblables). This indicates that Lucky does not provide the same company and therefore is infe rior to the other three men.
Pozzo decides to take the opportunity to spend some time with his newfound
companions. Pozzo sits down to eat and when he has finished his meal and begins to
smoke. He stretches his legs and says, “Ah! ça va mieux.” (36) (“Ah! That's better.”)
Estragon asks Pozzo for his discarded chicken bones and the latter res ponds that he must
ask Lucky, as the bones technically belong to him. Estragon asks Lucky for the bones
and is met with silence. Pozzo pushes Luc ky to reply, yelling, “Answer pig!” (36) but
Lucky remains silent and Pozzo gives Estragon permission to take the bones.
At this point Vladimir becomes very agitated and expresses his disgust with
Pozzo’s inhumane treatment of Lucky. He says it is wrong to treat another “human
being” this way. Estragon supports his friend and says Lucky’ s treatment is a “scandal.”
At this point the reader or spectator might expect a response from Pozzo that would
60

clarify his view of Lucky. Instead, he answ ers indirectly by claiming they are too hard on
him (sévères) and then he asks how old they are. This is the only clue given to their age.
He asks if they are “sixty” or “seventy.” (37) However, this may or may not be a reliable
indication of their age. Pozzo changes the s ubject and decides to leave. He has second
thoughts and thinks it is a good idea to stay a nd smoke his pipe one more time. Estragon
finishes sucking the last bone and says, “Ah! ça va mieux.” (38) (“Ah! That's better.”)
This line repeats exactly what Pozzo said wh en he sat down to smoke his pipe the first
time and creates more symmetry in the pla y. It indicates that Estragon is easily
impressionable and mimics those around him. Perhaps this is because of his diminished
mental ability.
The subject quickly changes again when Estragon asks why Lucky does not put
his bags down when he is standing still. By the time Pozzo realizes he is being asked a
question, Estragon has forgotten what he want s to ask. Both Vladimir and Pozzo remind
him. Pozzo makes elaborate preparations to speak, as if he were delivering an important
speech and not answering a simple question abou t his servant. He asks several times for
everyone’s attention and then produces throat spray from his pocket which he uses and
spits and repeats. When he is finally ready to speak, he has forgotten the question.
As the three characters struggle unsuccessf ully to communicate in this exchange,
language breaks down and once again Estra gon pares down his language and makes a
supreme effort to communicat e with Pozzo: “Estragon – ( avec force ). – Bagages! ( Il
pointe son doigt vers Lucky .) Pourquoi? Toujours tenir. ( Il fait celui qui ploie, en
haletant .) Jamais déposer. ( Il ouvre les mains, se redresse avec soulagement .)
Pourquoi ? (41) (“Estragon – ( forcibly ). Bags. ( He points at Lucky.) Why? Always hold.
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(He sags, panting.) Never put down. ( He opens his hands, straightens up with relief. )
Why?”) Here, as in the pr evious example, Estragon does away with superfluous words,
even conjugations, to arrive at the most basic form of his question. This time, however,
he also mimes the action to make his meaning clear. His effort is successful and Pozzo understands. Beckett is once agai n testing the limits of language.
Pozzo tells Vladimir and Estragon that Lucky seeks to impress his master and
inspire pity in him so that he will keep hi m. Lucky fears separation and evidently Pozzo
does not share this fear. He sa ys that their roles could have been reversed, that only
chance is responsible for their si tuation. Of course, this line foreshadows the reversal that
will take place in the second act. Pozzo expl ains that he is on his way to the Saint-
Sauveur market (“the fair” in the English version, literally, “Holy Saviour” market) to
sell his servant. Lucky begins to cry, and Pozzo tells Vladimir to wipe away his tears so
he will feel less abandoned. When Vladimir approaches Lucky to wipe his tears, the
latter gives him a sharp kick in the shin. Pozzo unsympathetically says he already
warned Estragon that Lucky did not like strangers. Vladimir examines Estragon’s
bleeding leg and Pozzo remarks that Luc ky has stopped crying. He then expounds a
karma-type theory whereby all actions are co ntinually passed from one person to another.
Lucky stopped crying when Estragon began. Pozzo concludes that the world is no worse nor any better than in the past. He says he learned these things from Lucky. In fact, he
credits Lucky with having given him all the cu lture, refinement, and ability to reason that
he possesses. This is another example of the pairs of opposites th at characterize this
section, e.g., slave/master, speech/silence, and fidelity/betrayal. Yet when Vladimir questions Pozzo’s decision to sell his serv ant, the latter becomes very agitated and
62

screams he can no longer tolerate Lucky. Vladimir and Estragon are ea sily swayed to his
point of view and begin to question Lucky’s tr eatment of his master. Pozzo finally gains
control of his emotions and disavows what he has just said, along with any perceived
weakness.
At this point Vladimir and Estragon have an exchange that could easily take place
between two spectators in the audience.
Vladimir – Charmante soirée.
Estragon – Inoubliable.
Vladimir – Et ce n’est pas fini.
Estragon – On dirait que non.
Vladimir – Ça ne fait que commencer.
Estragon – C’est terrible.
Vladimir – On se croirait au spectacle.
Estragon – Au cirque.
Vladimir – Au music-hall.
Estragon – Au cirque.

( Godot 47-48)

Vladimir – Charming evening we're having.
Estragon – Unforgettable.
Vladimir – And it's not over.
Estragon – Apparently not.
Vladimir – It's only beginning.
Estragon – It's awful.
Vladimir – Worse than the pantomime.
Estragon – The circus.
Vladimir – The music-hall.
Estragon – The circus.
( Godot 46)

The spectator or reader first remarks the humor and light tone of this exchange.
Vladimir and Estragon speak in the quaint formal register one might expect to hear at the
theater or opera. This is enormously ironi c and comic because it is so unexpected from
these two tramps. The play within a play quality that has alrea dy been suggested is
rendered explicit when Vladimir says he feels like he is at the theater. The adjectives
63

they choose to describe it could describe Godot equally well. This mirroring effect
creates an infinite regress that is appropriate in a play that expl ores themes of time,
memory, and vastness. The juxtaposition of formal language in an utterly informal
situation is continued when Pozzo asks Estragon for help sitting down. The former
simply asks Estragon to request that he s it down. Estragon complies but Pozzo still does
not sit. He explains that Es tragon has to insist a little. Estragon requests him to sit again,
this time claiming he will get sick if he does not. This strategy works and Pozzo sits. It
is worth noting that in this case one character is able to assist another with a physical
problem solely through the use of language.
When Pozzo looks at his watch, Vladimir remarks that time has stopped. This
along with his longing for the day to end and night to begin reinforces the slowness that
marks the entire play.
Pozzo asks his companions if they know what makes dusk special in the area. He
proceeds to deliver an overly dramatic speech in which he compares night to a galloping
horse that will throw itself on them when they least expect it. Pozzo closes his speech
with the memorable phrase, “C’est comme ça que ça se passe sur cette putain de terre.”
(52) (“That's how it is on this bitch of an earth.”) Night, of course, is a common metaphor for death in literature, and this is no exception. The obvious allegory here is
that of a man’s entire life. It begins with great energy and light but eventually fades as
night approaches. Evening is associated with calm and softness but night is seemingly to
be feared. The horse Pozzo employs to anthropomorphize night recalls the four
horsemen of the Apocalypse: war, famine, pestilence, and death. This speech also furthers the themes of waiting and the passage of time as Estragon and Vladimir remark
64

that all one can do is wait, an activity with whic h they are very familiar. This section also
continues the play within a play theme when Pozzo asks his “audience” how he
performed. Both Vladimir and Estragon comp liment Pozzo. The latter, however, admits
that he weakened a little at the end of his monologue and blames his faulty memory. This
demonstrates that Pozzo also struggles to remember past events, as do his two
interlocutors. Then Estragon says, “En attend ant, il ne se passe rien.” (53) (“In the
meantime, nothing happens.”) This line has several important levels of meaning. First,
on the most basic level, it states a fac t: nothing is happening. However, upon closer
examination the line is something of a conundr um because of its subjectivity. No action
is driving the plot forward, yet the simple pa ssage of time could be considered an action.
Second, this line recalls the title of the play and in so doing suggests it be interpreted in
the overall context of the whole play. In this sense, the line serves to reinforce the
atmosphere of stagnation at this point in the play while simultaneously summing it up on
a larger level. Third, this line recalls the “r ien” that begins Act I and suggests a deeper
organizational structure to the play than is immediately evident.
Pozzo fears his companions are bored w ith him, so he suggests that Lucky
entertain them by dancing and thinking. The dance he performs is unimpressive but his
“thinking” is quite remarkable. Lucky begi ns his monologue in the middle of a thought
with the words, “D’autre part” (59) (“On the other hand”) Pozzo interrupts him and
orders him to take several steps back and st art over. Lucky complies and begins with a
phrase that might normally be found at the beginning of a sentence, “Etant donné” – “Given the” (59) This implies that for Lucky thought and speech are influenced by
physical space and location.
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Lucky delivers a long monologue that paro dies academic discourse and mixes
erudite language with mundane vocabular y and made-up words. Lucky cites two
scholars with the names Poinçon and Wattman. The latter name may be split into two
parts, Watt and man. The former is of course the main character in Beckett’s eponymous
novel and the second another marker of the absen ce of women in this play. Beckett also
makes puns on the names of other scholars: Testu and Conard, along with Fartov and
Belcher. The former are French puns and the latter English. Lucky’s logorrhea is
characterized by a tendency toward poetry and assonance and by the inability to finish a
thought or idea. It is no co incidence that the last word Lucky utters is “inachevés”
(“unfinished”). Lucky stops speaking only wh en Vladimir snatches his hat away. He
collapses, and once again, a certain physical aspect characterizes Lucky’s thought. The
hat seems to turn his thought on and off just as his physical position dictates where he
will pick up his speech. And when he is done thinking, he is physically exhausted to the
point that the others must help him to stand again. And then, Lucky is only able to stand
when he holds his bags.
Lucky’s monologue touches on many of the same ideas present earlier in the play,
such as God, hell, philosophy, time, ending, and abandonment. The key element here,
however, is that he is never able to follow these ideas through to a conclusion. He is
interrupted with other thoughts or by language itself with stutters, rhymes and repetition.
At this point in the text, a small boy appears with a message from Godot.
Estragon questions the boy aggres sively, angered by his late arrival. In this exchange,
Estragon is looking to the boy to verify his ow n conception of the present and to reinforce
his memory. Of course, he fails and loses hi s temper. Vladimir tries to console him by
66

saying, “La mémoire nous joue de ces tours.” (7 0) (“Extraordinary the tricks that memory
plays!”)
Vladimir asks the boy if he has seen him before, if he knows him and if he has
ever come there before. The boy answers “no” and says it is the first time he has come to
deliver a message from Godot. Clearly, Vladim ir, like Estragon before him, is attempting
to root his experience in time, to locate a temporal landmark with which to orient himself. He fails, as does Estragon.
When Vladimir sends him away, the boy asks what he should say to Godot.
Vladimir replies that he should tell him he has seen Vladimir and Estragon. Vladimir
then revealingly asks the boy, “You have seen us, right?” It is as if Vladimir is again seeking confirmation not only of his percep tion but Vladimir also seeks existential
confirmation of his being from the boy.
Night falls quickly and the two turn to conversation to pass the time. Three
important remarks are made before the act ends. First, Estragon compares himself to
Jesus for being barefoot. When Vladimir obj ects, he says he has compared himself to
Jesus his entire life and that at that time one could easily e nd up crucified. This reference
to Jesus and the crucifixion c ontinues the religious themes begun earlier. However, in this
case there is a shift from the thieves crucif ied with Jesus to Jesus himself. This
intensifies the religious level of meaning of the play and suggests a quasi-religious
motive for the action of the play. Second, Estrag on looks at the tree and says he is sorry
that they do not have some r ope. This reference to their earlier discussion of hanging
themselves continues the theme of suicid e. Estragon goes further by describing an
attempt at suicide when he jumped in the Durance River. Ironically, this name seems
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related to duration. If one conceives of time as a river, the irony deepens. Estragon
attempts to escape time and boredom by throwi ng himself headlong into the river of time
called Duration. But he did not succeed, Vlad imir rescued him. Third, the act closes
with Vladimir saying “Allons-y.” (75) (“Le t's go.”) The text, however, indicates that
they do not move. This comment is important because it will be re peated by Estragon at
the end of the second act, thereby creating an element of circularity in the play. The
following note also demonstrates once again the inertia that holds both characters in place
and ties them together. More than once they sh ow a desire to separate or leave this place
together, yet they are incapable.
The second act begins, as the notes indicat e, the next day in the same location.
Estragon and Vladimir’s boots and hat are presen t. These details serve as reminders of
the main characters’ defining traits as presented in the first act. Vladimir enters and
observes the tree. This carryover from the fi rst act has changed – several leaves have
sprouted. This suggests the passage of more time than the text expl icitly indicates and
lends a universal quality to the actions and them es of the play. The meaning of the leaves
is open to interpretation but ma y indicate seasonal change. If this is the case, the arrival
of spring might imply the renewal phase of the cycle of life and by extension an optimism that was absent in the first act.
Vladimir sings a song and for the first time seems capable of finishing a thought
or idea without difficulty. Mu sic and musicality are almost always central concerns in
Beckett’s writing and En attendant Godot is no exception. It is perhaps significant that
Vladimir is able to sing a song successfully. The song itself is the story of a dog that
steals a sausage and is cons equently caught and chopped to bits by the butcher. Other
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dogs bury the first dog at the foot of a cross that recounts his fate. This leads to a
repetition of the story and therefore the song repeats endlessly. This story creates a
second infinite regress in th e play and also by way of th e death, burial, and the cross
recalls the cycle of life and religion.
Vladimir notices that their surroundings ha ve changed since th e previous day and
Estragon says, “On ne descend pas deux fois da ns le même pus.” (84) (“It's never the
same pus from one second to the next.”) This French version, with its verb “descend”
and “twice” more strongly recalls Greek philo sopher Heraclitus’ maxim that “one never
sets foot in the same river twice.” This ph ilosophical reference reinforces the image of
the river of time previously evoked by the Du rance. Vladimir continues to recount the
previous day’s events, and Estragon struggles to remember Pozzo and Lucky. Vladimir
goes further back in time, evoking the pair’s experiences in the Vauc luse. Estragon loses
his patience and says he can re member nothing about the Merdecluse. He says, as he has
before, that they should go their separate ways. When Vladimir reminds him that he always comes back, Estragon says that the only sure way to separate would be for
Vladimir to kill him. And then Estragon says , “En attendant, essayons de converser sans
nous exalter, puisque nous sommes incapables de nous taire.” (87) (“In the meantime let
us try and converse calmly, since we are incapab le of keeping silent.” ) This line begins
with an echo of the title of the play that serves to universalize its meaning. The
characters in this play and, indeed, in many other works by Beckett, are impelled to
speak. Uttering words is both the driving force of their existence and their sole means of
survival. They often view this as a curse and hope for a time when they will be silent.
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This may be interpreted as a longing for death and the peace it brings. The two continue
thus,
Vladimir. – C’est vrai, nous sommes intarissables.
Estragon. – C’est pour ne pas penser.
Vladimir. – Nous avons des excuses.
Estragon. – C’est pour ne pas entendre.
Vladimir. – Nous avons nos raisons.
Estragon. – Toutes les voix mortes.
Vladimir. – Ça fait un bruit d’ailes.
Estragon. – De feuilles.
Vladimir. – De sable.
(…)
Vladimir. – Que disent-elles?
Estragon. – Elles parlent de leur vie.
Vladimir. – Il ne leur suffit d’avoir vécu.
Estragon. – Il faut qu’elles en parlent.
Vladimir. – Il ne leur suffit pas d’être mortes.
Estragon. – Ce n’est pas assez.
( Godot 87-88)

Vladimir. – You're right, we're inexhaustible.
Estragon. – It's so we won't think.
Vladimir. – We have that excuse.
Estragon. – It's so we won't hear.
Vladimir. – We have our reasons.
Estragon. – All the dead voices.
Vladimir. – They make a noise like wings.
Estragon. – Like leaves.
Vladimir. – Like sand.
(…)
Vladimir. – What do they say?
Estragon. – They talk about their lives.
Vladimir. – To have lived is not enough for them.
Estragon. – They have to talk about it.
Vladimir. – To be dead is not enough for them.
Estragon. – It is not sufficient.

( Godot 85)

Vladimir and Estragon use language as an es cape from the suffering of existence.
They use it to shut out thei r own thoughts and senses. Th is evokes a direct form of
escapism. The idea, however, becomes more complicated when they claim to use
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language to shut out the voices they hear. These voices ma ke a rustling noise that is
compared to wings and leaves. These voices , unsatisfied with having lived, must speak
about their lives. Vladimir and Estragon may simply be hearing voices or this could be a
complex metaphor for literature. The voices represent the thoughts and ideas entombed
in books over the centuries. They are compared to “wings” and “leaves” to give clues to
their deeper meaning: “pen” (from the Latin for feather/quill) and “paper.” These
metaphors also have an aural quality associat ed with “wind” that evokes breath and
spoken language. This interpretation is fu rther supported by the numerous literary and
philosophical allusions both characters make, some of which have been noted above.
Vladimir and Estragon return to the subj ect of Godot and seek a means of waiting,
i.e., passing the time. Estragon says he is tired and wants to leav e. Vladimir responds
that they are waiting for Godot. When Estragon asks his friend how to go on, Vladimir replies, “Il n’y a rien à fair e.” (96) (“There's nothing we can do.”) Once again, the first
line of the play is repeated therefore reinforc ing the circularity of the whole. Vladimir
offers Estragon a turnip and the two briefl y replay the earlier exchange involving the
vegetables in Vladimir’s pockets. The pair begins to lose patience again when Vladimir
suggests Estragon try on the “new” boots. In a revealing line, he says, “Ça fera passer le
temps.” (97) (“It'd pass the time.”) The struggle to pass the time and escape a excruciating boredom is again rendered explic it in this line. Estr agon tries on both shoes
and in a comic turn, says they are too big for him.
Vladimir finds Lucky’s hat and decides to try it on. In order to do so he removes
his hat and passes it to Estragon, who does the same. This leads to the famous bowler hat scene in which both characters continually put on, remove, and pass bowler hats very
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quickly. This comic scene is often cited in relation to vaudeville comedy. Perhaps the
significance of this scene is twofold. First, it offers comic relief from the inertia
experienced by the main characters and th e overall bleak atmosphere of the play.
Second, it suggests that all the ch aracters of the play are to some extent interchangeable,
which fact may also be true, by extension, for all people. This episode provokes the
question of difference and adds to the univers ality of the play. The idea that difference
may be mental and therefore s ubjective is further develope d in the following scene when
Vladimir and Estragon pretend to be Pozzo a nd Lucky and enact a play within the play.
Their game ends when Estragon loses patien ce and runs away. This upsets Vladimir
terribly and when he cries out for Estragon, the latter returns. Their embrace emphasizes
once more their affection and need for one anot her. Estragon tells Vladimir that someone
is coming and Vladimir says, “C’est Godot ! Nous sommes sauvés!” (104) (“It's Godot!
At last! Gogo! It's Godot! We're saved!”) This reaction has an obvious religious tone;
however, it is likely a mistake to conclude that Godot represents God in some way.
Vladimir believes he is save d not from some form of damnation after death but from the
hell he suffers on Earth waiting for Godot. Likewise, when Estragon yells, “Je suis
damné!” (104) (“I'm in hell!”), he is not making the obvious religious remark but rather,
is commenting on his present situation and struggle to wait for Godot.
There is more physical humor as Estragon at tempts to run away but falls and then
tries to hide behind the tree without success. He asks Vladimir what to do, and the latter
says, “Il n’y à rien a faire.”( 105) (“There's nothing to do.”) This is another echo (in the
French version) of the beginning of the play and another example of the repetition of
events and phrases that characterize the play. They decide to keep watch for passers-by
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but no one arrives. Apparently, it is a false alarm. The two decide to pass the time by
exercising after making another reference to th e title of the play when each says “en
attendant” (107) “while waiting.”
Next, Pozzo and Lucky arrive, having changed significantly since their last visit.
Now Pozzo is blind and his rope tied to Lucky is much shorter. Lucky wears a new hat.
Vladimir is extremely happy that “reinforcemen ts” have arrived in their struggle against
boredom. He is assured now that they will make it through the night if they do not have
to wait for Godot alone. Pozzo calls for help when he and Lucky fall in a heap. Vladimir
and Estragon have an interes ting conversation about what th ey should do next. Estragon
wants to take advantage of the situation a nd either extort more bones out of Pozzo or
exact revenge on Lucky for having kicked him. Vladimir is in favor of helping the two in
hopes of receiving a reward in recompense:
Vladimir. – Ne perdons pas not re temps en vains discours.
(Un temps. Avec véhémence .) Faisons quelque chose,
pendant que l’occasion se présen te ! Ce n’est pas tous les
jours qu’on ait besoin de nous. Non pas à vrai dire qu’on
ait précisément besoin de nous. D’autres feraient aussi bien l’affaire, sinon mieux. L’appe l que nous venons d’attendre,
c’est plutôt à l’humanité tout entière qu’il s’adresse. Mais à cet endroit, en ce moment, l’humanité, c’est nous, que ça nous plaise ou non. Profitons-en, avant qu’il soit trop tard.
Représentons dignement pour une fois l’engeance ou le malheur nous a fourrés. Qu’en dis-tu ? ( Estragon n’en dit
rien.) Il est vrai qu’en pesant, le s bras croisés, le pour et le
contre, nous faisons également honneur à notre condition. Le tigre se précipite au sec ours de ses congénères sans la
moindre réflexion. Ou bien il se sauve au plus profond des taillis. Mais la question n’est pas là. Que faisons-nous ici, voilà ce qu’il faut demander. Nous avons la chance de le savoir. Oui, dans cette immense confusion, une seule chose est claire : nous attendons que Godot vienne.
( Godot 111-112)

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Vladimir. – Let us not waste our time in idle discourse!
(Pause. Vehemently. ) Let us do something, while we have
the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally ar e needed. Others would meet
the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears!
But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before
it is too late! Let us represent worthily for once the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us! What do you say? (Estragon says nothing. ) It is true that when with folded
arms we weigh the pros and cons we are no less a credit to our species. The tiger bounds to the help of his congeners without the least reflection, or el se he slinks away into the
depths of the thickets. But that is not the question. What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in
this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in this
immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come—
(Godot 110-111)

These remarks begin with irony when Vladimir complains they are wasting their
time with pointless talk and he urges his friend to act while they still can. Clearly, they
have nothing but time and the only way they are capable of passing the time is through
talk. Earlier, Vladimir would encourage al most any conversation to pass the time, saying
things like, “That’s it, let’s argue!” or “Right, yell at me some more!” Also, these two
have been unable to act from the first line of the play. They express their desire to leave,
yet are never able to do so. Next, Vladimir expands the context by interpreting Pozzo’s
call for help as a call to all of humanity. He reasons further that since only he and
Estragon are present, they must be, in this instance, all of humanity. This sweeping
statement represents a shift from the narrow c ontext of the individual in the moment to a
comprehensive view of all of humanity bound by time. This shift from the micro to the
macro suggests a more wide-ranging meaning to the entire play and serves to universalize
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the themes developed thus far. Vladimir d eclares that he wants to represent the human
race for once in a dignified way. He considers Estragon and himself to be examples of
the human race as good as any. The word “species ,” in the English text is translated from
the French word “condition.” This transla tion is important and me rits a closer look.
This French word in this context evokes the human condition, and therefore imparts a
philosophical or, more specifically, an existent ialist meaning. This idea is supported by
Vladimir’s further description of an animal ’s reaction in any give n situation which, not
based on reason, is immediate and instinctua l. This striking contrast to mankind
emphasizes man’s peculiar predicament. Vladim ir is wary of his di gression and returns
to one central question: what ar e we doing here? He says he is lucky to know the answer:
in this immense confusion the only thing of which they can be sure is that they are
waiting for Godot. This begs the question in the larger sense just evoked by Vladimir’s comments on the human race, i.e., what is the human race doing here? This
philosophical/existentialist question defies an easy answer. Perhaps, the answer is
slightly less complete than Vladimir’s: we are waiting, for whom we do not know.
Vladimir continues his philosophical musi ngs by stating that time passes slowly
for Estragon and him and that this difficulty pushes them to “furnish” time with all sorts
of actions that may be reasonable or just ha bitual. Furthermore, he proposes that man’s
reason may be inherently faulty. Estragon adds that we are all born crazy and some of us
stay that way. This is the first of se veral references to birth in the play.
Vladimir and Estragon attempt to help Pozzo and Lucky get up but fail and eventually end up on the ground, helpless them selves. Vladimir loses his patience and
begins to strike Pozzo who fl ees at the attack. Vladimir and Estragon attempt to call him
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back but are unsuccessful. Estragon’s memory is weaker than his companion’s and he is
uncertain of Pozzo’s name. His solution is to call out names at random until they find the
correct one. He begins with Abel and then conjectures that Lucky is called Cain. This
recalls the earlier references to the Bible when the two disc uss the biblical story of the
two thieves.
Vladimir and Estragon decide to get up a nd when they do, Estragon says he wants
to leave. Vladimir once again reminds him of their obligation to wait for Godot. They
decide to help Pozzo get up. Pozzo announces his blindness and Estragon wonders aloud
if he can see clearly in the future. This comment brings to mind two well-known
instances of seers in litera ture. The first is the seer in Oedipus Rex who, though blind,
sees the future and correctly predicts Oedipus’ fate. This reference is important to a
discussion of gender in the play because of its importance to psychoanalysis. The second
instance is that of the seers in Dante’s he ll who also can see the future but remain
ignorant of the present. They see the future clearly yet their vision fades and they forget
what they have seen as time brings the ev ents nearer. They are blind to everything
engulfed by the present. Pozzo closely parall els this idea with his description of his
blindness when he says, “Ne me questionnez pa s. Les aveugles n’ont pas la notion du
temps. (Un temps.) Les choses du temps, ils ne les voient pas non plus.” (122)
(“(violently ). Don't question me! The blind have no notion of time. The things of time are
hidden from them too.”) Pozzo asks Estra gon to check on Lucky and recommends he pull
gently on his rope to make him stir, being care ful not to strangle him. If that does not
work, he should kick him in the stomach and face as much as possible. Estragon attacks
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Lucky, kicking and screaming, but hurts his foot and limps away in pain. He tries to take
off his boot but is unsuccessful. This recalls the opening scene of the play.
Vladimir asks Pozzo if he is the same ma n as the day before. Pozzo says he has
no memory of their previous meeting and that he will not remember Vladimir the following day either. Pozzo and Lucky prepare to leave and Vladimir asks what is in the
heavy suitcase. Pozzo replies that it is filled with sand. Vl adimir also asks that Pozzo
command Lucky to sing. Pozzo replies that Lucky is mute. Vladimir asks when this
happened. Pozzo gets angry:
Pozzo ( soudain furieux). – Vous n’avez pas fini de
m’empoisonner avec vos histoires de temps ? C’est
insensé ! Quand ! Quand ! Un jour, ça ne vous suffit pas, un jour pareil aux autres il est devenu muet, un jour je suis
devenu aveugle, un jour nous deviendrons sourds, un jour
nous sommes nés, un jour nous mourrons, le même jour, le même instant, ça ne vous suffit pas ? ( Plus posément .)
Elles accouchent à cheval sur une tombe, le jour brille un
instant, puis c’est la nuit à nouveau. ( Il tire sur la corde .)
En avant !
(Godot 126)

Pozzo (suddenly furious. ) – Have you not done tormenting
me with your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? ( Calmer. )
They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more. ( He jerks the rope. ) On!
(Godot 124)

These illuminating remarks by Pozzo provi de an important key to understanding
the structure and events of the entire play. Here, time is the most important element as it
is elsewhere in the play. Likewise, time cause s frustration and anger. Next, there are two
shifts in the concept of time. First, the fl ow of time becomes imperceptible as all days
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run together, indistinguishable , one from another. As Po zzo says, one day something
changes and another day something else change s – what is important is the changes that
occur, not their place in time. This view of time has already been demonstrated by the
change that takes place between acts (l eaves on the tree) although only one day has
passed. Here, Pozzo makes explicit the idea th at all days are the same and changes occur
suddenly. Second, Pozzo condenses time dramatically when he says we are born and we die the same day, in the same instant. He illu strates this idea with the striking image of a
woman giving birth over a tomb. The child is born and its entire life passes during the
instant it sees the light of day. Then it falls dead into the tomb, or the night as Pozzo calls
it. This image recalls the abr upt nightfall of the first act and suggests that Pozzo’s image
reflects on a tiny scale the action of the whole play and perhaps, of all life.
Vladimir questions his own consciousne ss by hypothesizing that he is and has
been asleep. He predicts that the next day will follow a course para llel to that of today
and the day before. Then he returns to Pozzo ’s image of birth and says, “…A cheval sur
une tombe et une naissance difficile. Du fond du trou, rêveusement, le fossoyeur
applique ses fers. On a le temps de vi eillir. L’air est plein de nos cris. ( Il écoute .) Mais
l’habitude est une grande s ourdine.” (128) (“Astride of a grave and a difficult birth.
Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts on the forceps. We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. ( He listens. ) But habit is a great deadener”).
Vladimir makes the image even more ominous and sinister by maki ng the birth difficult
and adding the gravedigger. The latter usur ps the usual role of the doctor or midwife
who helps bring one into life. Now the helper’s role is to bring one into death. Pozzo’s
original image condenses time but at least allows for an instant of life in the light. This
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moment of life has disappeared from Vladimi r’s image as hands from the tomb reach into
the womb to extract the new life and end it. He says that the air is full of cries,
presumably of agony but that habit deafens our ears to the noise.
Estragon says he can go on no longer and Vladimir consoles him by saying they
will hang themselves the next day or, maybe, m eet Godot. Vladimir says they will be
saved if Godot comes. The most simple in terpretation is that when Godot comes the
waiting will be over. This remark is important because it superficially suggests that
Godot may symbolize God. A deeper meani ng developed from the beginning, however,
may be that life is nothing more than waiti ng and that Godot will ne ver come. It could
also be that Godot repres ents death, which also signifies an end to waiting.
The play ends:
Vladimir. – Alors, on y va?
Estragon. – Allons-y.
Ils ne bougent pas.
( Godot 134)

Vladimir. – Well? Shall we go?
Estragon. – Yes, let's go.
They do not move.
(Godot 132)

Here the characters’ actions belie their words. Both men indicate a desire to leave
but do not act. One may wonder whether they tr uly do not want to move or if they are
unable to move. This break between langua ge and action is important because it
exemplifies a deeper disconnect that runs through the entire play. Words only
approximate reality at best and in this play are often completely divorced from reality.
Simply put, the play is about boredom or what some have called “the suffering of
being.” The play’s two main characters, Vladimir and Estragon, await the mysterious
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Godot who never comes. Indeed, the suffering of these two is palpable to the extent that
they are often at pains to determine whethe r they really exist. They have disturbing
symptoms of being unreal: no dependable memory, diminished mental ability concerning
time (future, past), preoccupation with be ing remembered by others (the boy) and
therefore objective proof of their existence.
2.5 La Dernière bande (Krapp’s Last Tape ) and Creative Impasse
Throughout the French period, Beckett peels away layer after layer of superfluous
narrative content and techniques. In th e trilogy, (1947-1949), recognizable locations,
description, distinguishable char acters, and even a narrator are all dispensed with one by
one until only one voice remains. This voice in L’Innommable (The Unnamable ) claims
to have invented everything in the precedi ng two novels and struggles between self-doubt
and a compulsion to express. The novel ends , “…je ne peux pas continuer, je vais
continuer.”23 (“I can’t go on, I will go on.”) Eventu ally, Beckett even does away with
the voice in his work when he writes the mime piece Acte sans paroles (Act Without
Words .)
At least one critic has commented that Beckett experienced a series of creative
difficulties just before his return to English, particularly with his plays, La Dernière
Bande and Fin de partie . James Knowlson, in his biography of Beckett, devotes an entire
chapter to this period entitled, “Impasse a nd Depression.” He explains that production
negotiations for the American premiere of Waiting for Godot were unusually long and
that Beckett was suffering from “the by now familiar symptoms of creative impasse.”24
He had scrapped the first version of Fin de partie and complained of the misery of self-
translation. Business and social calls from old friends required frequent trips to Paris
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from his home in Ussy. This left little ti me for work, for which he already had little
motivation, and often put him in a foul mood. In a letter to Tom MacGreevy in the
summer of 1955, Beckett wrote, “We spend all the time we can in the country, but I have
always to be dodging up to Paris to see this one or that one. Fortuna tely there is a good
train up early in the morning and one back la te in the evening, giving one a full day in
Paris. But there is not much peace anymore.”25
Fin de Partie , which he had started more than a year earlier, was still unfinished,
as was his translation of L’Innommable . Beckett retreated from his writing to work in his
garden and solve chess problems.26 Beckett wrote to Barney Rosset, who was waiting to
publish L’Innommable , “I have not looked at the new play for some weeks now, nor, I
confess, pursued struggle with L’Inno. [ L’Innommable ] but have dug fifty-six large holes
in my “garden” for reception of various plan tations, including 39 arbores vitae and a blue
cypress.”27 Beckett, in another letter to Rosset, referred to his difficulty writing as his,
“potting inertia.”
One brief respite from these creative difficulties came in a request by the dancer
Deryk Mendel for a short mime scenario. In a few weeks time, Beckett dashed off Actes
sans paroles . In this piece a single character is tempted by a carafe of water that descends
from above. He raises himself by stacking cube s of various sizes but only fails to reach
the carafe. Knowlson credit s Beckett’s study of behavior al psychology, as well as his
reading of Wolfgang Kohler’s book, The Mentality of Apes in which the author describes
experiments in which apes stacked blocks in order to reach a ba nana as the possible
sources of the work. Knowlson fails to menti on that this work strongly recalls the myth
of Tantalus, whose punishment in the underwor ld was to stand neck-deep in water.
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Enticing fruit descended from above but whenev er Tantalus would try to eat or drink, the
fruit would rise out of reach or the water would recede. Beckett’s work and the myth
both address frustration and di sappointment felt when something is repeatedly offered
only to be withdrawn.
Knowlson also recounts that at this time Beckett set himself the task of rereading
all of Racine’s plays again, 25 years after he had lectured on them at Trinity College. He
posits that this intense study of Racine allowe d him to focus on the e ssentials of theater –
time, space, and speech. Knowlson describes Racine’s plays as having, “virtually immobile characters inhabiti ng a closed world in which li ttle or nothing changes.” He
believes the study of Racine paved the way fo r Beckett’s later highl y focused plays like
Happy Days .
Eventually, Beckett overcame his in ertia and went back to work on Fin de partie
and completed the play in February 1956. He then spent weeks revising it in May of the
same year, most notably reducing it fr om two acts to one. Knowlson remarks
unequivocally, “The play had given him more difficulty than anything he had written
before.”28
Following on the success of the mime pi ece and Beckett’s nostalgic return to
Racine, there is no doubt that the BBC commission will mark the end of impasse and the beginning of a great creative outburst in Englis h. Perhaps, in consequence, the two radio
plays given as examples in Chapters 4 and 5 of this dissertation display an unusual
optimism in the face of human suffering and despair in addition to the humor they share with Beckett’s other plays. It is also important to note th at both plays have prominent
female protagonists, which, until this point, was rare in Beckett’s work.
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2.6 Conclusion
The switch to French in 1945 represents a ma jor turning point in Beckett’s career.
Writing in French gave Beckett an unpreceden ted control over his style and allowed him
to create fiction that was ve ry different from the work he had written in English. Of
course, certain core themes remain virtually unchanged throughout Beckett’s work, such
as alienation, loneliness, and de spair. What I am speaking of here is above all a question
of style.
This can be compared with James Joyce’s use of the stream of consciousness
technique. Briefly, stream of consciousness in literature is a mode of writing that records
the transient thoughts and emotions of the protagonist. Chronologica l order is the only
organizing principle. The progr ession of ideas follows no pa rticular logic or narrative
sequence. Although many cred it Joyce with its inventi on, Edouard Dujardin (1861–
1949), in his novel Les Lauriers sont coupés (1888), was the first to employ this
technique in a work of fiction from beginning to end. James Joyce gave a great deal of
credit to Dujardin, probably because he view ed stream of consciousness as just that, a
technique. He once said, “The only thing th at interests me is style.” And, “From my
point of view, it hardly matters whether techni que is ‘veracious’ or not, it has served me
as a bridge over which to march my eighteen episodes, and, once I have got my troops
across, the opposing forces can, for al l I care, blow the bridge sky-high.”29 Clearly, for
Joyce, stream of consciousness was a means to an end. It was a tool with which to create his fictive universe.
Although Beckett claimed to have wanted to write “without style,” this is not
possible in the literal sense because all wri ting can be said to have a style. Thus
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Beckett’s comment must be interpreted. On e can suggest that B eckett wanted a style
different from his initial one. The early wor k, as has been demonstrated in Chapter 1, is
distinguished by being rhetorical, overtly erud ite, and poetic. Beckett, it seems, wanted
to eradicate these stylistic flourishes from his writing and found he could do so if he
wrote in French. Here, some cl arifications are in order. Fi rst, “style” is a difficult term
to define but in the context of literature can be taken to signify a characteristic way in
which a writer expresses himself that is recogn izable within a work or in several works.
Second, by “poetry” I mean literature written in metrical form. Beckett’s early works do
not adhere to the strict metrical requirem ents one usually associates with poetry;
however, his use of alliteration and rhyme, as well as his sentence structure, give the
writing a poetic quality.
Beckett’s exile from Ireland was driven as much, if not more, by his interest in the
French language than his dislike for Ireland. It is true that he had an intense, if
sometimes strained, relationship with his moth er; however, it would be a mistake to deem
this relationship the primary cause for his m ove to France. Beckett’s biographer, James
Knowlson, has argued convincingly that this re lationship never suffered a permanent rift
a view that is supported by the fact that Beck ett returned home each year to spend at least
a month with his mother at the family ho me. Furthermore, I will argue later that
favorable images of Beckett’s mother appe ar in his work immediately following the
return to English in 1956.
My reading of En attendant Godot , which may be considered representative of
Beckett’s French works, has provided examples of the stylistic elements Beckett was able
to incorporate into his French writing. I focus on the three areas of plot structure,
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language, and gender to discern the salient characteristics of this work and, by extension,
this period of French writing. I conclude that En attendant Godot does not have the
relatively conventional plot st ructure based on a journey that the English works share.
Instead, the central characters remain static and the action is based on modified repetition
from the first to second act. Dramatic te nsion is built through this repetition and the
decline, except for the trees, that it c onveys. Another powerful psychological and
dramatic device is the complete absence of the titular character.
The language of the play is also very diffe rent from that of the English works.
The prose is bare, made up mostly of short declarative sentences. Gone are the long-
winded, mildly pedantic passages filled w ith obscure language that characterize the
English fiction. Only Lucky’s speech can be sa id to retain these quali ties, and this is out
of irony and to satirize them.
The gender roles in Beckett’s French wr iting also undergo a ch ange. Previously,
most of the women were prostitutes, idiots, or persons worthy of mockery for some other
reason. These undeveloped characters remained sketches based on unfavorable stereotypes. Now, in the French period, wo men are almost as absent as Godot. Ann
Beer, who views these works as belonging to a “middle” period in Beckett’s writing, comments, “In the middle period, women disa ppear from view almost altogether;
Watt ,
Mercier and Camier , Godot , Molloy , Malone , The Unnamable , are almost entirely male
in their voices and cast of characters.”30 And, for example, when women do appear in En
attendant Godot , they are either prostitutes in a j oke or the agent of man’s creation,
suffering, and death because they give birth “astride a grave.”

85

2.7 Notes

1 Quoted by Fitch in Beckett and Babel from Cockerham, Harry “Bilingual Playwright,” in Beckett the
Shape Changer , ed. Katherine Worth (London, Boston: Routledge & Kegan Paul 1975). pp. 143

2 Quoted by Fitch in Beckett and Babel from Cockerham, H. in “Bilingual Playwright” p. 156

3 Cohn, Ruby. Back to Beckett . Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1974. p. 58-59

4 Astbury, Helen.

5 Astbury, Helen.

6 Knowlson, James. p. 30

7 Knowlson, James. pp. 23-24

8 Beckett, Samuel. Collected Poem s, 1930-1978 . London: J. Calder, 1984. p. 17

9 Knowlson, James. p. 26

10 Knowlson, James. p. 40

11 Knowlson, James. p. 40

12 Knowlson, James. p. 210

13 Knowlson, James. p. 346

14 Knowlson, James. p. 590

15 Graver, Lawrence “Homage to the Dark Lady Ill Seen Ill Said ” in Ben-Zvi, Linda. Women in Beckett :
Performance and Cr itical Perspectives . Urbana: University of I llinois Press, 1990. p.148

16 Quoted in Graver, Lawrence p. 148

17 Quoted in Graver, Lawrence p. 148

18 The critic David Pattie, in a section of his book The Complete Critical Guide to Samuel Beckett , entitled
“Beckett the Cartesian,” notes the importance of philosophy, specifically, Cartesian philosophy in Beckett’s
work.

19 Quoted in Pattie, David p. 106

20 Pattie, David. 106

21 Quoted in Pattie, David. p. 107

22 Pattie, David. p. 107

23 Beckett, Samuel. L'innommable . Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1953. p. 213

24 Knowlson, James. p. 377

86

25 Knowlson, James. p. 382

26 Knowlson, James. p. 383

27 Knowlson, James. p. 383

28 Knowlson, James. p. 384

29 Norris, David and Carl Fllint. Introducing Joyce . New York: Totem Books, 1997 p. 100

30 See Beer, Ann "No-Man's-Land: Beckett's Bilingualism as Autobiography." p. 173
87

CHAPTER 3. THE RETURN TO ENGLISH IN 1956
This chapter will discuss Beckett’s return to English as the language of the first
versions of several important works. Though Beckett will continue to compose in French
after 1955, this marks the end of the period during which he publishes new works almost
exclusively in French. The works composed directly in English distinguish themselves
from those of the French period for their use of language. Specifica lly, the influence of
music and poetry, as well as the unessential elements that Beckett had worked so hard to
strip away from his writing, will return in many ways. The shift back to English leads to
a prolific period during whic h Beckett writes more works and writes them faster.
The end of the French period marks a slow ing of Beckett’s output and a period of
creative difficulties, especially with his play, La Dernière bande . In contrast, the return to
English ushers in a very prolific phase in which Beckett completes new works relatively
quickly. Chapters 4 and 5 will focu s on two works from this period: All that Fall and
Happy Days in order to demonstrate the effect of th is linguistic shift on Beckett’s writing.
Although these works will be discussed in detail in the chapters dedicated to
them, one clear example of Beckett’s emerge nce from the phase of creative impasse is
that his play Happy Days had its premiere at the Cherry Lane Theater in New York on
September 17, 1961, only eleven months after he began work on it.
S.E Gontarski, in his book, Beckett’s Happy Days: A Manuscript Study , traces the
compositional history of Happy Days through primary documents. Gontarski states that
one early fragment, together with seven full versions of the play, provide the most complete compositional record of any work by Beckett.
1 As Gontarski reviews the three
holograph and four typescript versions of th e play, he notes the consistency and speed
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with which Beckett wrote the play. Gont arski states, “And finally, although Beckett
wrote steadily, finishing the complete one-act version in ju st over three months, typing
that version in one day (between the completion of H-1, January 14, 1961, and the
beginning of H-2, January 16), and then immediately beginning H-2, an uncharacteristic
break of eleven days exists between the co mpletion of Act I and the beginning of Act II
of H-2. This is the only time during the co mposition of the play where a break of any
length is apparent.”2
Short though it is, the eleven-day break in the writing draw s attention for its
contrast to the otherwise quick completion of the first version of the play. Gontarski pursues a structural explanation for the delay, arguing that during this time Beckett
decided to make the play two acts instead of one to give it symmetry and balance.
Gontarski compares the genesis of
Happy Days with that of Endgame and contrasts
Beckett’s differing solutions to the structural di fficulties presented by both. In the case of
the former, a second act was added while in the case of the latter, material was cut.
This chapter will begin with general remarks on the later English plays. One
section will discuss how a reque st from the BBC for the play All that Fall was critical to
this transition and also, how radio was a challenging new medium for Beckett that promised much potential. Just as writing in French allowed Beckett to manipulate his
acquired language like a tool , working with the BBC opened up the vast creative
possibilities of radio. This chapter will discuss some of the challenges Beckett found
working in a new medium, his involvement with the radio avant-garde, and the
technological advancements of the time occurring in the field.
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This chapter will also include a discussion of women in Beckett as they are
presented from early in hi s career through the French period in preparation for
discussions of the two female protagonists in All that Fall and Happy Days in Chapters
Four and Five. I will review the work of se veral leading critics in the area of gender in
Beckett studies, including Linda Ben-Zvi, in order to argue that the return to English
represents a fundamental change in Beckett’ s attitude toward wo men in his writing. I
will show that while the early female characte rs in Beckett’s work are little more than
sketches of women, the major female prota gonists of the later works of the second
English period possess a depth of psychology their predecessors lack.
In the second English period, Beckett wrot e several works that seem to draw on
memories of his mother. The last secti on of this chapter will discuss one striking
example found in the female protagonist of Footfalls in the context of Beckett’s
relationship with his mother. The fact that the women share the name “May” is only the
starting point for this examination of the biographical elements and attitude toward
gender that characterize this play. Unlike the critics who believe echoes of Beckett’s
mother appear only in the author’s very last works, I will argue that the return to English
both facilitates and inaugurates Beckett’s us e of these images of his mother. This
discussion will be followed up with comparisons of the female protagonists of All that
Fall and Happy Days with May Beckett in the following two chapters.
Finally, I will conclude that Beckett’s return to English was, in large part, a
fortuitous event with unforeseen effects. The newfound medium of radio opened up new
possibilities that had a profound impact on his writing. The very nature of radio brought
the oral quality of language and now, the Engl ish language, to the fore and thrust Beckett
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back to the lyricism, music, and poetry he ha d so desperately tried to eliminate from his
work. This shift ushered in a prolific pe riod during which Beckett’s writing is also
remarkable for its change in attitude toward women.
3.1 General Information about the Later Plays Composed in English
If one compares the early prose texts from the first English period with those texts
from the French period, several important differe nces are immediately evident. First, the
English texts are much more autobiographical. These works, set in the author’s native
Ireland, develop characters heavily based on people the author knew. For example,
James Knowlson has identified several of the major and minor characters in Dream of
Fair to Middling Women . The Polar Bear is clearly rec ognizable as Beckett’s professor
from Trinity named Rudmose-Brown. The Fr ench character Lucien is based on Jean
Beaufret, Beckett’s friend at the Ecole Normal e. Other characters are based on Beckett’s
real life friends, Alfred Peron, Georges Peloroson, and Henri Evrard.
Beckett never again included such thinly veiled characters based on real people in
his work after Dream of Fair to Middling Women . However, a recognizable Irish setting
does reappear in the works that Beckett writes directly in English after 1954. Also, these
works contain autobiographical images based on one very important real life person: Beckett’s mother. In her essay, “Beckett’s Bilingualism as Autobiography,” Ann Beer
writes, “From the 1950s, however, Beckett’s curi osity about gender, or his sense of the
artistic potential of a new di rection, surfaced. For some cr itics and psychologists, the
death of his own, apparently ve ry dominant, mother in 1950 ga ve him a crucial release.
His writing from then on illustrates an increa sing sensitivity to gender-stereotyping as a
powerful, because still unseen, form of dualistic control, a barrier to freedom.”
3 For
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Beer, the death of Beckett’s mother allows the author to develop the strong female
protagonists of the works Happy Days , Footfalls , Not I , Rockaby , and Ill Seen Ill Said .
Interestingly, Beer dates this change to 1950 even though the first of these works, Happy
Days , is not written until 1961. It was not just the death of Beckett’s mother that was
necessary for the creation of these works but al so Beckett’s return to English. Like Ann
Beer, few critics address the apparent joy with which Beckett returns to his native
language, and with it, to works that evoke the mother.
Music interested Beckett from a young age and he became quite an accomplished
piano player. Although music is a minor infl uence on the work from the first English
period and then the French period, it become s a structuring principle in the play All that
Fall. The latter play is based, I will argue, on the structure of the sonata. This feature,
like the Irish setting and aut obiographical elements, ties the second English period with
the first. In the novel Dream of Fair to Middling Women , the narrator says, “Why we
want to drag in the Syra-Cusa at this j uncture it passes our persimmon to say. She
belongs to another story . . . We could chain her up with the Smeraldina-Rima and the
little Alba . . . and make it look like a sonata, with recurrence of themes, key signatures,
plagal finale and all . . . She could be coaxed into most anything . . . A paragraph ought to
fix her.”4 Here the narrator suggests how he mi ght continue the story with a musical
structure, something he ultimately has neit her the energy nor inclination to do. Although
just a brief passage in an early work, this allusion to the sonata is important because it
describes exactly what Beckett will do when he returns to English with the play All that
Fall.
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In his book, Mediations , Martin Esslin writes, “Thematically, All that Fall clearly
links up with Beckett’s last work in English, Watt . The cast of seedy genteel Irish types,
the provincial milieu, even the railway sta tion, clearly belong to the same world. But
whereas Watt is still narrated in a clinically cool, objective manner, the action of All that
Fall is experienced by the lis tener subjectively from Maddy Rooney’s point of view.”5
Here Esslin points out the important thematic similarities shared by Watt and All that
Fall, the works which bookend the French peri od. Esslin goes on to discuss the new
effects radio allows by creating a space that is half objective and ha lf subjective, given
one can listen to external events as well as to the musings of the mind that interprets these
same events. What results for Esslin is a dream like state in which it is hard to distinguish
reality from fantasy. What interests me more, however, abou t this linking of Watt and
All that Fall is not the narrative pos sibilities of the different media but the manner in
which Beckett returns to these same themes in a striking new style. For example, there is
more emphasis on spoken language, which may be expected in a play written for radio,
and there are more directly au tobiographical elements. I will elaborate on these in the
chapter devoted entirely to All that Fall . The most important difference is without
question the way Beckett develops the fema le character. A comparison of Celia with
Maddy Rooney shows striking changes.
These remarks have demonstrated that both the play that marks the return to
English, All that Fall , and Happy Days are directly linked to Beckett’s earlier English
works. These links are stylistic, thematic, and autobiographical. This chapter will be
devoted to Beckett’s return to English: how it came about and why it is of critical
importance to any understanding of Beckett’s oeuvre.
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3.2 An Invitation from the BBC
Now I would like to address one of the myth s or clichés, as Martin Esslin calls it6,
in Beckett studies concerni ng a so-called commission from the BBC. It has been well
documented that in 1956 B eckett returns to Englis h with his radio play All that Fall after
writing, with very few exceptions, new works only in French for the previous decade.
This is a critical turning point in Beckett’s career and therefore the circumstances of this
shift merit close scrutiny.
In his book Samuel Beckett , Charles Lyons begins the fourth chapter, “In 1956
the BBC commissioned Samuel Beckett to writ e a script suitable for radio production,
and the playwright set to wo rk on the text that became All that Fall .”7 And in her widely
criticized biography, Samuel Beckett , Deirdre Bair also claims that Beckett’s play was a
commission when she writes, “In 1955, the BBC, aware of the inte rnational attention
being given to Beckett, commissioned a radio play from him…”8 One can understand,
however, how these mistakes were made for as Martin Esslin, who was working for the
BBC drama department at the time and therefor e would have had first-hand knowledge of
these events, points out, “Even the cove r of the first American publication of All that Fall
and Embers in the Grove Press paperback, Krapp’s Last Tape and Other Dramatic Pieces
(1960), baldly states: “two radio plays commissioned by the BBC’s Third Programme.”9
More careful scholars and most recent criti cal works have avoided this error. Hugh
Kenner claims in his book, A Reader’s Guide to Samuel Beckett , that Beckett had written
only some of his works at the suggestion of ot hers and that these did not figure among his
very best. Kenner remarks, “But suggestions – not commissions, since he will not regard an arrangement as binding until he has in fact been able to execute the work –
94

suggestions, then, have led him into adventur es with several medi a he would likely not
otherwise have explored.”10 This statement is important not only because in it Kenner
carefully distinguishes between suggestions and commissions but al so for its emphasis on
the fortuitous nature of Beckett’s turn to new media when writing new works. And
James Knowlson, refers to the BBC’s request of Beckett for a new work written
specifically for radio as an “invi tation.” He begins the fourth section of his seventeenth
chapter, “Beckett wrote his first play for radio, All that Fall , during the summer of 1956
at the invitation of the BBC.”11
One may ask why this question is important at all. The answer lies in an
examination of the different circumstances under which Beckett wrote and the shift
between major linguistic periods in his caree r. Early on, Beckett did indeed write works
on commission to supplement his income, usually book and art reviews. These early commissioned works helped Beckett to surviv e materially as well as develop his style
and hone his skills as a writer. In 1955, the BBC request for an original work in English for the Third Programme provides a critical mo tivation for Beckett to write. This request
helps Beckett to survive artistically by a llowing him to explore new media, as Kenner
points out in the passage quoted above. Finally, Beckett is able to escape the dead end
that characterizes the end of the French pe riod, as described in the preceding section.
Beckett is free to explore hi s usual themes of loneliness and suffering as well as to
develop powerful female characters in new media and in his native language.
When the germ of All that Fall came to him, Beckett hesitated at first, but wrote
to a friend, Nancy Cunard, “Nev er thought about radio play t echnique but in the dead of
t’other night got a nice gruesome idea full of cartwheels and dragging of feet and puffing
95

and panting which may or may not lead to something.”12 This of course was the origin of
All that Fall , the first of five radio plays Beckett w ould write over the next 20 years. It is
important to note the enthusiasm Beckett show s for this unexpected opportunity to return
to writing in English. The BBC request marks a crucial turning point in Beckett’s career
and resulted in an opportunity for him to further his overall project in new and
unexpected ways.
3.3 Radio Technique: Voice, Background Sounds, and Music
When Beckett received a request in 1955 fo r a radio play, he was intrigued by the
possibilities offered by this new medium. He intuited immediately how he could create
subtle dramatic effects out of common radio conventions. He also knew how to take
advantage of the supposed weaknesses of radio and turn them to st rengths because this
type of theater necessitates a shift of emphasis from physical aspects to voices and,
therefore, language. As music and backgr ound sounds replace the stage décor, voice
must communicate a great deal more than in ordinary theater because in a radio play,
voice is constantly threatened with silence. Bodies are invisible and can therefore
contribute nothing. In this light, the aut hor’s decision concerni ng the gender of his
protagonist in All that Fall is no small matter. For the first time, Beckett’s main character
is a woman. And though couples have often b een an integral component in his work,
(Mercier et Camier, Didi and Gogo, Pozzo and Lucky, etc.) ther e have rarely been female
characters. It is significant th at Beckett chooses to have a fe male protagonist in this play
when voice is critical and he is returning to his mother tongue. For all of these reasons, it
is no surprise that Beckett is concerned with language in this work. What is new,
however, is his effort to deve lop a female protagonist with great psychological depth.
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Katharine Worth, in her essay, “Becke tt and the Radio Medium,” comments on
the time Beckett spent writing new works in French and his subsequent return to his
native language in the radio play All that Fall . She writes,
A spell of writing in ‘no-tone ’ French seemed to have had
an invigorating effect on his relationship with English, for
when he came back to his firs t language in the radio plays
he was able to make dramatic capital out of the very difficulties he had experienced with too much tone in the past. He took advantage of the ‘blind’ situation of his audience, which necessarily i nvolves closer listening, to
make demands for very close listening indeed, listening such as the artist himself mu st practice, in order to
distinguish the right tones, the natural from the affected, the
true from the false, the half realized from the fully realized.”

One of the ways in which Beckett turned the deficit of sight in radio to his
advantage was to include blind charac ters in his work, like Mr. Rooney in All that Fall ,
and the old blind man in Embers . This handicap reminds the listener of his own inability
to see and deepens his identification with th e character. One of the most subtle and
poignant sounds in All that Fall is the soft tapping of Mr. Rooney’s cane when contrasted
against the great noise of the train.
In order to better understand Beckett’s accomplishment and to contextualize his
efforts in radio, some background information on the BBC is useful. The British
Broadcasting Corporation began its fi rst daily broadcasting 14 November, 1923.13 Since
that time it has had to continually adapt to the needs of evolving political and societal
situations. It has done so, in part, thr ough technical changes and advances. One can
discern three distinct phas es of the BBC: prewar, wartime, and postwar. The first
consisted of only two programs, the National and the Regional, which were merged into
the Home Service in response to the demands of wartime. During the war, the General
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Forces Programme was also in troduced to improve the morale of troops and allow them
and their families at home to share the same news at the same time.14 The final phase
consisted of reorganization largely along cl ass lines into the Light, Home, and Third
Programmes. The director of the BBC, Sir William Haley, believed this division would
provide listeners with a “c omplete cultural spectrum.”15 This structure allowed for
broadcasts aimed at large audiences seeki ng popular entertainmen t while not neglecting
avant-garde productions aimed at more intellec tual listeners. In th e early seventies the
BBC programs were again overhauled and rena med. The light entertainment was called
Radio 1 while classical music was broadcas t on Radio 2 and what had been the Third
Programme was now called Radio 3. The Home Service became Radio 4 and Radio 5, a
24-hour news station, was added. These cha nges were due to shifting demands of the
public driven, in part, by radio “pirates” broadcasting popular musi c from ships in the
North Sea.16
The Third Programme was “designed for the attentive listener who, on occasion,
is prepared to listen to broadcasts that are demanding and of considerable length.”17
Though it faced financial vulnera bilities and criticism for se gregating programming, the
Third Programme gave artists the chance to broadcast experimental works. Georges
Barnes, who was in control of programming, s upported artistic innovati on and helped to
make the Third Programme a driving force in the avant-garde of music and literature.18
Since the first radio plays in which actors shared a single microphone and
followed the instruction of a pantomiming director, there has been a technological revolution in radio. Early on, the introduction in 1928 of the control panel allowing live
mixing from one studio to another divided the studio space. Several different rooms were
98

used for recording actors while a separate “noise room” was reserved for sound effects.
The introduction of portable recording devices allowed actors to be recorded alone and
then mixed into the larger produc tion. In fact, Beckett’s play, Krapp’s Last Tape ,
explored Beckett’s fascination with the portabl e tape recorder and its ability to capture,
store, and edit voices.
Probably the biggest advancement in radio came in the 1950s with the
introduction of Frequency Modulation (FM) and Very High Frequency (VHF), which
dramatically enhanced the s ound quality of broadcasts. With almost no interference,
listeners could better hear a radio play a nd discern its nuances. Second to FM was the
introduction of stereo sound which allowed the placement of sound on the left or right. Voices which previously could only approach or recede through a fade, could now move
back and forth laterally. Berge writes in her thesis, “Characters may thus be perceived, or
located, in terms of the microphone's own ‘vie wpoint.’ This may be static, allowing the
voices to do the moving, or in motion, 'movi ng' the microphone with the characters.”
19
In the case of All that Fall , Beckett kept the microphone always with Mrs. Rooney, the
protagonist. This strengthens her role by ma king it clear she is the main character and
allowing her to narrate events which do not depend on dialogue. All other sounds are
faded up which creates the effect that they gradually arrive from a distance.
Beckett’s demands for elaborate sound effects in All that Fall tested the limits of
the technology of the time and demonstrated the need for further advances. Katharine
Worth writes, “Donald McWhinnie and Martin Esslin tell how the highly complex and sophisticated sound effects required for
All that Fall forced radical experiments in the
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BBC sound effects department and resulted in the creation of a new Radiophonic
Workshop.”20
In his book, Mediations , Martin Esslin gives very detailed information on
Beckett’s work in radio. Esslin is an unusua lly strong authority on th is subject, thanks to
having worked many years for the BBC and, more specifically, during the period in
question. He recounts Beckett’s relationship with the BBC’s Third Programme and
describes the innovative force that the produc tion of Beckett’s first radio play had on
radio technique in Britain. “New methods,” Essl in writes, “had to be found to extract the
various sounds needed (both animal and mechan ical – footsteps, cars, bicycle wheels, the
train, the cart) from the simple naturalism of the hundreds of records in the BBC’s effects
library. Briscoe [sound technician] (and hi s gramophone operator, Norman Baines) had
to invent ways and means to remove these sounds from the purely realistic sphere. They did so by treating them electronically: slowing down, speeding up, adding echo,
fragmenting them by cutting them into segments, and putting them together in new way.”
21
In All that Fall , Beckett perhaps real ized that the sound effects would risk
becoming outdated. In the play, he used them to avoid any sense of realism and to create
a strict metrical pattern. Th e opening animal sounds, for in stance, are all obvious human
imitations. These effects, in contrast w ith today’s more sophisticated technology, are
now considered old-fashioned. Beckett ma y have been aware, as Berge comments
convincingly, that this only serves to hei ghten the themes of th e play. She writes,
At any rate, if we look at th e general state of affairs in All
That Fall , irrespective of the tec hnical quality of the sound
effects, we find that: the bicycle brakes squeak; the bicycle
itself bumps along with a flat ti re; the car engine needs to
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be choked into action; Mrs. Rooney's voice is old and
broken, and Schubert's “Death a nd the Maiden” is played
on an old gramophone. Practically every element in All
That Fall displays some degree of ageing or decay.22

3.4 Linda Ben-Zvi’s Women in Beckett on gender in Beckett
Any thoughtful consideration of gender in Beckett must take account of the
insightful and compelling critical information in Linda Ben-Zvi’s book, Women in
Beckett: Performance and Critical Perspectives . The book is a collection of interviews
and critical essays devoted en tirely to questions of gender in Beckett. The book is divided
into two sections and the first, “Acting B eckett’s Women,” is made up of 12 interviews
with noteworthy Beckettian actresses from around the world. In most cases, these were
women who had acted in many of Beckett’s pl ays, were directed by Beckett himself and,
in some cases, may have had parts specifica lly written for them. These women, having
often worked closely with Beckett, were able to provide the unique perspective of one
who had performed Beckett’s female roles in an authorized production. The second
section of the book, “Re-acting to Beckett’s Women,” consists of 19 critical essays
divided into the following four subsecti ons: “Fiction,” “From Fiction to Drama,”
“Drama: The Stage,” and “Drama: Radio & Tele vision.” These sections are more or less
organized in chronological order to parallel early, middle, and late Beckett and contain
essays from the leading critics in Beckett studies. Although they cover a wide variety of
topics, the common thread that binds them is Beckett’s treatment of gender.
Ben-Zvi begins her analysis by remarking, “The metaphysical human condition
Beckett describes is not gender specific.”23 This important concession might seem to
suggest that gender is not relevant to Beckett studies. Ho wever, she goes on to explain
that all of Beckett’s characters live in a wo rld, “…shaped to a large degree by societal
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constructs of gender that so often mark male and female behavior and shape
personality.”24 Armed with the justification for he r inquiry, Ben-Zvi gives a couple of
examples of how this gendered world is refl ected in Beckett’s works. First, Beckett’s
women have more difficulty coping with the passage of time, the universal enemy of
Beckett’s characters, because of society’ s pressure on women to appear always young
and beautiful. For an example of this ge nder-specific suffering, one need only think of
Winnie holding up the mirror in Happy Days . Second, Beckett has been steadfast in his
refusal to allow the gender of his characters to be changed in theatrical productions. This is a revealing refusal because, as Ben-Zv i points out, it does not deny the suffering of
women, it simply demonstrates that for Beckett, the form of that suffering in a gendered
world is important. Simply put, society dict ates that men suffer one way and women
another. Ben-Zvi remarks that it is because th e form is so closely tied to the theme in
these works that questions of gender should not be ignored.
25
Clearly, Beckett’s early fict ion is the domain of male s and perhaps it is not by
accident, as Ben-Zvi points out, that the prot agonists of the earlier works most often
begin with the letter M or its inverse W as has been noted above in the brief comments
about names in Beckett in Chapter 4. The most important of these in the early fiction are
Murphy, Molloy, Malone, Moran, and Watt. I w ould add however that the central female
roles of the later works make ample use of the same letters – Maddy in All that Fall ,
Winnie in Happy Days , and May in Footfalls . Beckett’s attention to detail and names is
well known and here is another example of the late Becke tt “Women/feMales”
appropriating the letters M and W of the early Beckett “Men/Males.”
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Ben-Zvi’s analysis first reviews the ma ny minor female characters in the early
works and demonstrates that they follow c onventional stereotypes of mothers and lovers
with few exceptions. These women are always dependent on the male characters for their
existence and meaning. Ben-Zvi writes, “It is his struggles with them [women], his fears
of them, and his need for them which shape the actions and the portraits Beckett
offers.”26 She also points out th at it is not until the late fiction, in plays like Happy Days ,
that Beckett’s women develop beyond shallow pr ojections of male desire and fear into
“real” women struggling with the same meta physical questions as Beckett’s men but in
different and specifically feminine ways. It is society’s conditioning of women that
causes them to react to adversity the way th ey do in these plays. The quintessential
example is Winnie buried in her mound in Happy Days . She has all the accessories,
including bag, makeup, and umbrella, as well as the polite routine – she says her prayers
and reads the classics – that society demands of a proper lady. And yet, she is keenly
aware of her horrifying situation and struggles to survive. Her exhortation to herself in
the face of overwhelming despair, “on Winnie,” ties her to the male characters of the
French period who use similar expressions like the Unnamable whose last words are, “you must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on.” Ben-Zvi comes to the remarkable conclusion that many of Beckett’s actresses echo in interviews when she remarks, “Beckett’s Winnie is thus not only a woman; she is the physical embodiment of the condition of being a
woman in her society.”
27
Ben-Zvi proposes the very interesting thesis in her introduction that Beckett’s
depictions of women in his later works su rpass his earlier stereotypic sketches and
present true women in a gendered world. While I agree with this thesis, for the purposes
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of the present study, I would seek to develop it by emphasizing chronology in the context
of the three periods of Beckett’s writing I ha ve outlined. The shift over time in Beckett’s
treatment of women that Ben-Zvi perceives is better understood in this larger, more
structured, context. Ben-Zvi, using “fiction” to mean early fiction and specifically not the
theater, states her thesis thus, “Perhaps becau se the fiction has its genesis in an earlier
period of Beckett’s own personal and professi onal development, his early portraits of
women in the fiction are far more stereotypic and scathing than any in the later drama,
the author less distanced from the gender stereotype he is depicting.” 28 This statement
begs two important questions: How and why does Beckett’s early personal and
professional development color his attitude toward gender? And, how and why is the
author less distanced from the women of the later plays? Although Ben-Zvi goes on to
outline the basic differences between Beckett’s early and late female characters, supporting her claims with examples, she leaves these two important questions
unanswered, yet the critical essays in the latter half of the book do address these points
indirectly.
In relation to the first question regarding gender, two essays in particular stand
out: “Beckett and the Heresy of Love” by James Acheson and “Clods, Whores, and
Bitches: Misogyny in Beckett’s Early Fic tion” by Susan Brienza. Acheson uses
examples taken from Beckett’s works, “Assumption,” “First Love,” Murphy , and Krapp’s
Last Tape , to demonstrate Beckett’s shifting att itude towards love over time. Acheson
develops the thesis that love is first seen to threaten the artist with destruction but that in
the later works it also offers a fleeting chance of happiness. In the early texts such as
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“Assumption” and Murphy , Beckett’s characters possess what Acheson calls a “religion
of self.”29
In Beckett’s first short story, “Assump tion,” this religion is based upon the
artist/protagonist’s desire to create perf ect art. Beckett’s unnamed protagonist
“struggle[s] for divinity”30 by attempting to resolve what will become a common
Beckettian dilemma: the compulsion to expr ess, coupled with a lack of anything to
express. With this situation at hand, “the Woman”31 enters the text. The capital W here
and, by extension the generalization of all wo men, is not to be overlooked. Importantly,
her arrival is compared to an “irruption of demons”32 thereby rounding out the religious
metaphor and creating the possibility of what Acheson calls the heresy of love because
“in spite of himself, the artist finds her attractive.”33 The affair with the Woman and
subsequent sexual union seems at first to lead to spiritual enlightenment for, as Acheson
points out, mystic knowledge of God is ofte n expressed in sexual terms. However,
Acheson makes the argument that it is more lik ely the case that the artist has simply been
distracted from his religion of self and this ultimately leads to his destruction. At the end
of the story the Woman is “swept aside”34 by the artist’s overpowering and fatal urge to
express, which results in a great shriek.
In her essay, “Clods, Whores, and Bitche s: Misogyny in Beckett’s Early Fiction,”
Susan Brienza sums up the women of early B eckett texts thus, “A concentrated reading
of the early fiction reveals a disturbing negative depiction of female characters: coupled
with a pervasive disgust, cruel humor, and Sw iftian revilement towa rd her physicality is
the idea that woman as clod of earth impedes intellectual man.”35 Brienza notes that the
early female characters vacillate between extr emes that result in stereotypes or parodies
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of stereotypes. They are either attractive, in which case they are per ceived as a threat to
the male characters, or they are grotesque, in which case they are ridiculed. The men,
informed with Cartesian philosophy, are intens ely aware of a mind/body split. Unlike the
romantics, for them sensuality does not offer a path to spiritual enlightenment. Therefore, the women, as impediments to inte llectual transcendence, are to be feared,
even loathed.
In answer to the second question posed earlier regarding the women in the later
plays, I would argue that it is Beckett’s re turn to his mother tongue and an important
biographical event, his mother’s death in 1950, that facilitate th e strikingly more
developed portrayals of women in the later pl ays. Ultimately, Beckett’s attitude toward
gender evolves over time in relation to his unique bilingualism. I will develop this idea
further in the following two chapters, which are devoted to a radio play, All that Fall , and
a stage play, Happy Days , both of which feature prom inent female protagonists.
3.5 Footfalls and May Beckett
In this section I would like to provide an example of one of Beckett’s later plays,
Footfalls , and analyze its possible autobiographical elements and themes of gender.
Although this play is written after All that Fall and Happy Days , which are the focus of
this dissertation, the play is in many ways the culmination of Beckett’s new attitude
toward gender and autobiography that th e return to Englis h initiates.
Footfalls , written in English in 1975, is a ve ry short play which follows the
interaction of two characters, the disheveled and gray-haire d May and a Woman’s Voice.
Onstage, May is confined to a very narrow strip of space that allows exactly seven (nine, in a later version) steps. She continually pa ces up and down this space, turning when she
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reaches its extremity. A trailing wrap hides her feet. Stage directions indicate her steps
make a “clearly audible rhythmic tread” and th e lighting is described as “dim, strongest at
floor level, less on body, least on head.”36
This play is fascinating in many respect s and serves as a striking example of
Beckett’s “theatereality” (Ruby Cohn’s term) in David Pattie’s essay, “Space, Time and
the Self in Beckett’s Late Theatre.” In his essay, Pattie reviews the canonical approach in
Beckett criticism to the ways in which Beck ett undermines the conventions of dramatic
time and space. Briefly, this view holds th at Beckett’s characters exist only in the
moment of performance. They have no pa st nor future nor realm of being beyond the
stage that would rely on a willing suspension of disbelief. This leaves only the subject,
whose very existence, as Pattie argues, is profoundly calle d into question.
However, it is not my intention in this s ection to evaluate Pattie’s arguments but
instead to examine the possible autobiographical elements and themes of gender in this
play. Pattie’s thesis that this play furt hers Beckett’s wide-ranging tendency toward the
disintegration of the self in his plays is important, for it shows that although Beckett’s
treatment of language and gender change after the return to English, his major themes do
not.
The first potentially autobiographical elements one notices in this text are the lone
character name and her relationshi p to Voice. The play begins:
M: Mother. [ Pause. No louder.] Mother.
[Pause ]
V: Yes, May.
M: Were you asleep?
V: Deep asleep. [ Pause .] I heard you in my deep sleep.
[Pause .] There is no sleep so d eep that I would not hear
you there. [ Pause. M resumes pacing. Four lengths. After
first length, sync hronous with steps .] One two three four
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five six seven eight nine wheel one two three four five six
seven eight nine wheel. ( Collected Shorter Plays 239)

The first word of the play establishes the relationship between the two characters
and initiates the mother/daughter theme that will be developed throughout the play. The
second line reveals the name of the speaker , May, which was also Beckett’s mother’s
name. The author’s concern with names is well established and so this coincidence
cannot be overlooked. It is al so important to point out that the play assigns lines to M
and not May, which recalls Beckett’s preoccupa tion with this letter along with its inverse
when May refers to a Mrs. W.
The status of both characters is unclear from the beginning given the
indeterminacy and ritualisti c repetition that surrounds th em. The character Voice is
particularly obscure and quite possibly only ex ists in May’s head. May’s apparent old
age, signified by her grey ha ir, the reference to sleep, a nd the emphasis on a deep sleep
evoke death and the possibility May is comm unicating with her dead mother. The bond
between mother and daughter is presented as unbreakable when Voice says there is no
sleep so deep she would not hear May. The last line quoted above works to shift the
relationship from two adults to adult and child, which furthe r brings one’s focus to the
strength of this primal bond. This shift occurs as May count s her steps like a child first
learning numbers and synchroni zes her steps with the numbers, thereby reducing their
abstraction to a physical act. One of the di fficulties of this play is that the words
synchronize with the action even while the characters move towards disintegration.
Mary Bryden, in her book, Women in Samuel Beckett’s Prose and Drama ,
devotes a chapter to the figure of the mother in Beckett’s writing entitled,
“Otherhood/Motherhood/Smotherhood? The Mother in Beckett’s Writing” in which she
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carefully traces depictions of parenthood in Beckett’s work. She argues that fathers are
generally absent from the fiction and show little affection to their offspring when they are
present. Mothers are much more common a nd presented as solely responsible for the
suffering of existence. In bearing children, th ey condemn them to a life filled with pain
and the fate of certain death.37 Beckett often complained of horrific prenatal memories.
Birth is given special status throughout his writing as the pa inful beginning of a life of
suffering. In the early fiction, women bear the blame for the brutal act of birth. This changes, however, in the later works. “…the mother relation,” Bryden writes,
“undergoes (though perhaps more slowly and painfully) the same process of
‘deterritorialisation’ as does the woman-figure, leading to a much gentler incorporation of
the maternal referent in Beckett’s later work.”
38 Bryden cites Footfalls as an example, in
which she claims the apprehended presences ar e strikingly tender images of the female.
This is in part based on the opening passage quoted above, which reveals a remarkably
strong and affectionate mother/daughter relationship.
Bryden points out that this is also the only play in which a mother asks her child
forgiveness for bringing her into the world. Voice says, “I had you late. [ Pause .] In life.
[Pause .] Forgive me again. [ Pause . No louder.] Forgive me again.”39 The singularity of
this relationship leads Bryden to view it in terms of écriture feminine (feminine writing)
as theorized by Hélène Cixous. While the sc ope of this dissertat ion does not allow a
comprehensive review of this theory, certain salient charact eristics of the play may be
noted and viewed in this perspective.
The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism defines écriture feminine as “a
radical, disruptive mode of “feminine” writi ng that is opposed to patriarchal discourse
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with its rigid grammar, bounda ries, and categories; tapping into the Imaginary, it gives
voice to the unconscious, the body, the nonsubjectiv e, and polymorphous drives.” This
theory follows from Jacques Lacan’s theo ry of psychosocial development which the
Norton Anthology describes as “an “Imaginary order” – a mother-centered,
nonsubjugated, presymbolic, pre-oedipal space of bodily drives and rhythms (linked with
the unconscious).” Although rooted in Freud’ s theory of the Oedipal complex, Cixous’
view concentrates on the pre- oedipal stage of development. It therefore privileges
experience over language and avoids the lim its of logocentrism. Cixous believes that
men are capable of feminine writing and cite s Jean Genet and James Joyce as examples.
In my view, Beckett’s Footfalls also fits into this category.
As Bryden notes, feminine writing has e ndeavored to deconstruct taboos based on
the female body while simultaneously locating the creation of the text in the female body.
40 In this context, materiality is of the utmost importance. May, like almost all of
Beckett’s characters, is consta ntly threatened with disintegration, yet never succumbs to
this danger. Physicality is underscored when Voice quotes May as a child, “Till one night, while still little more than a child, she called her moth er and said, Mother, this is
not enough. The mother: Not enough? May – the child’s given name –May: not enough.
The mother: What do you mean, May, not e nough, what can you possibly mean, May, not
enough? May: I mean, Mother, that I must hear the feet, however faint they fall.”
41
Another quality of feminine writing that Footfalls possesses is a lowering of the
status of sight. This is in opposition to the gaze of the patriarch whic h may be directed at
the female object. In compensation for the di minished sight, the senses of touch and
hearing are promoted. Bryden remarks on the aural qualities of the play when she writes,
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“the decentring voice projection techniques in these late play s: by means of these, the
spectator/listener, straining fo r vision, is rendered intens ely dependent upon the voice-
sounds throughout.” These techniques, of course, originate in Beckett’s radio plays,
which achieve the same effect.
The final and most important qua lity of feminine writing that Footfalls
demonstrates is that of the mother/daughter relationship, which Cixous describes, “En la
femme, la mère et la fille se retrouvent, se préservent, l’une avec l’autre, l’enfance entre
dans la maturité” ( La Venue a l’écriture )42 These qualities are evid ent in the characters
May and Voice as they compare their memori es of past events. Bryden sums up, “The
voicing of exile, the privile ging of mother/daughter bondi ng with its capacities for
interfusion, the ample recourse to multip le voicing, ambiguity, repetition and open-
endedness, the resistance to penetration by patriarchal spectatorship, to explicitness,
foreclosure and appropriation: th ese characteristics all invite Footfalls and Rockaby into
allegiance with écriture féminine.”43
3.6 Conclusion
Beckett was never again to be as prolific as he had been during the French period,
when writing in French was “exciting” and motivating. This burst of output could not,
however, be maintained indefinitely. In th e previous chapter, I have reviewed the
creative difficulties Beckett enc ountered while writing the play La Dernière bande . One
may hypothesize that Beckett had exhausted th e new possibilities afforded him by writing
in French. If this was the case, a fortuitous request from the BBC for an English language radio play provided him with a new direction and renewed creativity and
enthusiasm. Beckett’s own anecdote about his inspiration for the play reveals a telling
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detail. In the letter to Nanc y Cunard, Beckett writes, “…in the dead of t’other night got a
nice gruesome idea….” The inspiration for this work arrived either in sleep or a period
of insomnia but certainly not as a result of some supreme mental effort of the sort La
Dernière bande or the translation of L’Innommable had required.
Ann Beer, in her book, Beckett’s Bilingualism , writes, “During this period,
though, a move back towards English became in evitable given the relentless advance of
Beckett’s fame after the staging of En Attendant Godot .”44 She goes on to explain that
the English-speaking audience that had el uded him early on in his career was now
forming and implies that for this reason, he returned to English. I strongly disagree;
Beckett was never one to write for any particular audience or public. It is my contention
instead that creative difficulties at the end of the French period paired with an unexpected
request from the BBC, brought Beckett back to English. Beer overlooks these important
factors in her essay and does not directly take on the question of why Beckett would
return to English after such a prolific period in French.
Beckett’s return to English was thus unforeseen and had profound implications
for his writing. Beckett’s unceasing efforts, through the use of language, to depict man’s
suffering and struggle for survival remained int act in spite of the shift back to English.
The style of the writing change d dramatically, however, as th e influence of music, poetry
and biographical details could be felt. I shal l demonstrate in the following two chapters
that Beckett relied heavily on music for the st ructure, themes, and elaboration of his play
All that Fall . This play also contained a great number of biographical details from his
childhood. In the case of Happy Days , the poetry of Dante’s Divine Comedy is a major
source wherein Beckett found the striking visual images of the partially entombed
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protagonist as well as a means of expressing the vulnerability of man’s reliance on
language through repeated use of the phrase “sweet old style.”
In addition, Beckett’s depiction of wome n evolved. In his earlier works the
female protagonists were rarely more than sh allow sketches of the negative stereotypes of
women. These depictions were harsh, unfla ttering, critical portrayals of women who
openly threatened men. The danger of these wo men rested in their potential to distract
men from their more noble artistic pursuits with either sex or love. In the second English
period, female characters are fully developed psychologically and face the same difficult
existential and linguistic questions of Beckett’ s earlier male characters. Perhaps some of
this shift in attitude toward women is due to the fact that Beckett’s later female
protagonists are older, more matronly, women in whom many critics have seen affinities
with Beckett’s mother.
The period of impasse at the end of th e French period was broken not only by a
linguistic shift to English but also by a shift in medium to radio. Beckett’s innovations in
his radio plays carried over to his plays for the stage and contributed to his development
of female characters who were vastly differe nt from those who had come before. These
changes culminated in the play Footfalls , which may be viewed as an example of écriture
feminine , thanks to its presentation of the moth er/daughter relationshi p and its treatment
of the female protagonist and her mother.
The following two chapters are devoted to Beckett’s plays All that Fall and
Happy Days which will provide detailed examples of the changes in writing style and
gender roles that coincide with Beckett’s return to English.

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3.7 Notes

1 Gontarski, S.E. Beckett’s Happy Days: A Manuscript Study . p. 7

2 Gontarski, S. E., p. 11

3 Beer, Ann, "No-Man's-Land: Beckett's Bilingualism as Autobiography." p. 173

4 Beckett, Samuel, Dream of Fair to Middling Women . p. 149

5 Esslin, Martin Mediations. p. 130

6 Esslin, Martin Mediations . p. 125

7 Lyons, Charles R. Samuel Beckett . p. 75

8 Bair, Deirdre p. 423

9 Esslin, Martin Mediations . p.125

10 Kenner, Hugh A Reader’s Guide to Samuel Beckett . London Thames and Hudson LTD, 1973 p. 159

11 Knowlson, James p. 385

12 Quoted from original “Beckett Festival of Radio Plays” program

13 Briggs, Asa The BBC The First Fifty Years New York: Oxford University Press 1985 p. 37

14 Briggs, Asa p. 230

15 Briggs, Asa p. 244

16 Briggs, Asa p. 345

17 As Quoted in Briggs, Asa p. 346

18 Briggs, Asa pp. 246-247

19 Berge, Marit Gallie Samuel Beckett's Radio Plays: Music of the Absurd Oslo, Norway: Hovedoppgave
University of Oslo 1998.

20 Worth, Katharine “Beckett and the Radio Medium” in Drakakis, John. British Radio Drama Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press 1981. p. 192

21 Esslin, Martin. Mediations p.122

22 Berge, Marit Gallie. p. 34

23 Ben-Zvi, Linda. p.ix

24 Ben-Zvi, Linda. p. x

25 Ben-Zvi, Linda. p. xi

114

26 Ben-Zvi, Linda. p. xi

27 Ben-Zvi, Linda. p. xiii

28 Ben-Zvi, Linda p. xi

29 Acheson, James “Beckett and the Heresy of Love” in Ben-Zvi, p. 71

30 Quoted by Acheson, James. from Beckett, Samuel. “Assumption” in transition 16-17 (June 1929) pp.
268-271 (269)

31 Ben-Zvi, Linda p. 270

32 Ben-Zvi, Linda p. 270

33 Acheson, James “Beckett and the Heresy of Love” in Ben-Zvi, p. 69

34 Acheson, James p. 70

35 Brienza, Susan “Clods, Whores, and Bitches: Misogyny in Beckett’s Early Fiction” in Ben-Zvi p. 91

36 Beckett, Samuel Collected Shorter Plays . 1st hardcover ed. New York: Grove Press, 1984.

37 Bryden, Mary. Women in Samuel Beckett's Pr ose and Drama: Her Own Other . Lanham, MD: Barnes &
Noble, 1993. pp. 163-164

38 Bryden, Mary. p. 179

39 Beckett, Samuel Collected Shorter Plays p. 240

40 Bryden, Mary p. 187

41 Bryden, Mary p. 241

42 Quoted in Bryden, Mary p. 190

43 Bryden, Mary p.192

44 Beer, Ann. "Beckett's Bilingualism." The Cambridge Companion to Beckett . Cambridge Companions to
Literature (Cctl). Cambridge, England: Cambridge UP, 1996. 209-21. p 213
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CHAPTER 4. BECKETT’S ALL THAT FALL
In this chapter I will continue to ex amine Beckett’s bilingualism by focusing on
one particularly important work, the play All that Fall . I will show that Beckett’s return
to English after ten years of composing new works almost exclusively in French has a
profound impact on his work and th at this play is an excellent example of that impact.
Beckett’s juvenilia and early professional wr iting placed him squarely in the English
tradition. The switch to French facilitated Beckett’s developm ent of his mature style.
This style is characterized by a complex philosophical expl oration of both writing and the
human condition. Beckett explores what it m eans both to live and experience the world
and what it means to undertake to convey this in writing.
The mature French style differs sharply fr om what comes out of the period I refer
to as the return to English. These differences raise many questions, for example, whether
there is a unifying purpose/pro ject common to all Beckett’s work. If so, why does his
focus change when he begins to compose agai n in English? Do personal relationships, in
particular, Beckett’s relationship with hi s mother, influence the writing? Why does
Beckett seemingly embrace the “poetry” of Eng lish he so strongly rej ected earlier in his
life? This chapter will attempt to provide answers to these questions.
I will begin with an analysis of the plot structure of All that Fall , which is divided
into three sections or movements. I choose to use the musical term because music and the music of language are so important in this work meant for radio. These three
movements recount Maddy Rooney’s journey to and from the Boghill train station to pick
up her husband, Dan. I will also discuss the ma jor themes developed in this play and
how the circular structure of the play serves to highlight them.
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In the second section of this chapter I w ill discuss the distinct Irish flavor of the
play. It is set in what could be any small Irish town, the characters all have Irish names,
and the language they use is characterized by Irish expressions and slang. This feature of
the play is important because it represents a shift back to the r ecognizable locations and
language that Beckett had stripped away fr om his writing during the French period. And
not only does he return to Ireland in this wo rk, he returns to the Ireland of his youth by
including numerous biographical references that critics, partic ularly James Knowlson,
have revealed.
I will discuss in detail two major themes of the play, death and decay. I include
this discussion to contrast the preceding one and analyze a theme found elsewhere in
Beckett’s work. In this way I hope to bri ng to light both what changes in Beckett’s
writing when he returns to English and what remains constant. I wi ll demonstrate that
Beckett, in developing this theme, is able to create an equally arre sting image of life in
spite of writing in English, including biographical details, and basing the entire work
heavily on music.
In the following section I will fully analyze the influence of music on the play. In
the opening scene the protagonist (and the listener) hear Schubert ’s “Death and the
Maiden” playing in an old house in the distance. This is an importa nt detail that gives a
clue as to the overall structure of the play. In this section I will compare the form of the
sonata with the structure of Beckett’s play and trace the parallels that exist between
Schubert’s “Death and the Maiden” and Beckett’s All that Fall .
Sections five and six will take up the issu e of gender in this play. First, I will
discuss Mrs. Rooney and her various roles of mother, daughter, and lover. I will explore
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this female protagonist’s extrao rdinary depth of charac ter that is in such sharp contrast to
Beckett’s earlier female characters. S econd, I will discuss one probable biographical
detail in the play that links Mrs. Rooney and Beckett’s mother.
This chapter will argue in conclusion that Beckett’s return to English with the
radio play All that Fall ushers in stylistic elements pr eviously suppressed in his work.
The distinct Irish setting, numerous biographical refe rences, and musically based
structure of the play are all related to the re turn to English. Also, Beckett’s mother is
evoked in this play unlike in hi s earlier works. This does not mean, however, that certain
recurring themes such as death and decay disappear. Indeed, these core themes found in
almost all of his writing con tinue to be explored and de veloped in the second English
period.
4.1 Plot Structure: Three Movements
Beckett’s play All that Fall is set in the fictional town of Boghill and though not
stated in the text, this is unmistakably Ireland. The play begins with the bucolic sounds
of animals, the shuffling of Mrs. Rooney’s feet, and the playing far off of Schubert’s
“Death and the Maiden.” Mrs. Rooney, the te xt informs the reader, is “a lady in her
seventies” and despite her age and obesity, she is on her way to the train station to
surprise her blind husband, Dan, for his birthday. The entire play may be divided into
three separate movements. The first consists of Mrs. Rooney’s journey to the train station, while the second is her time spent at the station searching for her husband. The
third is the couple’s journey hom e. This play has a definite plot that drives the story
forward and develops themes of womanhood, the death of children, and old age.
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On her way to meet her husband’s trai n, Mrs. Rooney has a series of three
encounters with local villagers, all men. The first person she m eets is Christy, the carter.
They have a short exchange concerning famil y, and Christy offers to sell Mrs. Rooney a
load of dung. Mrs. Rooney, appalled, declines the offer and becomes emotional when
Christy begins to beat his hinny to make her move. Mrs. Rooney looks into the hinny’s eyes and begins a long nostalgic monologue th at recounts the various disappointments in
her life. At the end of her speech, just be fore she moves on, she says, “There is that
lovely laburnum again.” (14) What might first seem an uni mportant detail serves as a
subtle landmark in the play, for Mrs. Rooney will mention it again later.
Mrs. Rooney next meets Mr. Tyler, the re tired bill-broker. He arrives on his
bicycle and stops to chat for a few minutes. Their conversation also centers on family
and the diverse misfortunes of their friends and neighbors. However, here Mrs. Rooney
becomes more playful and the two begin to fl irt. Mr. Tyler, who had pumped his tire
firm before departing, now finds his rear tire flat. He de parts cursing and riding on the
rim.
The final meeting comes with Mr. Slocum, the clerk of the local racecourse, who
arrives in his car and stops to enquire whethe r Mrs. Rooney is all ri ght, as he sees her
bent double. The two have a short exchange similar to the previous ones enquiring about
the health of family. Mr. Slocum then offers her a lift and her ensui ng attempts to get in
the car are a comedy of errors. Once she is aboard, Mr. Slocum attempts to start the car
but fails. It has gone dead. He chokes the en gine and finally succeeds in starting it up and
the two finish the journey to the station. When they arrive, Mrs. Rooney has just as much
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difficulty descending from the car as she ha d getting in. Tommy, a boy who works at the
station, helps her.
These meetings make up the first moveme nt of the play and are notable for the
varied themes they develop through repetiti on. I will discuss the theme of death and
decay that runs through the play at length below but one important element of this theme
is already evident: locomotion. One of the firs t sounds the listener hears is that of Mrs.
Rooney’s shuffling feet. From here Beckett introduces gr adually more sophisticated
forms of travel. Christy also walks but could easily ride in his cart. Mr. Tyler travels by
bicycle and Mr. Slocum has an automobile. Yet, despite the increasing technological
innovation of each form of travel, they all ar e beset with problems. Christy must whip
the hinny to make her go, Mr. Tyler’s tire goes fl at, and Mr. Slocum’s engine dies. These
are all subtle variations on the same them e that lend the play the musical quality of
variations on a theme. This also wi ll be discussed at greater length below.
In general, the first movement is characterized by calm, solitude, and individual
encounters with others. Mrs. Rooney’s feet shuffle as she makes her way to the station
and comments on the good weather and pleasin g scenery. The road represents danger,
for she fears being hit by Mr. Tyler’s bicycle and is aghast when Mr. Slocum runs over a
hen. She even imagines what it would be like, saying, “What a death! One minute picking happy at the dung, on the road, in th e sun, with now and then a dust bath, and
then – bang! – all her troubles over.” (19) In spit e of this danger, she negotiates the road
successfully and arrives at the station, where the mood of the play will change
dramatically.
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The second movement of the play begins when Mrs. Rooney arrives at the station
and meets Tommy and Mr. Barrell, the stati onmaster. Mr. Barrell chats with Mrs.
Rooney at the foot of the grueling ascent of the steps of the stati on and the two discuss
the now familiar topics of family and health. At this point they realize the train is late
and Mrs. Rooney remarks the weather is chan ging. She says, “The wind is getting up.
[Pause. Wind. ] The best of the day is over. [ Pause. Wind. Dreamily ] Soon the rain will
begin to fall and go on falling, a ll afternoon.” (21) Just as th ere is a shift in activity in
this movement, there is a corres ponding worsening of the weather.
Mrs. Rooney then spies an acquaintance with the wonde rfully Beckettian name
“Miss Fitt,” who is indeed a striking example of a misfit. When the two speak, Miss Fitt
launches into a long explanation of her bi zarre inability to recognize people or
concentrate on normal activities because she is so “distray.” (22) Mrs. Rooney asks Miss
Fitt to help her up the stairs, which she calls, “the face of this cliff.” (23) During the
ascent, Mrs. Rooney again compares the stai rs to a mountain, this time the Matterhorn.
She also begins singing a song but can only remember a few of the words.
At this point Mrs. Rooney’s overhears a woman and her daughter making fun of
her. Several characters speak in quick progression one after another. In a short time Miss
Fitt, Mrs. Rooney, Mr. Tyler, A Female Voi ce, Dolly, and Mr. Barrell all speak. Mrs.
Rooney makes it to the top of the stairs. A Female Voice warns her daughter of the
danger of standing too close to the tracks. She tells her daughter , “Give me your hand
and hold me tight, one can be sucked under.” (25) Mrs. Rooney and Miss Fitt discuss the late train and speculate why it might be late . Miss Fitt fears it has been derailed and
some harm has come to her mother.
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After a few minutes the up mail arrives w ith a surge of loud noise and activity.
The text specifies, “[ Immediately exaggerated station sounds. Falling signals. Bells.
Whistles. Crescendo of train whistle approaching. Sound of train rushing through
station.]” (27) Next, the 12.30 arrive s and is described thus, “[ The up mail recedes, the
down train approaches, enters the station, pulls up with great hissing of steam and
clashing of couplings. Noise of passengers descending, doors banging, Mr. Barrell
shouting “Boghill! Boghill !”, etc. Piercingly. ] (27) All the passengers descend in a
flurry.
Mrs. Rooney finally finds her husband who ha s been in the men’s room. She asks
Jerry about his father and lear ns he has been taken away, l eaving the boy all alone in the
world. The couple pay the boy and prepare to make the journey home. In the course of
their conversation Mr. Rooney makes a remarkable comment. He says, “Once and for all, do not ask me to speak and move at the same time . I shall not say this in this life again.”
(29) Next, the couple descend the “precipice” as Mr. Rooney calls the stairs. He remarks
that after descending them thous ands of times he still does not know how many there are.
He asks his wife’s opinion and when she declin es to count them he is shocked. He says,
“Not count! One of the few satisfactions in life!” (30) The couple reaches the bottom and
begins the journey home.
This movement distinguishes itself from what comes before and what follows in
several important ways. The landscape cha nges from the flat and wide-open country
roads to the condensed man-made space of th e train station. While Mrs. Rooney earlier
had dealings with one person at a time, now she will face crowds at the station. This
shift is also evident in the development of the theme of problems with locomotion/travel
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already noted. Mrs. Rooney, on her way up the steps, evokes two doomed vessels, the
Titanic and the Lusitania, that were responsib le for the deaths of thousands. Of course,
another example central to the play is the late train. These examples demonstrate that the
theme has expanded to include mass modes of travel. Also, the level of danger has
intensified from the machine merely breaki ng down to something much more menacing,
the risk of death of the individual and the masses.
The steep steps are a daunting barrier th at demarcates the two spaces. Several
critics believe that the steps recall Mt. Purgatory in Dante’s Purgatory . This theory finds
support in Mrs. Rooney’s repeated comparisons of the steps to a mountain. There is also
a direct reference to Dante in the first movement that has gone largely unnoticed by
critics. It comes when Mrs. Rooney is sp eaking with Mr. Tyler and the latter says,
“Nothing, Mrs. Rooney, nothing, I was merely cursing, under my breath, God and man,
under my breath, and the wet Saturday afternoon of my conception.” (15) This line
seems likely to have come from Canto III of the Inferno when Dante describes the cries
of the condemned souls with which Charon lo ads his ferry to cro ss the Acheron. Dante
writes, “They cursed God, their parents, the human race, the place, the time, the seed of
their begetting and of their birth.” ( Inferno 31) Subtle allusions to Dante are common in
Beckett’s writing, so this does not necessarily indicate any deep er structural or thematic
parallel between the two works.
The steps may be a reference to Dante’s Purgatory but their chief importance is to
physically set apart the central episode of the play and clearl y differentiate it from the
journeys that precede and follow it. The space changes from natural to man-made, and
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the weather shifts from fair to stormy. The w eather will continue to worsen for the rest of
the day. This is another aspect of the theme of decline and decay that pervades the play.
The train station is characterized by fren etic activity, confusion, and noise. It
begins early with Mr. Slocum blowing his horn to call Tommy and continues when Mr.
Barrell yells at the boy, “Nip up there on the platform now and whip out the truck!
Won’t the twelve thirty be on top of us before we can turn round?” (20) These lines
evoke the child’s quickness and agility in cont rast to the labored, sl ow movement of Mrs.
Rooney and the men she has met thus far. The noise of the station builds to a crescendo first, with many characters speaking at th e same time or one after another and second,
when the train arrives. Confusion surrounds the train’s delay and, once it arrives, Dan
Rooney’s whereabouts.
The third and final movement begins once Dan and Maddy Rooney have
descended the steps and begun the journey hom e. They discuss the worsening weather
and Mr. Rooney says he wants to hurry home so Mrs. Rooney can read to him. He also
imagines what retired life would be like. The thought of sittin g at home counting the
hours between meals energizes him, and he wa nts to use this burst of strength to get
home.
Neighborhood children interrupt the coupl e’s journey with taunts, and Mr.
Rooney scares them off with his cane. Here , the conversation takes a morbid turn. Mr.
Rooney asks his wife, “Did you ever wish to kill a child? [ Pause .] Nip some young
doom in the bud.” (31)
The conversation changes abruptly with an other direct referen ce to Dante. Mr.
Rooney suggests to his wife that they continue their journey walking backwards. He says,
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“Yes. Or you forwards and I backwards. The perfect pair. Like Dante’s damned, with
their faces arsy-versy. Our tear s will water our bottoms.” (31)
As the couple continues home Mr. Roone y evokes his courtship and marriage of
Mrs. Rooney. Each major event such as proposal, wedding, etc., is marked by a
worsening decline in his health. Mrs. Rooney comments on their peaceful pastoral
surroundings, when, unprovoked by his wife, Mr. Rooney returns to the subject of the train delay. Mr. Rooney would like to sit and talk but since there is no bench around they
must continue.
Mr. Rooney recounts that the train left on time and in the first part of the journey
he turned over in his mind the benefits and dr awbacks of taking his retirement. He says
he noticed the train had stopped but at this point his wife interr upts him, complaining
about the wind and the cold. When she tries to encourage him, he mocks her, saying,
“Never pause…safe to haven….Do you know, Maddy, sometimes one would think you
were struggling with a dead language.” (34) Mr. Rooney resumes his story and says that
for some time he thought the train was in a stat ion. He realized his error as the delay
grew longer. Eventually, the train simply departed and the next thing he knew he was
getting down at Boghill Station.
Shortly after, Mrs. Rooney repeats a line from the first movement when she says,
“There is that lovely laburnum again. Poor thing, it is losing all its tassels.” (36) The
couple moves on slowly with Winnie recall ing thoughts from the first movement. Mr.
Rooney stops and it is clear that the couple is soaked from the rain. They hear music in
the distance and it is Schubert ’s “Death and the Maiden.” Mrs. Rooney notices Mr.
Rooney is crying.
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At this point Jerry runs up to the couple, panting. He tells them that Mr. Barrell
has sent him to return something Mr. Roone y dropped. Mrs. Rooney takes the object and
asks her husband what it is. He becomes very de fensive and denies it is his at first. Mrs.
Rooney says only it is like a ba ll but not a ball. Mr. Roone y remains defensive and says
violently that it is a thing wh ich he carries about. Before Jerry leaves, Mrs. Rooney asks
him if he knows what caused the train’s de lay. Mr. Rooney becomes agitated and tells
his wife the boy knows nothing. He then becomes upset and groans when Jerry tells Mrs.
Rooney that a little child fell out of a carriage and onto the tracks under the wheels. The
play ends with the sounds of dragging feet, wind, and rain.
The third movement takes the play away from the chaos and activity of the train
station episode and back to the calm of the first movement. This movement is
remarkable for the symmetry it gives the play as a whole. The major events and themes
of the first movement have counterparts in th e third movement that serve to balance the
play. In the first movement Mrs. Roone y complains about the difficulty of using
language and how her words sound “bizarre.” In the third movement, her husband tells
her she speaks as if she were using a dead language. Mr. Rooney himself struggles to
walk and talk at the same time. Here th e parallel themes of language and locomotion
converge. The couple will have an encounter in the third movement just as Mrs. Rooney
had encounters on her journey. However, th is time it will be with children, and the
meeting will foreshadow the revelation at the end of the play. Another example of
symmetry is the reference to Dante that corres ponds to the joke in the first movement.
Dante’s sinners are the seers w hose punishment is to be fore ver twisted backwards. In
life they tried to see the future and in Hell they are condemned to physically look
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backwards. This resonates with readers beca use Dan, of course, is blind. The last piece
of symmetry is the laburnum that Mrs. Roone y admires when she begins her journey in
the morning and then comments on again when she is almost home. This plant serves as
a landmark in the story. However, when Mrs. Rooney sees it the second time, its
condition has worsened and she comments on its deterioration.
In the final movement of the play, the atmosphere grows calm again but also
much darker. Just as the storm clouds ga ther and it begins to rain, Mr. Rooney’s
comments about killing a child and Mrs. Rooney’s anecdote a bout the ill-fated girl who
had “never really been born” add to the them e of the death of children which reaches its
climax at the end of the play when Jerry announces the reason for the train’s delay, the
death of a child. This play shares qualitie s of circularity and re petition with other of
Beckett’s works but in new ways. The play is in one act but may be viewed as having
three, with the first and third acts repeati ng themselves in a way similar to that of Waiting
for Godot and Happy Days .
4.2 Language: Protagonists’ Iris h Names and Biographical References
Beckett’s style of names is consistent throughout his writing. During all three
periods outlined in this dissertation, letters and puns are important with the occasional literary reference, e.g., Belacqua and Dante in
More Pricks than Kicks . One may
hypothesize as to the origin of these names and the significance of their recurring letters.
The evidence in this regard, however, is scant. Yet one thing is certain, the way Beckett chooses names for his characters change s dramatically with the composition of
All that
Fall. What sets them apart is that they have traceable origins. This section will discuss
these names and argue that they are directly related to Beckett’s return to English.
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As James Knowlson points out in his book, Damned to Fame , the names Beckett
uses in this play are inspired by or the same as those of local people from Beckett’s
hometown of Foxrock. In the play, the firs t three men Mrs. Rooney meets are Christy,
Mr. Tyler, and Mr. Slocum. Knowlson point s out that Christy was the name of a
gardener at the Beckett family home, Becke tt bought apples from a gardener named Tyler
on his walk home from school and Slocum was the maiden name of John Beckett’s wife,
Vera, as well as James Joyce’s bibliographe r. Foxrock’s stationmaster was named Mr.
Joseph Farrell, a close parallel to Boghill’s stationmaster Mr . Barrell. Miss Fitt’s name,
aside from the wonderful pun, may have been inspired by a classmate of Beckett’s at Portora School named E.G. Fitt or of a Rathga r lady resident. Knowlson also claims that
Beckett’s kindergarten teacher Ida “Jack” El sner inspires Mrs. Rooney, a common Irish
name.
1 Some critics have pointed out that th e name Maddy Dunne Rooney may also be a
series of puns that trace the theme of decay in the work meaning “mad,” “done,” and
“ruined.” Even when modelli ng his characters on real people, there is no reason to
expect Beckett to completely give up his predilection for word ga mes based on the theme
of decay and decrepitude.
Furthermore, images from Beckett’s youth are incorporated directly into the play.
Indeed, a cottager driving a hor se and cart with a load of dung to sell for gardens was a
familiar sight in Foxrock. The cab evoked in the text, “send Tommy for the cab” parallels a cab that was kept near the Foxr ock station. “Connolly’s Van,” which kicks up
a cloud of dust in the text, came from Conno lly’s Stores in the nearby village of
Cornelscourt. At one point in the play Mr . and Mrs. Rooney discuss a certain preacher
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named Hardy. Indeed there was one Reverend E. Hardy who was a close neighbor of the
Becketts on Kerrrymount Avenue when Samuel was a child.2
These names, almost without exception, are those of people Beckett knew during
his childhood. The reader may ask the que stion: why does Beckett suddenly change
course after years of making efforts to strip the biographical details out of his work in
order to universalize their meaning? I believ e that the answer to this question can be
found if one studies another important feature of the play that is also one of Beckett’s key
concerns throughout his writing, language.
All that Fall is remarkable not only for its geographic similarity to Foxrock and its
borrowed proper names, but also for its Irish colloquial English, th e English of Beckett’s
childhood. Mrs. Rooney says, “surely to goodness,” and “to be sure,” phrases that have a
distinctive Irish ring to them. Christy, the carter she meets on her way to the station, says
his hinny is, “very fresh in he rself today,” another typically Irish phrase. The use of
familiar and uncomplicated language that char acterizes this play marks a distinctive
(Irish) location and evokes a sense of everyday lif e. Early in the text when she is talking
to Christy, the carter, Mrs. Rooney makes so me very telling remarks about her own use
of language. She says, “Do you find anythi ng…bizarre about my way of speaking?
(Pause.) I do not mean the voice. (Pause.) No, I mean the words. (Pause. More to herself.)
I use none but the simplest words, I hope, a nd yet I sometimes find my way of speaking
very…bizarre. (Pause.) Mercy! What was that?”3 She begins by aski ng Christy what he
thinks of her “way of speaking” and then clarifies her question with two qualifications:
the first is that she is not c oncerned with the sound of her voice and the second is that she
specifically means the words she uses. At this point she becomes introspective and
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captivated by her own question. She states he r intention to use onl y the simplest words
and is surprised that this does not keep her from sounding “bizarre.” Then, in
characteristically Beckettian manner, a mule ’s fart wakes her from her reverie.
This short section of text forms a microc osm of many different linguistic concerns
that appear throughout Beckett’s writing and are directly related to this study. First, Mrs.
Rooney’s remarks strongly recall Beckett’s ow n attempts to pare down his language by
writing in French. Mrs. Rooney searches fo r the simplest, most clear language but
understands that ultimately, language is an inadequate tool with which to express herself.
This may be viewed as another in a long seri es of episodes in which Beckett’s characters’
struggle to use language to both for self-knowledge and to intera ct with others. Like Mrs.
Rooney, Beckett switches to Fren ch to simplify his use of la nguage in order to create a
more focused prose that would achieve his goal of universalizing the meaning of his
works.
When Beckett returns to English, however, those qua lities of language he had
sought to eradicate from his writing, he embr aces. All the elements that disappear during
the French period – autobiography, geographical location, poetry and mu sic, return like
never before in his writing. Perhaps, like Winnie in All that Fall , Beckett realizes that
attempts to “simplify” language are illusory a nd doomed to failure. Beck ett is still able to
universalize his themes and concerns in this work primarily by focusing on the individual
and the very specific details of her existence. It is prec isely by way of the many details
that Beckett provides regarding the characters and their environment that he is able to
create a world to which almost anyone can relate.

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4.3 Familiar Themes: Collapse and Decay
The central themes of All that Fall , such as collapse, decay, and death, also appear
in many other works by Beckett and are by now familiar. This aspect of Beckett’s
writing serves as a bridge across his linguist ic shifts and remains unchanged throughout
his career. Beckett’s approach and methods for developing these themes does, however,
change, and studying the varia tions from one work to anot her and from one period to
another can reveal much about the writing. These themes are particularly strong in All
that Fall . They inform almost every detail in this work, and as such, they merit review.
To begin with, Mrs. Rooney is old, overwe ight, and in poor health. She suffers
from rheumatism and her husband, Dan, is blin d. Before she speaks, the listener hears
the laborious shuffling of her feet. Her fi rst words include “poor woman” and “ruinous
old house.” The listener also hears Schubert’s similarly themed “Death and the Maiden”
playing in the distance. The first meeting Mrs. Rooney has is with Christy, whose cart is
full of dung and pulled by an impotent hinny. Mrs. Rooney asks about his “poor” wife,
and Christy replies that she is “no better.” When the conversation turns to the weather,
Christy remarks that it is a “nice day for th e races” and Mrs. Rooney immediately retorts,
“But will it hold up?” (12) When the two part, Mrs. Rooney grow s introspective after
looking into the hinny’s eyes. She laments her lost love a nd lost child, a daughter named
Minnie. This reference foreshadows the deat h of a child at the end of the play and
alluded to in the title.
Mrs. Rooney’s next meeting is with Mr. Tyler. Mrs. Rooney asks him about his
“poor” daughter. Mr. Tyler replies that she has had to have an aborti on and he is now left
“grandchildless.” This is the second referen ce to the death of a child and continues to
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build the theme toward the denouement of th e play. When Connolly’s van thunders by
and nearly runs them over, Mrs. Rooney comp ares the dangers of being abroad to staying
at home. She concludes that th e former threatens a violent death while the latter promises
a “lingering dissolution.”(15) Like Christ y before him, Mr. Tyler’s only optimistic
comments are made about the weather. He says, “Ah in spite of all it is a blessed thing to
be alive in such weather, and out of hospital.” (16) The quali fication “out of hospital” is
humorous and, of course, undercuts the optim ism. Mr. Tyler backtracks when Mrs.
Rooney questions him and offers, “half alive.” But she is having none of it and says, “I
am not half alive nor anyt hing approaching it.” (16) Mrs. Rooney is once again
overcome with emotion and says she cannot go on. She laments her lost daughter Minnie
again and imagines what she would be like if she were still alive. Ironically, even this
fantasy is imbued with the e ffects of age on the body for sh e envisions Minnie preparing
for menopause. Mr. Tyler leaves and Mrs. Rooney again remarks on dissolution when
she says, “…oh to be in atoms, in atoms!” (17)
Mr. Slocum arrives and fears something is wrong with Mrs. Rooney when he sees
her bent double. When the two begin sp eaking, the conversation inevitably turns to
family and Mrs. Rooney enquires after his “ poor” mother. This question rounds out the
theme of a woman’s various roles in life. To sum up, it begins with Mrs. Rooney’s first
words, “Poor woman.” (12) and continues when she uses the same adjective, poor, with
the succession of daughter, wife, and mother when speaking with the men she meets on
the road to the station. Gender in this play will be further discussed below.
The theme of decay is also developed through the various means of transportation
that are presented in the first movement of th e play. This has already been discussed and
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merits only noting here. One ot her detail that bears repeati ng is that when Mr. Slocum
succeeds in starting his car, the first thing he does is run over a hen. This is important for
being the first death in the play and foreshadowing the main offstage event.
When Mrs. Rooney arrives at the stati on, she meets Mr. Barrell, who remarks on
her recovery from a recent il lness. Mrs. Rooney replies, “Would I were lying stretched
out in my comfortable bed, Mr. Barrell, just wasting slowly, painlessly away, keeping up
my strength with arrowroot and calves-foot jelly, till in the end you wouldn’t see me
under the blankets any more than a board.” (20-21) Here, again Mrs. Rooney repeats her
desire for a slow dissolution of her being. When Mrs. Rooney discusses family with Mr.
Barrell, as she has with all her previous interlocutors, the latter speaks of his father, who
did not live long enough to enjoy his retirement. This marks a change from the earlier
theme, as the family member in question is male this time. However, the overarching theme of death and decay is maintained.
Mrs. Rooney next remarks that the wind is getting up and that, “The best of the
day is over.” (21) Mrs. Rooney comments th at soon it will begin to rain and continue
raining all afternoon. She continues, “Then at evening the clouds will part, the setting
sun will shine an instant, then sink, behind the hills.” (22) This phrase is remarkable for
its poetic imagery but also for its similarity to the description of th e birth astride a grave
in Waiting for Godot . Once again, the idea is that the best of life only lasts an instant
before darkness consumes it once more.
When Mrs. Rooney meets Miss Fitt, the pair discuss her inability to recognize her
neighbors. This name is an excellent pun on “misfit,” which describes the character quite
well. Miss Fitt explains, “I suppose the truth is I am not there, Mrs. Rooney, just not
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really there at all.” (23) Here is an exampl e of a woman who is so spiritually decayed as
to hardly exist at all. This conversation is also a precursor to Mrs. Rooney’s story of the
mind doctor in the third movement, which I will discuss below.
When the train finally arrives, Mrs. Rooney finds her husband, who is led by a
boy named Jerry. As is her custom, Mrs. R ooney asks about the boy’s family and learns
that his father has been taken away. Appare ntly, he has already lo st his mother, for she
calls him an orphan. This exchange presents a reversal of the theme of the death of
children and childlessness by expl oring its opposite, the loss of parents and ensuing state
of being an orphan.
The reader learns that it is Mr. R ooney’s birthday and that he no longer
remembers his age. He seems to think he may die at any moment for he tells Jerry,
“Come for me on Monday, if I am still alive. ” (28) Mr. Rooney shows his weakness and
ill health when he implores his wife not to ask him to speak and walk at the same time.
Mr. Rooney has energy for one or the other but not both.
The weather continues to worsen and when Mr. Rooney asks about it, his wife
describes the day thus, “Shrouding, shrouding the be st of it is past.” (2 9) The same could
easily be said of the protagonists and most of the characters who have appeared thus far.
The theme of the worsening weat her steadily progresses. Soon it will begin to rain just as
Mrs. Rooney has predicted and she and he r husband will arrive home thoroughly soaked.
Mr. Rooney briefly considers retiring a nd envisions life wit hout work, “Sit at
home on the remnants of my bottom counting the hours – till the next meal.”(30) His
comments are filled with pessimism and black humor. Eventually, Mrs. Rooney asks her
husband if he is well and his reply evoke s a lifetime of unremitting suffering and
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disappointment. Dan says, “Well! Did you ev er know me to be well? The day you met
me I should have been in bed. The day you proposed to me the doctors gave me up. You
knew that, did you not? The night you married me they came for me with an ambulance.
(…) The loss of my sight was a great fillip. If I could go deaf and dumb I think I might
pant on to be a hundred.” (32) His sarcasm is biting as he equates what are normally the
most important and happiest moments in lif e, falling in love and marriage, with
progressing illness. He comes to the ironic and humorous conclusion that his declining
health is somehow responsible for his longevity.
Mr. Rooney explains that on the ride home he catalogued his income and the
expenses required to keep him “alive and twitching” and came to the unexpected
conclusion that he could add considerably to his income if he just stayed home
indefinitely. He concludes, “B usiness, old man, I said, retire from business, it has retired
from you.” (33) His dreams of wasting aw ay to nothing in his bed recall his wife’s
similar comments earlier in the play. He then thought of the drawbacks of living at
home, including cleaning and dealing with the neighbor’s brats, and began to reconsider.
His basement office allowed him to be “burie d alive” for most of the day with access to
ale and a fillet of hake. This, he thought, was a more desirable situation. He says,
“Nothing, I said, not even fully certified deat h, can ever take the place of that.”(34)
The idea of death is brought up again quick ly, but this time it is in regard to
language. Mrs. Rooney complains of bei ng cold and the wind cutting through her
clothes. She encourages herself by saying she and her husband will go directly home without pause and be “safe to haven.” Dan is struck by this unusua l turn of phrase and
tells his wife, “Never pause… safe to haven…. Do you know, Maddy, sometimes one
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would think you were struggling with a dead language.” (34) His wife replies, “Yes
indeed, Dan, I know full well what you mean, I often have that fee ling, it is unspeakably
excruciating.” (34) This di alogue recalls Mrs. Rooney’s earl ier complaint that her words
sounded “bizarre” and highlight her struggle to express herself through language. The
theme of the decline of language intensifies when Mrs. Rooney brings up a familiar dead
language when she says, “Well, you know, it will be dead in time, just like our own poor
dear Gaelic, there is th at to be said.” (34)
Mr. Rooney completes the story of his trai n ride without divulging the reason for
the delay. When he asks his wife if she believes his account, she launches into a story
about attending the lecture of a “mind docto r.” She retells the story of the doctor’s
unsuccessful attempts to trea t an unhappy little gi rl over the course of three years.
Although he could find nothing wrong with her, she grew sicker over time and eventually
died. One comment haunted her ever since. The doctor exclaimed, “The trouble with her
was she had never really been born!” (36) This story is im portant because it seems out of
place in the play as a whole. It marks a br eak from the couple’s ea rlier conversation and
does not seem relevant nor does it follow l ogically from Mr. Rooney’ s explanation of his
train ride. Thematically, however, the story fits in perfectly becau se it builds the theme
of death and decay by recounting the slow decline of a child. It also serves to foreshadow
the death of the child that is the reason for the train’s delay.
Several more details develop the theme, for example, when Mr. Rooney believes
there is a dead dog in the ditc h. His wife explains that he smells the rotting leaves
collected in the ditch year af ter year. In this way she expands the duration of the theme
by associating it with the natural cycle of th e seasons and evoking th e build-up of rotting
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material over many years. She also notes the same laburnum she commented on earlier
in the play. However, now she says, “Poor thin g, it is losing all its tassels.” This detail
shows an example of decline du ring the relatively short durati on of the play and serves as
a landmark that indicates the couple is almost home. Her use of the adjective “poor” also
ties this detail to Mrs. Rooney’s earlier conve rsations with passers-by in which she used
this adjective to enquire after the ill family me mbers of her neighbors.
Mrs. Rooney also imagines Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a hinny. This
humorous mistake is a prelude to the couple’s reaction to the title of the next day’s
sermon. When Mrs. Rooney notices Dan is cr ying, she changes the subject and tells her
husband its title, “The Lord upholdeth all that fall and raiseth up all those that be bowed
down.” [ Silence. They join in wild laughter . They move on. Wind and rain. Dragging
feet, etc. ] (38) The sermon’s title provides the pl ay’s title and resultant play on words.
This quote recalls a biblical pa ssage but also refers to th e child who has fallen to his
death. The full quote also echoes the many pe ople who refer to Mrs. Rooney as “bent
double.” One is left to wonder why the Lord has not saved the child nor alleviated Mrs.
Rooney’s pain. Perhaps, this is why she a nd her husband laugh wild ly: it is the best
reaction to a life of unending misery in a world devoid of any God.
4.4 Beckett and Schubert, Death and the Maiden
Marit Gallie Berge has poin ted out in her unpublished thes is at the University of
Oslo, “Samuel Beckett’s Radio Plays: Music of the Absurd,” the structural importance of
Schubert’s sonata, “Death and the Maiden”, in All that Fall .4 As has already been noted,
this piece of music marks the beginning and end of the play and is referred to by name in
the work. Berge has argued convincingly in he r thesis that Beckett may have structured
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the play around the musical form of the sona ta and specifically, Schubert’s sonata. Berge
devotes most of her attenti on to the technical aspects of Beckett’s work and how he
creates a soundscape in what is for him a new medium. The first chapter of her work is
devoted to the technological innovations in radio and at th e BBC during the years leading
up to the production of All that Fall . In the second chapter sh e discusses how the various
animal sounds were created as well as th e effect of having the microphone follow Mrs.
Rooney through her journey. When she addres ses the themes of suffering, pain, and
death present in All that Fall , she employs a biographical approach and suggests the
source of these themes is to be found in certa in traumatic events of Beckett’s childhood.
Berge, however, fails to explore the importan ce of the title of Schubert’s sonata, “Death
and the Maiden” in relation to Beckett’s pla y. Thus, she underestim ates the significance
of a possible medieval source for the play. Be fore any consideration of the long tradition
of the dance of death, it is worthwhile here to review the sonata as a musical form and
gauge its possible signifi cance in Beckett’s play.
The Grove Concise Dictionary of Music defines the sonata thus, “A piece of
music, almost invariably instrumental and usua lly in several movements, for a soloist or a
small ensemble; or a structural principle, the sonata form.”5 The same dictionary
describes the sonata form as, “The main form of the group embodying the 'sonata
principle', the most important principle of musical structur e from the Classical period to
the 20th century : that material first stated in a complementary key be restated in the home
key.”6 The dictionary traces the development of the sonata from its inception in the late
sixteenth century through the twentieth century. The earliest meaning of ‘”sonata” was
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simply instrumental music and was used to distinguish between this type of music and
songs to be sung or “cantata.”
The original sonata consisted of a sing le movement but by the time of Corelli
(1653-1713), the genre had evolved to include se veral separate movements that followed
the pattern slow-fast-slow in tempo. Over time, the sonata continued to develop until
there was no consistent trend in the number or order of movement s. The alternating
pattern between slow and fast movements was maintained, as was the sonata principle of
repetition. In the twentieth century the genre lost the qualities that had earlier defined it
and the term “sonata” no longer implied a work of multiple movements with one or more
in sonata form.7 The essential characteristics of the sonata, including the alternation
between slow and fast movements, along with the principle of repetition and multiple variations on a theme, seem to have greatly influenced Beckett in the composition of his
play.
In Beckett’s play one can hear many musical principles at work, especially those
of the sonata. As Berge has noted, the anim al sounds that precede Mrs. Rooney’s first
words establish the four-beat measure, whic h remains consistent throughout the play by
way of Mrs. Rooney’s shuffling steps. Ot her sounds, like Mrs. Rooney’s panting, are
added on the first and third beats. After Mrs. Rooney hears “Deat h and the Maiden” and
the sound of the music has been faded out, she be gins to hum the tune herself to the time
of her shuffling feet.8 These examples demonstrate that Beckett’s play progresses to the
beat of music and, like the sonata, c ontains variations on a theme.
During the first movement, the tempo is slow, as evidenced by Mrs. Rooney’s
labored breathing, slow walki ng, and frequent stops. She be gins the journey alone with
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only the sounds of the countryside and those she makes walking and humming. She
meets three men on her way to the train station and with each meeting, sounds begin to
build in intensity and volume. With Christ y, a mule’s fart wakes her from her reverie
while Mr. Tyler’s bicycle bell startles her a nd Mr. Slocum’s car engine roars to life.
Variations on a single theme multiply as Mrs. Rooney repeats similar conversations about
ailing family members with each of the men she meets and all three have some trouble with their increasingly complex modes of trav el. This movement corresponds to a slow
opening movement of a sonata th at gradually builds toward the fast tempo of the second
movement.
When Mrs. Rooney arrives at the stati on, the tempo increases as Tommy runs
from one end of the station to the other and a multitude of voices can be heard interrupting and shouting over one another. Mrs. Rooney’s silence acts as a counterpoint
to the heightened noise and ac tivity. She says, “Do not imagine, because I am silent, that
I am not present, and alive, to all that is going on.” (25) The climax of this movement
comes when the up mail and the down train pull into the station with the thundering noise
of clashing metal. Dan maintains the fou r-beats-to-the-bar meter by tapping his cane.
Berge also points out that the contrast be tween the train’s crashi ng noise and the blind
man’s tapping cane underline man’s weakness and frailty.
9
The couple’s return home reestablishes the slow tempo of the first movement with
the couple’s shuffling steps, hea vy breathing, and frequent stops. It is too great an effort
for Dan to walk and speak at the same time, so the two often stop. The couple only meets
the Lynch twins, who jeer at them on the wa y home. This is a variation on the theme of
children that runs through th e play and serves as the impetus for Dan’s first remarks
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about killing a child. Another example of multiple variations on a theme is Dan’s
repeated counting of steps and cataloguing of the pros and cons of retiring.
It is worthwhile to review Franz Schube rt’s “Death and the Maiden” because this
sonata is heard twice in Beckett’s play and mentioned by name. A comparison of the
music with the text, however, reveals little mo re than what has already been noted with
regard to tempo and variations. Perhaps the title itself and the history of this work may
lead to a better understanding of why Becke tt chose this particular piece of music to
include in his play.
The limited scope of this dissertation does not allow for an examination of Franz
Schubert’s biography. Although Beckett and Schubert have much in common, including early failures, dark themes, and a lifelong co mmitment to their respective arts, I shall
limit the present study to Schubert’s sonata wh ich composed near th e end of his life and
called “Death and the Maiden.”
Andrew Clements, in his article for The Guardian entitled “Schubert: Death and
the Maiden,” writes that the composer achieve d his greatest success wi th the sonata form
only in his last three string quartets.10 In particular, Schubert’s work composed in 1824
in D minor, “Death and the Maiden,” is by far the most famous. Clements recounts that
Schubert’s sonata had its origin in a work by the same title he had composed seven years
previously. The earlier versi on forms the basis for the series of variations found in the
second movement of the later work. Clements writes, “That reference makes explicit the
overriding theme of the work, its bleak vi sion and almost unremitting foreboding, though
the variations themselves provide the only moments of solace in the entire piece.”11
Indeed, this strongly recalls the atmosphere of Beckett’s play and Mrs. Rooney’s dark
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remarks about suffering, old age, and death. Ho wever, to reach a bett er understanding of
the intersection of these two works and their possible influence on Beckett, one must first
consider an important element of the first ve rsion of “Death and th e Maiden,” the text
which Schubert set to music.
Schubert’s earlier song was inspired by a poem written by Matthias Claudius.
The following is the original German text wi th an English translation by Emily Ezust.
Der Tod und das Mädchen

Das Mädchen:
"Vorüber! ach, vorüber!
Geh, wilder Knochenmann!
Ich bin noch jung, geh, Lieber!
Und rühre mich nicht an."

Der Tod:
"Gib deine Hand, du schön und zart Gebild',
Bin Freund und komme nicht zu strafen.
Sei gutes Muts! Ich bin nicht wild,
Sollst sanft in meinen Armen schlafen."

Death and the Maiden

The Maiden:
"It's all over! alas, it's all over now!
Go, savage man of bone!
I am still young – go, please!
And do not molest me."

Death:
"Give me your hand, you fair and tender form!
I am a friend; I do not come to punish.
Be of good cheer! I am not savage.
You shall sleep gently in my arms."

This poem, which first inspired Schube rt and gave him the name for his later
sonata, is striking and immediately evokes an image which fits neatly into the long
artistic tradition that juxtaposes the maide n, symbol of youth, beauty, and life with death
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in a macabre dance or embrace. This tradition goes back to the Middle Ages and
generally consists of death, in the form of a skeleton, inviting one or more of the living to dance. Those who have been asked usually at tempt to decline. There are many examples
of the dance of death in painting, sculptur e, and the frieze work on churches and in
cemeteries. One of the earliest surviving exam ples is called “La Danse macabre” and is
painted on the walls of the Cimetière des Innocen ts in Paris. This tradition in art is
associated with, and perhaps derives from, the story of original sin in the Bible. Once
cast out of the Garden of Eden, mortal humankind begins the dance of death. The
apocalypse or Judgment Day is also a day of death when the world comes to an end and
men either join God in heaven or are c ondemned to eternal punishment in Hell.
The plague of the 14th century also brought this genre to the fore by way of the
sheer number of people dying and also because th e disease struck all people regardless of
religion, wealth, fame, or power. All of Eu rope’s people stood equal before the Black
Death that carried so many of them off. In the early examples of the dance, people
representing all stations in life are depicted in hierarchical order from Pope to child. This
signifies that death may clai m all without exception, from th e mightiest to the weakest
and from the oldest to the youngest.
Over time, the genre became more narro wly defined as death, still a skeleton,
dancing with a beautiful young woman. The me aning of this figure remains the same as
before or is perhaps heighten ed by the juxtaposition of the skeleton, symbol of death and
decay, with the symbol of life and fecund ity in a young woman. A sketch and painting
both titled “Death and the Maiden,” by Edvard Munch are better known examples of the
genre.
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Beckett incorporates this tradition into his play in order to universalize his
themes. The characters, like those Death invite s to dance, are all a fflicted and subject to
die at almost any moment regard less of their age, religion, or st ation in life. Some of the
victims are young, like Mrs. Rooney’s lost daug hter Minnie and the boy who is killed by
the train, or Tommy, whom Mr. Rooney has fant asized about killing. Some victims are
old like Mr. Barrell’s father and Dan, who wonders aloud if he is a hundred years old.
All of the characters are debilitated in so me way, including the pious Miss Fitt and the
old Rooneys, who mock the idea that God upholds “all that fall.”
Beckett’s work fits into th e “Death and the Maiden” trad ition in art quite well.
Beckett creates a variation of the motif by humanizing the fi gure of Death. Mr. Rooney,
the implied agent of death in the play, replaces the mo re abstract idea of death
represented as a skeleton. This adds a greater depth to the imagery because now man
may assume either the role of Death or the maiden. Beckett also focuses on the very old
and the very young in this play. Thus, he unde rscores the brevity of life by removing the
greater part of its dura tion and considering it only at the beginning and end.
4.5 Gender: Mrs. Rooney and Female as Mother, Daughter, and Lover
The play opens with Mrs. Rooney saying, “Poor woman. All alone in that ruinous
old house.”12 Several of the most important themes of the play are evident in this line:
gender, suffering, age, and solitude. This lin e carries meaning on three levels. It may
describe Mrs. Rooney’s neighbor, it may desc ribe Mrs. Rooney herself, or it may
describe all women. The ass onance of ‘ruinous’ and ‘Rooney’ add support to the second
interpretation.
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The first person Mrs. Rooney meets on her journey is Christy, the carter. She
enquires about his wife, “How is your poor wife?” (12) and his da ughter, “Your daughter
then?” (12) Thus begins the references to women that Mrs. Rooney will continue to make
throughout the text. She will often enquire about women specifically referred to as
mothers, daughters and lovers. Mrs. Rooney compares herself to Christy’s hinny when
the animal is slow to move. When Christ y beats the animal Mrs. Rooney grows sad and
introspective and reflects brie fly on her past. This episode is notable for Mrs. Rooney’s
yearning for love and apparent mourning of a lost daughter. Minnie, perhaps the
deceased child of Mrs. Rooney, is the first of se veral allusions to a ch ild in the play (and
here a dead child) that fore shadows the death of a child at the end of the play.
The next person whom Mrs. Rooney meets is Mr. Tyler. She asks him about his
daughter and he replies that he is “grandchildless” as a result of her operation. It is not
clear if this is an abortion or some other procedure since Mr. Tyler is vague saying only
that they removed the “…whole…er…bag of tricks” (14) The word “grandchildless”
echoes Mrs. Rooney’s ‘childlessness’ and is the second reference to a dead child. Mr.
Tyler then curses the ‘wet Sa turday afternoon of my concepti on’ (15) and thus evokes the
initiation of his own life. Mrs. Rooney laments her lost child once more shouting,
“Minnie! Little Minnie!” (16) and remarks that she would now be in her forties and
preparing for menopause if she were alive. Th is comment casts her lost daughter in terms
of potential age and (the end of) potential child bearing. As Mr. Tyler is leaving, Mrs.
Rooney complains about her corset and shouts after him an indecent invitation to unlace
her behind the hedge. These remarks highlig ht Mrs. Rooney’s sexuality and resonate
with Mr. Tyler’s allusion to his conception.
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The next passer by that Mrs. Rooney meet s is Mr. Slocum. When he sees her she
is bent double and he asks if she has a pain in the stomach. This is another subtle
reference to pregnancy. Mrs. Rooney asks about Mr. Slocum’s mother and he replies that
she is “fairly comfortable” ( 17) and that he manages to keep her out of pain. Mrs.
Rooney accepts Mr. Slocum’s offer of a ride to the station. She makes sexual innuendos
when Mr. Slocum helps her into the car and she is in a compromising position. Mr.
Slocum is slow to help her and explains he is stiff. Mrs. Rooney replies, “Stiff! Well I
like that! And me heaving all over back and front. [ To herself .] The dry old reprobate! If
that is not suggestive enough Mrs. Rooney giggles and shouts in ecstasy when she finally
gets in the car and Mr. Slocum is left pa nting in exhaustion. The sexual undertone is
continued when her dress is ripped in the door. Similar to an adulterer in fear of being
found out, Mrs. Rooney wonders aloud what he r husband Dan will say when he knows of
the hole in her dress.
Mr. Slocum makes a couple of violent re marks when his car will not start. He
refers to the car as a female and says she’s ‘dead’ and that perhaps he needs to “choke
her.”(19) This violence increases when he runs over a hen and Mrs. Rooney says, “Oh,
mother, you have squashed her, drive on, drive on!” (19) The two a rrive at the station
and if Mrs. Rooney’s entry to the car was sexual, her exit evokes a difficult childbirth.
Tommy: Crouch down, Mrs. Rooney, crouch down, and get
your head in the open.
M r s . R o o n e y : C r o u c h d o w n ! A t m y t i m e o f l i f e ! T h i s i s
lunacy!
(…)
Tommy: Now! She’s coming! Straighten up, Ma’am! There!
( All that Fall 20)

Here, Tommy is the midwife who helps ex tract Mrs. Rooney from the car. The
image is striking and comic for its close pa rallel of childbirth with the most unlikely
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actors. Mrs. Roone, in her conversation with him, reveals that Tommy is an orphan.
With this detail Beckett makes a variation on the theme of childlessness by invoking its
inverse, the child with no parents.
Mrs. Rooney reveals the center of the pl ay and the turning point of the action
when she says the best of the day is over and that it will rain until evening when the
weather breaks and the sun will shine for an instant. This image recalls the metaphor
used to describe birth and life in Waiting for Godot .
The next person Mrs. Rooney meets is Miss Fi tt. She asks if she is invisible and
then tells the latter to look closely an d “distinguish a once female shape.” The
appropriately named Miss Fitt tells the stor y of an estranged eccentric, a social misfit.
What characterizes her nonconformity is b lindness to social ru les. She does not
intentionally snub people but is so deep in her thoughts that she doe s not recognize them.
She gets distracted to the point that she says, “…the truth is I am not there, Mrs. Rooney,
just not really there at all.” (23) Miss Fitt claims only to see the “big pale blur” that is
Mrs. Rooney. The entire play develops the themes of birth/ self-knowledge and blindness.
In response to this, Mrs. Rooney identifies he rself with her maiden name and tells Miss
Fitt that her sight is truly piercing.
Miss Fitt helps Mrs. Rooney up the stairs and when they stop another
mother/daughter pair is introduced briefly when the mother tells her daughter to look at
the pair stuck on the stairs. This theme is furthered when Miss Fitt asks if anyone has
seen her mother. Mr. Barrell asks where her face is which con tinues the theme of
invisibility and existence begun earlier when Miss Fitt said she was not really there. Mrs.
Rooney apologizes for having bothered Miss Fi tt while she was looking for her mother.
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She commiserates saying she knows what it is to look for her mother. Meanwhile, the
unnamed mother tells her daughter to beware the tracks because the train can suck one
under. This foreshadows the end of the pl ay and the death of the child. Mr. Tyler
repeatedly asks Miss Fitt if she has lost her mother. He then points out that the 12:30
train has not yet arrived and that one can te ll by the signal at the “bawdy hour of nine.”
This is another reference to sex in the play and a humorous one as Mr. Barrell stifles a
guffaw. Miss Fitt worries the train has left the track and some harm has befallen her
“darling mother.” (26)
The train arrives and before she meets he r husband she remarks that Mr. Barrell
looks as if he has seen a ghost. This sub tle detail foreshadows the dénouement at the end
of the play. Mrs. Rooney’s husband Dan is accompanied by a small boy named Jerry. When she meets her husband she asks for a kiss which Mr. Rooney refuses out of
propriety. Mrs. Rooney asks if his father has been taken aw ay leaving him all alone and
the boy answers yes. This is the second orphan in the play. The read er learns that it is
Mr. Rooney’s birthday, another element in th e theme of pregnancy and birth running
through the play.
Mr. Rooney is upset that he has to pay Jerry a penny and Mrs. Rooney pleads with
him to be nice to her after her great effort to meet him. They begin the return journey and
Mrs. Rooney asks her husband to put his ar m around her and so reveals her desire for
affection. Dan questions his wife’s ability to lead him and when he says they might fall
into a ditch, Mrs. Rooney continues her romantic gestures by re plying that it will be like
old times. Mr. Rooney rebuffs her advances once more and says he wants to get home quickly so that Mrs. Rooney can read to him. He says of the book, “I think Effie is going
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to commit adultery with the Major.” This comment evokes se xuality and indicates Dan is
more interested in the romance of novels than with his wife. It may also have musical
connotation i.e., a major key.
At the foot of the station stairs Mrs. Rooney sees a donkey and says it is a true
donkey, its father and mother were donkeys. This is another allusion to family in general
and children in particular. Next, Mr. and Mr s. Rooney get into a fi ght about the reason
for the train’s delay which Mr. Rooney refuses to divulge. At this point the couple hears
children’s cries and Mrs. Roone y says it is the Lynch twins jeering at them. Mr. Rooney
wonders aloud if the children will pelt them w ith mud today. The old couple turns to face
the children and scare them away. Mrs. Roone y tells her husband to threaten them with
his cane. Just following, Mr. Rooney asks , “Did you ever wish to kill a child? [ Pause .]
Nip some young doom in the bud. [ Pause .] Many a time at night, in winter, on the black
road home, I nearly attacked the boy. [ Pause .] Poor Jerry! [ Pause .] What restrained me
then? [ Pause .] Not fear of man. [ Pause .] Shall we go on backwa rds now a little?” This
sinister comment increases the tension and th eme of the death of children building in the
play. It is also contains a reference to Dante who, in the Inferno , condemns the seers to
walking backwards with deformed and reversed torsos. They were condemned to forever
look behind them for having tried to see the futu re in the world of the living. Perhaps this
reference by Dan betrays feelings of guilt.
Mr. Rooney finally relents and begins to tell his wife the story of his train ride but
is interrupted by his wife continues to make comments about relationships and her own
poor condition. When the couple hears a cry in the distance Mrs. Rooney remarks, “Mrs.
Tully I fancy. Her poor husband is in constant pain and beats her unmercifully.” (33)
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Curiously, the husband is the one in constant pain despite th e wife being the one beaten
unmercifully. Mrs. Rooney also twice interrupts to say she feels cold, weak, and faint.
When Mr. Rooney finishes his story wh ich does not reveal the reason for the
train’s delay, Mrs. Rooney immediately launch es into an anecdote about having attended
a lecture given by a “mind doctor.” The doctor had treated a little girl unsuccessfully for
some time. He knew only that she was dying and when he finally gave up on her, she
died shortly thereafter. Sometime afterward he realized the cause of he r illness to be that
“she had never really been born.” Mrs. R ooney says this phrase had haunted her ever
since. This is another example of the th eme of motherhood, childbirt h and death that is
developed in this play. This particular anecdote, together with Mi ss Fitt’s claim to “not
be there” recalls Beckett’s attendance of a lecture by the psychol ogist Carl Jung, during
the course of which similar remarks were made. James Knowlson, in Damned to Fame ,
recounts this experience when he writes, “O n October 2, 1935, for example, Beckett went
to dinner with Bion [Beckett’s therapist] at the Etoile restaurant on Charlotte street,
before going as his guest to hear the third lecture in a series of five given by C. G. Jung
for the Institute of Psychologica l Medicine at the Tavistock C linic. The lecture stayed in
his mind for many years.”13
The themes of mother, daughter, and lover are developed in this play by way of
Mrs. Rooney’s memories and interactions with the men she meets on her way to the train
station. These themes are also elaborated in her conversation with her husband Dan.
These themes are always associated with death and loss. In this way they help to create
the dark atmosphere of the play.

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4.6 Mrs. Rooney and May Beckett
Many critics discuss May Beckett’s death as a turning point in Beckett’s life
claiming that this event allowed him to finally be free of his mother’s influence. These
same critics often view Beckett’s relationship with her in black and white terms and draw
the conclusion that Beckett spent most of his life trying to escape her.
The following quote from All that Fall is an interesting example of Beckett’s
attitudes toward gender in the second English period in its sympathetic view of the life of
suffering the protagonist has endured, as well as, possibly, a reference to his mother’s
death:
Give her a good welt on the rump. [ Sound of welt. Pause. ] Harder! [ Sound of
welt. Pause. ] Well! If someone were to do that for me I should not dally.
[Pause .] How she gazes at me to be sure , with her great moist cleg-tormented
eyes! Perhaps if I were to move on, down the road, out of her field of vision….
[Sound of welt. ] No, no, enough! Take her by the snaffle and pull her eyes
away from me. Oh this is awful! [ She moves on. Sound of her dragging feet. ]
(…) Oh, I am just a hysterical old hag I know, destroyed with sorrow and pining and gentility and church going and fat and rheumatism and childlessness.
[Pause. Brokenly.] Minnie! Little Minnie! [ Pause. ] Love, that is all I asked, a
little love, daily, twice daily, fifty year s of twice daily love like a Paris horse-
butcher’s regular, what normal woman wa nts affection? A peck on the jaw at
morning, near the ear, and another at ev ening, peck, peck, till you grow whiskers
on you. There is that lovely laburnum again. (13-14)

Mrs. Rooney is at first playful and joke s about the effect a good welt on the rump
would have on her. This mood quickly changes; however as she observes the horse’s eyes
and begins to feel sorry for it. This leads to her reflection on her own life of suffering.
She regrets first her age “hysterical old hag” and physical decrepit ude “destroyed”, “fat
and rheumatism”, then her solitude and ch ildlessness. She laments not only her own
condition but her sorrow is such that she calls out the name of what may be presumed a
lost child, Minnie. The old age mentioned here is developed as Mrs. Rooney reflects on
her physical decline and failing health. When Mrs. Rooney calls out for Minnie, she
simultaneously regrets her lost child and he r lost childhood. Retrac ing her own life, she
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then regrets the lost opportunitie s of the prime of her life a nd her failed search for love.
Her life as a devout member of the church pr oves another force of decay and dissolution.
This characteristic r ecalls Beckett’s mother who, by a ll accounts, was a devout woman
her entire life.
There is also more poetic repetition and al literation in this passage. The word
‘peck’ dots the passage and the words “l ove” and “daily” are repeated. The most
alliterative phrases are, “ what normal woman wants”, “dai ly love like”, and “ There is that
lovely laburnum again.”
This passage is especially rich in mean ing if considered together with a remark
Beckett made about his mother’s illness and suffering. James Knowlson discusses how
Beckett returned to his family home in F oxrock every year to spend a month with his
mother. And upon each visit her deterioration from Parkinson’s disease was all the more
evident.
Beckett commented upon one such visit, “I gaze into the eyes of my mother,
never so blue, so stupefied, so heart-rending – the eyes of an issu eless childhood, that of
old age… these are the first eyes I think I trul y see. I do not need to see others; there is
enough there to make one love and weep.”14 In particular, the emphasis on vision and
eyes are common to both texts. The power of the eyes to stir up emotion is evoked by
looking into the eyes of another living being. This is because looking into the eyes of
another leads to introspection. When Mrs. Rooney looks into the eyes of the suffering
beast it causes her to reflect on her own life of suffering. The gaze that starts as an
experience of the other results in a mirroring effect. Perhaps the experience was similar
for Beckett when he looked into his dying mother’s eyes.
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Ultimately, Mrs. Rooney provides an excel lent contrast to Beckett’s earlier
depictions of womanhood. Here , the protagonist has a dept h of character based on her
family relationships, solitude, and sufferi ng. She has much more in common with
Beckett’s male characters of the early works than the females.
4.7 Conclusion
This chapter has presented a clos e study of Beckett’s radio play All that Fall , to
demonstrate that with a return to writing in English Beckett return s to a writing style
more similar to that of his earlier works writt en English than those of the French period.
Furthermore, it is no coincidence that this pl ay which inaugurates the Beckett’s return to
English has a distinct Irish setting, biographical references from the author’s youth, and a
highly developed female protagonist. Of c ourse, certain dark themes that are found in
almost all of his work are also found in this play. The themes of death and decay Beckett
so often revisits in his work find a unique expression in All that Fall . In this play, the
suffering of man is depicted through a woman. Death, which is so often associated with
old age, menaces the children of this play.
The structure of the play is based on th ree movements and takes the protagonist
on a round trip journey to the Boghill train stat ion. The circularity of this journey reflects
and reinforces the circularity of life and death as they are presented in the play. But the
usual cycle of life is beset with problems as the young fail to live and the old fail to die.
Mrs. Rooney speaks of the child called Minni e that she lost. Mr. Tyler loses his
grandchild to miscarriage or abortion and a young child falls to his death under the train
during the play. In contrast, Mrs. Rooney is “reborn” in a parody of birth when she
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emerges from Mr. Slocum’s automobile and Dan, in spite of his old age, wonders if he
will ever die.
Beckett’s use of language in this play is vastly different from his French works.
This play, though not stated explic itly, is clearly set in Irelan d. Furthermore, this is the
Ireland of Beckett’s youth. The wealth of names from the author’s childhood that
Knowlson has exposed prove that at least in part this play springs from the author’s early
memories of life in Foxrock. This is cat egorically different from the setting and
characters with which we are faced in a play like En attendant Godot . Beckett also seems
to take joy in writing in English as evid enced by the variety of idiomatic and slang
expressions he incorpor ates in the dialogue.
In addition to the theme of death mentione d above, Beckett also revisits the theme
of decay in this work. The author subtly builds this theme around the various machines
that appear and their break dow ns. As these machines are introduced they increase in
size, power and danger. First is Christy’s cart that remains immobile when his mule
refuses to advance. Then there is Mr. Tyle r whose bicycle gets a flat tire, followed by
Mr. Slocum whose car is at a ha lt when the engine dies. Finally, there is the train that is
delayed. What these machines all have in common is their vulnerability to failure and their potential to harm or ki ll the living. This theme coul d be found in any of the three
periods of Beckett’s career I have outlined. B eckett’s choice of Englis h to write this play
does not affect it.
The structural similarity of Beckett’s pl ay to Schubert’s sonata “Death and the
Maiden” as elaborated by Berg e, is striking. This demonstr ates that Beckett’s use of a
new medium, radio, influenced his work. This is also a notable difference with the
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French work. Although En attendant Godot , has often been compared to vaudeville, it
does not make extensive use of music as in this radio play. One could make the
argument, since the characters speak their lines in rhythm, that this play is as much a
musical composition as a theatrical one. In the French period Beckett sought to remove
the music from his language. In this play, he has found a way to join them in such a way
as one begins to be indistinguishable from the other.
Schubert’s sonata provides Beckett with a three-move ment structure and fits
perfectly with the main theme he elaborates , namely the death of the young. Beckett is
also able to incorporate the sonata as one of the background sounds that gives the play the
spatial illusion of depth.
Beckett’s female protagonist, Mrs. R ooney, marks a dramatically different
depiction of women in his work. She is not the young and sensual thre at to a male hero.
Although sensuality is still at times at issue, it is presente d in a very different way. Mrs.
Rooney laments her lost love a nd her lost child. Any physical notion of love is parodied
or only implied as in the case with Mr. Tyler and her “birth” from Mr. Slocum’s
automobile.
The female is presented in a more comprehensive way in this work than in any of
the earlier English works or French period wo rks. Indeed, the only allusion to a woman
in En attendant Godot , is the reference to the woman w ho gives birth astride a grave.
Mrs. Rooney, however, is presented through her memories as a mother figure and a lover.
She is also depicted as a devoted wife w ho gives her husband a tie for his birthday and
makes the grueling trip to the station to surprise him. She is also presented as a daughter
by way of her numerous allusions to her mother. Family is important to her and this is
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evident when she enquires of everyone she meets about family. She is constantly asking
her fellow townspeople about their wives, husba nds, parents, childre n, and grandchildren.
This depiction of a woman is a far cry from the prostitutes and mo rons of the earlier
English writing and the lack of women in the French writing.
Mrs. Rooney’s speech about the hinny’s eyes may be partially inspired by
Beckett’s similar remarks about his own moth er. Certainly, the two texts share a quiet
pain and introspection based on looking into another living being’s eyes. Beckett’s
critics have remarked that images of women in Beckett’s later writing recall his mother. I
have remarked on one of those works, Footfalls , in Chapter 3. However, no one has
proposed that Mrs. Rooney may in so me ways suggest Beckett’s mother.
I contend that Mrs. Rooney embodies some of May Beckett and that this is a
result of Beckett’s return to his mother t ongue. This return has led to his homeland, his
youth, and ultimately, his mother.
4.8 Notes

1 Knowlson, James pp. 377, 386

2 Knowlson, James. For a detailed explanation of or igins of names and other si milarities with Foxrock,
Ireland in All that Fall , see Chapter 17” Impasse and Depression” pp. 377-400

3 Beckett, Samuel All that Fall p.3

4 Berge, Marit Gallie p. 48

5 Sadie, Stanley. Grove Concise Dictionary of Music edited by Macmillan Publishers New York 1994 p.
488

6 Sadie, Stanley. p.488

7 Sadie, Stanley. p. 488

8 Berge, Marit Gallie p. 51

9 Berge, Marit Gallie p. 51

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10 Clements, Andrew “Schub ert: Death and the Maiden” The Guardian 15 June, 2001

11 Clements, Andrew

12 Beckett, Samuel. All that Fall . Henceforth page numbers will directly follow citations.

13 Knowlson, James p. 170

14 Quoted by Knowlson, James p. 333

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CHAPTER 5. BECKETT’S HAPPY DAYS

This chapter will propose a close study of Beckett’s play Happy Days , both
structurally and thematically, in order to further explain Beckett’s return to English. The
first section will explore Beckett’s divisi on of the play into two complementary
movements that underscore themes of circ ularity similar to those developed in En
attendant Godot . The repetition of setting and th emes from one act to the next
universalizes these themes. I shall refer to Acts I and II as movements because of the
way they function musically, i.e., with repetition and variations on a theme, and also because of the importance of music in the pl ay (Winnie’s song). Music, however, is not
as central to this play as we found it to be in
All that Fall .
One of the author’s main concerns in this work is language and how the
protagonist uses words to insulate herself fr om the harsh reality she faces. Her language
is pushed to the breaking point as she str uggles with her fading memory and makes a
Herculean effort to always keep speaking as though her very existence depended on it.
The main character’s unusual reliance on la nguage will provide a transition to the major
themes of the play: stasis and decline.
The familiar themes of age, suffering, solitude, decay, and loneliness are all
touched upon in this play. I shall discuss how the development of these ideas ties this play to Beckett’s earlier work in both Fren ch and English in order to demonstrate a
consistency of theme across all three periods. This consistency will serve to contrast the
stylistic changes that occur over the same periods, along with Beck ett’s evolving attitude
toward gender, specifically, the portrayal of women.
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I will also analyze a possible source for Happy Days in Dante’s Inferno . A
striking parallel exists between the imagery f ound in Beckett’s play and Canto X of the
Inferno . In spite of the comprehensive studies of the play by leading Beckett scholars
such as S.E. Gontarski, who published bot h the production notebook and bilingual edition
of Happy Days, and James Knowlson, who publis hed a manuscript study of Happy Days ,
wrote Beckett’s biography, and founded the B eckett International Foundation, this source
has remained almost completely unnoticed.1 Canto X of the Inferno provides an
excellent point of departure fo r a study of both the structur e of Beckett’s play and the
themes it develops. As for the former, the pow erful image of the various stages of being
buried alive is found in Dante. Several of Beckett’s most important themes, such as
memory, language, and human suffering, are also found in this episode of the Inferno . A
comparison of the two works may also be usef ul for any consideration of the literary
allusions, particularly those from Milton, a nd how they relate to man’s suffering, his
dignity, and his poten tial revolt from God.
Next, I will discuss Winnie in relation to Beckett’s earlier female characters to
demonstrate the contrast between Beckett’s ea rly sketches of women and his later, more
psychologically developed, female protagon ists. The chapter will conclude with a
discussion Winnie and May Beckett based one pot entially biographical detail in the text
that ties Winnie to Beckett’s mother, May. I wi ll consider to what extent the women are
similar and why Beckett’s relationship with hi s mother is significant to an understanding
of Beckett’s later work.

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5.1 Plot Structure: Two Movements
Happy Days is a play in two acts with two characters. The set is sparse,
comprising only a mound covered with scorched grass in which the protagonist Winnie, a
middle-aged woman, is buried up to the waist. Her companion, Willie, lies almost out of
sight behind the mound. Stage directions ca ll for blazing light. The combined effect of
the scenery and lighting is one of unforgiving brightness that conveys the heat and aridity
of Winnie’s environment. In both acts, sh e delivers what is essentially one long
monologue while Willie says very few words. In Act II, she is buried to the neck.
Winnie passes her time between “the bell for waking and the bell for sleep”2 by
following a very exact routine. At the beginni ng of the day, she prays, brushes her teeth,
and removes the items from her bag. She places these items in specific places around her
where they remain until she has use for them. At the end of the day she carefully collects them all and places them back in the ba g. Winnie passes her time speaking to her
companion, Willie, who ignores her for the most part, straining to remember things, and occupying herself with the contents of her bag.
Winnie possesses a potent optimism and, fo r this reason, draws a sharp contrast
with the other strong female character studie d in the previous chapter, Mrs. Rooney.
Although both characters suffer the ravages of age and decay, Mrs. Rooney is much more pessimistic. Her health is precarious and sh e fears the physical su ffering and death that
afflict all those around her in
All that Fall . Winnie, in contrast, is much worse off
because she is slowly dying as the earth swa llows her. Yet her optimism in the face of
this horrific fate is undiminished. The j uxtaposition of Winnie’s torment with her
sanguinity facilitates the dark comedy and irony of the play. The scope of this
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dissertation, however, does not allow for a comprehensive comparison of these two
works, in part because both plays are from the second English period and it is my aim to
discern trends across the linguistic periods I have outlined and not necessarily within
them. Consequently, for the purposes of this dissertation, it is pr eferable to compare
Happy Days with a play from the French period, En attendant Godot .
The similar features of these two work s have not gone unnoticed by critics. The
overall structure, i.e., a play in two acts in which protagonists appear in pairs, is common
to both. Winnie and Willie, Estragon and Vladimir, and Pozzo and Lucky are all complementary pairs that rely on one anothe r for survival. Just as Vladimir fears
separation from Estragon to the point that he will not let th e latter sleep, Winnie relies on
Willie for companionship. She expresses her anxiety and fear of solitude when she instructs him, “Don’t go off on me again now dear will you pl ease, I may need you.” (22)
She is dependent on him foremost as an inte rlocutor, for she needs someone to whom she
can direct her speech. Vladimir and Estragon al so rely on each other as listeners. For all
of these characters, it is not enough to speak in to the void; language must be directed at
someone.
The plots of both Happy Days and En attendant Godot follow an analogous
development and are characterized by modified repetition with a striking decline in Act
II. Both plays begin, in medias res, during the day with two charac ters and both end Act
I when night falls suddenly. Act II repeats the events of Act I with some variation. In
both plays, the length of time that has elapse d between acts is called into question. In En
attendant Godot , the tree has sprouted a few leaves. This change has been interpreted to
indicate many things, including a harbinger of positive change, the arrival of a new
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season, and the cycle of life and death. Act II is nonetheless characterized by
degeneration as Pozzo is now blind and Vlad imir’s frustration is expressed in his
discourse on the cruelty of bi rth and the brevity of life. Happy Days begins Act II with a
more conspicuous change; Winnie is now burie d up to her neck. What this change may
reveal about the passage of time is uncle ar because the spectator has no point of
reference. It is unclear how long Winnie has been in her present situation and at what
speed she is being consumed by the mound. Time is a highly developed and complex
theme in both plays. In En attendant Godot , it is related to blindness and in Happy Days
it is related to “the old style.” Beckett’s treatment of time in Happy Days will be
addressed in greater de tail in Section Four.
The plots of both works rely heavily on dialogue and monologue. Unlike All that
Fall, there is no journey to accomplish. With the exception of the bowler hats and
Winnie’s bag, language is the engine that dr ives the story forward. Since there is no
action to move the plot forward the protagon ists develop various strategies to pass the
time and survive their suffocating environment. In En attendant Godot , the desire to wait
for an appointment with a stranger underl ies the protagonists’ inertia, while in Happy
Days Winnie is inexplicably imprisoned in her mound of earth. The former work
maintains the possibility, however unlikely, that Vladimir and Estragon may simply
abandon their engagement and move on, while in the latter the prota gonist exercises no
control over her worsening condition.
The characters in both plays employ similar means for fending off boredom and
its dangerous byproduct, introspection. These charac ters avoid self-awa reness at all costs
and in this effort, their most reliable aid is language. The char acters speak endlessly
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about all manner of subjects. Their conversa tion ranges from utter ba nalities to thorny
points of theology. Any topic that allows th e dialogue to continue is valid. And when
language inevitably fails, Becket t’s protagonists resort to the manipulation of objects to
pass the time until they are able to resume speaking.
On the surface these two plays seem to have a great deal in common. It is
important to note, however, one striking difference: women are almost entirely absent
from En attendant Godot and men are almost entirely absent from Happy Days and yet,
many of the same themes are developed in both works. Beckett’s treatment of gender in
Happy Days will be discussed further in Section 5.
5.2 Language: Failed Attempts to Create a Narrative
When considering the plays that constitute Beckett’s return to English, it is
important to note the author’s treatment of language. In All that Fall , language was
identifiably Irish and filled with biographica l references. These characteristics were in
contrast to the language of the French works. In Happy Days , the language is stagnant
and consists of one character’s failed atte mpts to create a narrative. Winnie employs
three principal resources to get through her day, which I will address in order: language,
Willie, and the black bag. Language is by fa r the most important. Winnie will struggle
to retain the first two supports throughout the entire play, and the third will effectively be
taken from her at the end of Act I.
David Pattie, in his book, The Complete Critical Guide to Samuel Beckett , arrives
at an important insight when he remarks that Winnie “creates a world from the fragments of a previous existence.”
3 These efforts are primarily linguistic and doomed from the
start precisely because she has only fragments w ith which to work. As she tries to piece
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together this fragmented past, her memory in evitably fails her and when this happens, she
feels threatened. She attempts to recall literar y quotes but only half succeeds. “What is
that wonderful line?” (24) she says. She indul ges in the memory of what is presumably
her first love when she conjures up the pa st, “I close my eyes… and am sitting on his
knees again.” Coming out of her reverie, she exclaims, “Oh the happy memories!” and it
is clear that Winnie’s “happy days” are dependent on these memories. When she
continues to reminisce, this time about her first kiss, some doubt creeps in. Was it Mr.
Johnston or John stone ? Whose toolshed was it in? Was it even in a toolshed at all?
These doubts threaten the story Winnie tells and her greatest fear is that the story and,
thus, her existence will come grinding to a halt.
In order to appreciate Winnie’s struggle with language, it is worthwhile to note
the significance of narrative. One may pose the question: What is the importance of a
story, particularly a life story? One could ar gue that stories serve to shape the world and
allow one to know his place in it. When the di sparate events of life are woven together in
a story, they gain cohesiveness and coherence. The story invites interpretation. This in
turn leads to a search for meaning and purpose. A story provides a link from the past to
the present and is intricately tied to one’s c onception of the passage of time. Armed with
knowledge of the past and present, perhaps one can glean what the future has in store.
Winnie’s life story, however, has beco me fragmented and unintelligible. The
spectator is given no explanat ion of how Winnie came to be in her present situation.
With no reference point, the significance of the occurrences of her life is lost because it is
impossible to determine how these events ha ve transformed her. Winnie recounts past
events but they remain disconnected and do not move toward a telos. Winnie’s world is
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static, “No better, no worse, no change.” (22) And for this reason Winnie’s concept of
time is singular. She speaks of a past that was different and refers to this previous
existence when she says, “to speak in the old style.” (28) These eras are completely
divorced from one another.
In Beckett’s production notebook for Happy Days , one complete page is
dedicated to “time.” The first of nine listed remarks is “old styles!”4 Winnie’s relation to
time will be developed more in Section Four. Wh at is important to note here is that there
is a break between Winnie’s past and present which she is unable to bridge either with
her memories or rituals.
Winnie imagines the consequences of no longer taking the pains to speak and
envisages her own disintegration, “And if fo r some strange reason no further pains are
possible, why then just close the eyes… a nd wait for the day to come… the happy day to
come when flesh melts at so many degrees.” (28) If Winnie were to stop speaking, she
would cease to exist, consumed by blaze of her surroundings.
Willie plays an important role in Winnie ’s linguistic strategy. He serves to
confirm her existence by listening to her. Despite participating only minimally in
conversation with her, Willie is a reference point for Winnie and reinforces her sense of
self. Just as she fears a breakdown of language , she fears the loss of a listener. She says,
Ah, yes, if only I could bear to be alone, I mean prattle away with
not a soul to hear. ( Pause .) Not that I flatter myself you hear
much, no Willie, God forbid. ( Pause .) Days perhaps when you
hear nothing. ( Pause .) But days too when you answer. ( Pause .)
So that I may say at all times, even when you do not answer and
perhaps hear nothing, something of this is being heard, I am not
merely talking to myself, that is in the wilderness, a thing I could
never bear to do… (31-32)
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Language is not enough; Winnie requires a li stener and a companion. She lacks the
strength necessary to face the invincible void alone.
In Act II, Willie remains largely out of sight and for this reason contributes to
Winnie’s growing difficulties with her memory, the increasing fragmentation of her
stories, and, ultimately, the potential brea kdown of her language. Winnie compensates
for Willie’s absence with a bizarre Cartesian proof. She reasons, “I say I used to think
that I would learn to talk alone. ( Pause .) By that I mean to myself, the wilderness.
(Smile .) But no. ( Smile broader .) No no. ( Smile off .) Ergo you are th ere.” (65-66) In
the earlier quote, Winnie and the wilderness were separate and now they are joined.
Winnie’s survival is threatened because sh e has interiorized the void that earlier
threatened her. She perseveres by transforming Descartes’ “I think, therefore I am,” into “I speak, therefore you are.” Willie’s importa nce to Winnie is powerfully demonstrated
at the end of the play when hi s “just audible” last word, “Wi n,” elicits an outburst of joy
and confidence from Winnie, who shouts, “Oh this is a happy day, this will have been
another happy day!” Her elation carries her into a song that closes the play.
Finally, when either language or Willie fails her, Winnie relies on her large bag
and the many objects it contains as a helpful di version. At the start of the play Winnie
removes a toothbrush and toothpaste, with which she brushes her teeth. When she has finished, she extracts a mirror with which she inspects her teeth and gums. These banal activities of daily life contrast sharply with Winnie’s immobility and harsh environment.
An activity with some practical value, brus hing one’s teeth, is tr ansformed into pure
ritual with which to start the day. Throughout Act I Winnie will continue to remove and
then replace objects in her bag in rote fashion. This permits Winnie to “act” when she is
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unable to speak. The juxtaposition of Winnie, half-buried alive, with the triviality of her
actions underscores her lack of awareness and, when self-awareness and horror begin to
creep in, lends pathos to the play.
Winnie’s attempts to create a narrative are continually frustrated. Her memory
fails her midway through quotes and recollecti ons. She is easily distracted by reveries
and objects she sees. Her trai n of thought jumps erratically from one idea to the next and
prevents her from achieving continuity and cohesiveness in her speech. Despite all of
these difficulties, and nearly complete burial, she retains a conque ring optimism and, as
Beckett put it, “goes down singing.”5
5.3 Familiar Themes: Stasis and Decline
This section will consider the themes of stasis and decline in Happy Days . The
analysis will review the critic Stan Gontarski’ s work in this area and focus primarily on
the themes’ development in language. The prec eding sections have provided the proper
context to further explore Beckett’s use of language from a thematic point of view and
explore how Winnie succeeds not only in surviving but finding contentment.
Stan Gontarski, in his book, Beckett’s Happy Days: A Manuscript Study , states
his objective thus,
The purposes of this study are to reconstruct as nearly as
possible Samuel Beckett’s composition of Happy Days and
then to use that information to increase our understanding
of the finished product. Fu rthermore, such genesis study
gives us the opportunity to ge t acquainted with Beckett’s
creative process, a process especially significant for Beckett studies since the author’s characters are often artists themselves, strugg ling with the problems of
creativity.
6
In this section, I shall exam ine the two constituent parts of the above statement.
First, I shall trace the sa lient elements of Gontarski’s study with emphasis on his
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treatment of the themes of stas is and decline developed in the play. He identifies several
strategies the protagonist employs to cope with her worsening condition, and these are
worth reviewing. Second, I shall briefly cons ider Gontarski’s treatment of Beckett’s
creative process.
Gontarski begins his study by reviewi ng manuscript and textual problems to
which Beckett alludes in his novel Watt . The narrator (Sam) makes certain notes in the
text that indicate there are problems in the manuscript Watt has given him. For
Gontarski, this recalls the long tradition of manuscript study which aims to unlock the
secrets of texts through detectiv e work or forensic analysis. The idea is that by correcting
compositors’ errors, extracting text from decomposed vellum, etc., one can uncover
critical details that have been lost to provide a definitive explanation of a difficult text.
Gontarski evokes Beckett’s intere st in the creative process as it is developed in his essay
on Proust. In this essay, Beckett distinguishes between the artist w ho conceives the idea
and the writer/artisan who translates it and br ings it into being. Gontarski reminds the
reader that many of Beckett’s most famous wo rks have their roots in very early failures,
efforts rejected by a writer well-known fo r his perfectionism. Gontarski uses the
examples drawn from Beckett’s own early critical essay, “Proust,” and his novel Watt to
conclude that manuscript studies of Beckett’ s work may provide an invaluable resource
in attempts to understand Beckett’s creativ e process, intent, and finished works.
Gontarski makes a deliberate effort to base his study on sources both in Beckett’s fiction
and critical works. He supplements these arguments with the opinions of famous critics
in favor of manuscript study but he is very di rect in stating that this avenue of study
cannot be expected to lead to a “simple key” to understanding the author’s work.
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In the second chapter of his book, Gont arski focuses on primary documents and
traces the composition of Happy Days as it developed from an early fragment in a
notebook through seven full versions. Gontarski adds to this Alan Schneider’s annotated
typescript for the world premiere of the play as well as Beckett’s directorial notebook for
the German production. Gontarski makes the claim that this wealth of documents
provides the most complete compositional record of any major work by Beckett. But
what will all of this information tell us a bout the play, its origin, and its purpose?
In the third chapter of th e book Gontarski compares Winnie to the Artist, both of
whom seek to order the chaos, the latter that one might see more clearly, the former that
the chaos might be totally obscured. Her condition is so dire that Winnie fears self-awareness and goes to great lengt hs to avoid it. Gontarski lists three strategies that
Winnie employs to adapt to her environment and avoid introspectio n: ritual, language,
and hope.
7 Winnie’s constant filing of her nails and manipulation of the objects in her
bag are examples of ritual. G ontarski astutely points out that Winnie’s filing of her nails
recalls and parodies Joyce’s image of the disinterested artist paring his nails in Portrait of
the Artist as a Young Man .
The idea of ritual has already been disc ussed in the preceding sections; however,
Gontarski argues that Winnie’s use of ritual carries over to her language, which is often
repetitive and cyclical. Critics have often pointed out that in Beckett’s work, language is
a complicated issue. Beckett’s people ha ve great trouble communi cating and struggle,
for the most part unsuccessfully, to express themselves with words. As Ihab Hassan observes,
Beckett considers language a dead habit; his rhetoric
cunningly demonstrates the point. Sentences end by
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denying the assertions with which they began. Questions
receive further questions for an answer. Misunderstandings, contradi ctions, repetitions, and
tautologies abound. The syntax is often the syntax of nonsense, the grammar of absurd ity. And silence, literal
silence invades the intercha nges between human beings.
8

These comments are an excellent charac terization of Beckett’s use of language
in Happy Days . This does not mean, however, th at language serves no purpose in
Beckett’s world. Quite the contrar y, Language, though it doe s not facilitate
communication, is an essential tool of surv ival for Beckett’s creatures. Language for
most people provides a means fo r understanding the world. In Beckett’s texts, language
conceals the world and insulates the individu al from it. This protective barrier is a
comfort to Beckett’s characters. As Gontar ski notes, “Language generally in Beckett’s
world is not a means of conveying meaning, but a balm for the sores of existence.”9
Ritual, by way of language and habit, provides Winnie with stability, boredom,
and, ultimately, contentment. Gontarski points out that dramatic tension is the direct
result of ritual’s being th reatened. When the walls Wi nnie has erected around herself
begin to crack, she is faced with the nothing, the void and even worse, self-awareness.
During the first act her defenses are rarely exposed to attack. She is nevertheless acutely
aware of the risk of words failing her. She says, “Is that not so, Willie, that even words
fail, at times? ( Pause. Back front. ) What is one to do then, until they come again? Brush
and comb the hair, if it has not been done, or if there is some doubt, trim the nails if they
are in need of trimming, these things tide one over.” (34) Even here Winnie is reassured
by the safety net of her possessions, their manipulation, and the tim e-consuming tasks of
personal grooming. When words run out, actio n, though severely limited, takes over and
vice versa. In the second act, however, Wi nnie’s range of movement is so greatly
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reduced that her capacity to pass the time with her objects is virtually wiped out. Another
major weakness in her defenses is that Willie is apparently gone. Winnie’s capacity for
self-delusion is tested but not exceeded, for she simply wills him to be there and continues speaking as if there were no doubt of his presence.
In broad terms, Winnie’s immobility may be seen to represent the helplessness of
old age, the isolation of the human condition, a nd the inevitability of death. Nonetheless,
what is important is that Winnie does continue to talk and say things such as, “another happy day,” (16) while in the most desperate situation. He r triumph is not merely her
survival but above all, in her unyielding effo rts to keep speaking and transform her bleak
existence into “another happy day.”
5.4 Happy Days and Inferno , Canto X
Samuel Beckett’s interest in Dante, and in particular, the Divine Comedy is well
known. This is no surprise since Beckett studied Ita lian and read Dante in the original at
Trinity College. From very early on, he di d not hide his admiration for the great poet
either in his academic writing or his fiction. As Mary Bryden points out in her essay,
“No Stars without Stripes: Beckett and Dante, ” Beckett was interest ed in number games
and particularly fascinated with the meticul ous numerical structure and symmetry of the
Divine Comedy .10 An early example of Beckett’s in terest in Dante can be found in his
essay, “Dante . . . Bruno. Vico. . Joyce.” In his essay, Beckett point s out the structural
importance of the number three in a work that consists of three books with thirty-three
cantos and written in three-lin e rhymes. What one might cons ider the prologue gives the
work 100 cantos and thus a completeness and symmetry. Beckett himself constructs a
miniature number-game based on the century in the title to his essay, where each period
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between names represents 100 years. This gives the chronologically ordered title a
symbol with which to show the distance in time between its four authors.
Scholars have identified a great many direct references and other, subtler allusions
to Dante in Beckett’s work. Some are obvious , as Christopher Ricks points out when he
writes, “… [the] first story in his first work of fiction, More Pricks than Kicks , in 1934, is
called Dante and the Lobster .”11 Beckett also names the protagonist of this work
Belacqua, after the indo lent figure in Dante’s Purgatory . More obscure references to
Dante can be found throughout Beckett’s writi ng and usually consist of a quotation or
passing allusion. Michael Robins on, in his essay, “From purga tory to inferno: Beckett
and Dante Revisited,” remarks on the lack of successful studies on the correlations
between Beckett and Dante. He affirms that th ere is an intertextual dialog to be found in
their works, but laments the failures in this area of study when he writes, “And yet the
attempt to achieve an accurate notion of this relationship has often been curtailed or even
still-born.”12 Robinson argues in his essay that th e internal consistency of Beckett’s
work subverts attempts to define it agai nst the context of previous books like the Inferno
or Purgatory . Robinson sums up his view of the in fluence of Dante on Beckett thus: “In
the Divina Commedia , he created a paradigm against which Beckett repeatedly measures
his personal view of life…A bove all, however, Dante provi des Beckett w ith landscapes
and images which function as analogues of the often tenuous situa tions and experiences
that he describes.”13 Robinson evokes critics’ desire to associate a given text by Beckett
with the Inferno or Purgatory . He argues that this leads to confusion and that when
speaking of the Inferno or Purgatory , no direct and consistent parallel can be maintained,
as there may be references to both in a si ngle work. There is no question that Dante
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provides Beckett with very useful lands capes and images, and perhaps a thorough
investigation may reveal that at least in one case, a direct and consistent pa rallel can be
maintained between the two authors’ works. But first it is necessary to review Beckett’s
attitude toward the study of his own work.
If Beckett did not hide his admiration fo r Dante by including numerous allusions
to him in his writings, he certainly concealed the meaning of those allusions very well.
For example, Colin Duckworth, in the introduction to Waiting for Godot , discusses the
possible influence of Dante on the play. Like most critics, he attempts to locate the
setting of Beckett’s play in ei ther hell or Purgatory. He ultimately concludes that it is
wrong to view the protagonists as inhabiting Purgatory and recalls asking Beckett about
this, “When I mentioned the possibility to Mr . Beckett, his comment was characteristic:
‘Quite alien to me, but you’re welcome.’ ”14 Beckett, of course, maintained a strict
policy of not commenting on his own work. Does this, however, mean these
investigations should be abandoned? Pe rhaps the poet whom Beckett studied and
admired provided him with more than just landscapes, images, and names.
Beckett’s play Happy Days contains one particularly puzzling allusion to Dante.
This occurs when the protagoni st Winnie repeatedly refers to the “old style” or “sweet
old style.” (32) As Ruby Cohn has pointed out in her work, The Comic Gamut , this is
likely a reference to the “dolce stil nuovo” or “sweet new style” of thirteenth and
fourteenth century Florentine poets. Winnie demonstrates her knowledge of literature, in
spite of her fading memory, when she quotes great works by authors such as Milton, Shakespeare, Browning, Keats and Yeats. Given this fact, her knowledge of Italian renaissance poetry is not per se unusual. However, the number of times she repeats this
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phrase together with her changing the “new” to “old” may point to a deeper meaning than
is immediately evident. Where might an inve stigation of this phrase lead? Could it shed
some light on the play as a whole? To an swer these questions one must examine this
phrase further and where better to start th an with the author’s own comments.
In a letter to Alan Schneider, dated 3.9.61, Beckett wrote, “Old style’ and smile
always provoked by word ‘day’ and derivatives or similar. There is no more day in the
old sense because there is no more night, i.e. no thing but day. It is in a way an apologetic
smile for speaking in a style no longer valid. ‘Old style’ suggests also of course old
calendar before revision. ‘Sweet old st yle’ joke with reference to Dante’s ‘ dolce stil
nuovo .’ [SB underlines “ nuovo ”]”15 These remarks are very useful because they explain
that what provokes Winnie to say “old style” is the word “day” because days in the usual sense no longer exist in her world. Beckett al so remarks that the ph rase suggests the old
calendar. Thus far Beckett is concerned with the passage of time and how it is marked by
days and calendars. The last comment presen ts the phrase as a joke on the “sweet new
style” with “new” underlined. However, even with the author’s explanation, the
significance of the “sweet new style,” beyond a s imple joke, is not immediately evident.
Time seems to be what ties all three remark s together. Thus far, critics tend to use
Beckett’s remarks to argue that Winnie’s use of this phrase is a nosta lgic evocation of the
past when her situation was different. Unfortunately, Beckett’s comments about
Winnie’s “sweet old style” do little to answer the above questions. Perhaps an
examination of the “sweet new style” and it s significance with respect to Dante will be
more revealing.
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The “dolce stil nuovo” or “sweet new style” re fers to a style of poetry that gained
popularity in Dante’s time. It was written in the vernacular and quickly surpassed the
previously dominant Sicilian school. What distinguished the sweet new style was its
belief in the spiritually enlightening effect of love for a woman. The idea was that by
singing the praise of an angel who had ta ken the form of a woman, the poet could
transcend physical and emotional love and discov er the path to eternal salvation. This is
quite different from the other major contem porary movement in poetry being developed
by the troubadours in Occitania. Their id ea of courtly love was based on the feudal
relationship that existed between a knight and his lord. This love is also platonic but
inspires the poet to the accomplishment of great deeds in service to his lady rather than
divine knowledge.
As for Dante’s involvement with th is school, he fervently supported its
innovations. So much so that he wrote his first book, the Vita Nuova , in which he
celebrates his love for Beatrice, in the new st yle. Furthermore, Dante dedicated the book
to another leading poet of the “sweet new style” school, Guido Cavalcanti. Three times
in the Vita Nuova Dante calls him his best friend, “primo amico,” and even credits
Cavalcanti with convincing him to write in the vernacular ra ther than Latin. Given the
influence Cavalcanti had on his writing, it is not hard to imagine that Dante would speak
of him at some point in The Divine Comedy . But here the careful reader is disappointed,
for Guido Cavalcanti never appear s directly in the text. Howe ver, his father, Cavalcante
de’ Cavalcanti, does appear in the Inferno . Winnie’s allusion to Da nte has led directly to
Guido Cavalcanti and Canto X of the Inferno , where the two converge by way of the
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latter’s father. An analysis of this canto may reveal more about Winnie and the structure
of Happy Days .
In Canto X of the Inferno , Virgil and Dante arrive in th e sixth circle of Hell where
the heretics are condemned. In this particular circle the Ep icureans are punished for their
belief that the soul dies with the body. The contrapasso found here is particularly fitting,
for they are forced to lie in open tombs with fire raining down upon them. This is
described at the end of Canto IX, “…fo r among the tombs flames were scattered,
whereby they were made to glow all over, hot ter than iron need be for any craft. Their
covers were all raised up, a nd such dire laments were issuing forth from them as truly
seemed to come from people wretched and suffering.” ( Inferno . IX, 118-123)
From the start, the reader is reminded of Happy Days in several ways. The
blazing sun and “hellish” heat that burn Winni e and Willie here find their analogue in the
fire that rains down and the extreme heat of the tombs. Willie lies hidden from the
spectator’s view just as the condemned lie in their tombs hidden from Dante. Winnie is
partially buried and therefore “entombed.”
As the travelers enter this circle, Dante asks Virgil if he may speak with its
inhabitants since he sees the tombs are unc overed. Virgil answers that he may and,
anticipating a question Dante has not yet asked, says he shall al so have the answer to the
question he holds silent. As Deborah Parker points out in her essay “Canto X,” Dante
has long been anticipating his arrival here and meeting with Farinata degli Uberti, the
powerful leader of the Ghibellines. Dante had earlier asked Ciacco whether he would
find Farinata and other political figures in Heaven or hell. Ciacco replied that these men
were among the worst sinners in hell. Here Parker believes Dante’ s anticipation begins
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to build. She writes, “And we too anticipat e this meeting with Farinata. Such an
elaborate preparation is seldom used in the Comedy : Dante leads us to expect something
extraordinary out of the encounter with Farinata, and we are not disappointed.”16 Virgil
also senses Dante’s anticipation and is therefore able to intuit his desire to see Farinata.
Farinata overhears Dante speaking to his guide and, having recognized the Tuscan
accent, calls out to him. Dante hesitates out of fear and also perhaps because he cannot
see the damned lying in their tombs. Virgil scolds, “Turn round! What are you doing?
See there Farinata who has risen erect: from the waist up you will see him all.” (31-33) Farinata strikes an imposing figure that Da nte describes thus, “Already I had my eyes
fixed on his, and he rose upright with chest and brow thrown back as if he had great scorn of Hell…” (34-36) Virgil, seeing Dante stil l diffident, gives him a shove between the
tombs toward Farinata saying only, “Let your words be fitting.” (39) Here a distinct
parallel between Farinata and Winnie is evid ent as both figures are visible only from the
waist up. Winnie does not share Farinata’s di sdain for their respective predicaments.
She does, however, parallel Farinata, by hardly acknowledging her suffering. She
prevails over her circumstances by way of willed contentment.
Farinata begins the exchange by aski ng Dante who his ancestors were. The
answer will immediately determine whether Dant e is friend or foe. As Parker notes,
“Once he establishes that Dante's family were enemies to him, to his ancestors, and to his
party, the exchange degenerates into a fierce series of in sults and taunts along party
lines…”17 In the ensuing argument, Farinata brags that he sent Dante’s party into exile
twice over. Dante retorts that his people returned both times but that when Farinata’s
Ghibellines were exiled, they did not “learn that art” (51) so well.
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At precisely this moment, Cavalcante de’ Cavalcanti pops his head up in the
adjoining tomb and interrupts th eir conversation. Dante writes , “Then there arose to sight
alongside of him a shade, visible to the chin: I think he had raised himself on his knees …
he said, weeping, “If you go through this bli nd prison by reason of high genius, where is
my son, and why is he not with you?” (52-54, 58-60). As Parker points out, this
interruption is quite a contrast to the highly anticipated meet ing of Dante and Farinata.
This question also reveals Cavalcante’s principal concern is for his son, Dante’s friend,
Guido Cavalcante. Also, despite the stinging blow just delivered by Dante, Farinata
remains silent throughout Cavalcan te and Dante’s conversation.
In an attempt to understand these two exchanges, most critics tend to study them
separately. Parker views them as functioni ng together and writes of Cavalcante, “His
sudden appearance makes for good theater, and it is an effective way of punctuating and
emphasizing the last point Dante makes in th e exchange, but we need to examine the
relation of these two parts of the canto rather than treating them as separate episodes.”18
Indeed, Cavalcante’s appearance does make good theater and perhaps that is why Beckett
incorporates striking parallel images of Winnie in Acts I and II of Happy Days .
Cavalcante also recalls Willie, who lies on his b ack most of the time and is rarely seen.
But what is more important here is Cavalcan te’s worry for his son. His principal concern
with family draws a sharp contra st to Farinata’s singular intere st in politics. Here is a
good example of what defines Dante’s hell a nd the souls within it: division. Hell is a
highly compartmentalized realm containing comp lex levels, circles, and punishments as a
reflection of the sins that divide men instea d of bringing them toge ther. In the case of
Farinata and Cavalcante, their political riva lry was highly divisive. It caused much
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bloodshed and sent many families into exile. In spite of this, one might expect the two to
come together in the face of their shared predicament, but even in hell they remain steadfast enemies and will not speak to each other. Ultimately, however, these two
demonstrate a common obsession with the lives th ey have left behind and in this they are
similar to Winnie.
The question Cavalcante asks concerning th e whereabouts of his son is important
for two reasons. First, as has already been noted, Cavalcante’s main concern is family, hence his son. Second, he is ignorant of the purpose of the poet’s journey. Dante
explains, “I come not of my self. He who waits yonder, whom perhaps your Guido had in
disdain, is leading me through here.” (61-63) Cavalcante notes Dante’s use the passato
remoto (simple past) “ebbe” “had” and thinks his son is dead. He is overwhelmed by
Dante’s words and replies, “How? Did you say ‘h e had’? Does he not still live? Does the
sweet light not strike his eyes ?” Overcome with sadness, Cavalcante falls back into his
tomb and out of sight.
Once Cavalcante is out of the picture, Farinata resumes his discourse where he
left off. Dante writes, “But the other, th at great soul at whos e instance I had stopped,
changed not his aspect, nor moved his nec k, nor bent his side. ‘And if,’ he said,
continuing his first discourse, ‘they have ill-l earned that art, that fact torments me more
than this bed.’ (73-78) Earlie r, Cavalcante fell into despai r only when he thought his son
was dead. And with these remarks it is clea r that both men share th is obsession with the
world of the living, for Farinata says explicitly that earthly affairs are far more important
to him than his own suffering. He is pained more by the political defeat and exile of his living family than his own condemnation. That Cavalcante lacks the strength and
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contempt of his compatriot is clear when the misunderstanding with Dante knocks him
back into his tomb like a great blow.
Farinata continues his discourse and predic ts Dante’s imminent exile. He also
asks the poet why the feud between their familie s rages so strongly. Dante replies that it
is because of the battle at Montaperti that sp illed so much blood. For a moment Farinata
seems remorseful, sighing and shaking his hea d. And his tone is apologetic when he
reminds Dante that at the Council of Empoli, he alone saved Flor ence from complete
destruction when the others wanted to raze it. In response, Dant e softens his tone and
even wishes peace on Farinata’s soul before changing the subject to the shades’ notion of
time.
Dante is aware that souls can see the futu re, as both Ciacco and Farinata have
made predictions. He is puzzled, however, by Cavalcante’s lack of knowledge of the
present and so asks Farinata for clarification.19 Dante says, “…solve the knot which has
here entangled my judgment. It seems, if I hear aright, that you s ee beforehand what time
brings with it, but have a di fferent manner with the present.” (95-99) Farinata explains,
“Like one who has bad light, we see the things,” he said, “which are remote from us: so
much does the Supreme Ruler still shine on us ; but when they draw near, or are, our
intelligence is wholly vain, and unless others bring us word, we know nothing of your
human state; wherefore you can comprehend th at all our knowledge will be dead from
that moment when the door of the future sha ll be closed.” (100-108) Dante now realizes
he has made the mistake of assuming that th e shades have knowledge of the present and
therefore regrets his he sitation to respond to Ca valcante about his son. In fact, the shades
see the distant future clearly but as it draws near, their knowledge of it fades. To atone
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for his fault, Dante asks Farina ta to tell Cavalcante that hi s son is still among the living
and to explain his mistake.
In the latter half of thei r discussion Dante and Farina ta have to some extent
reconciled and come to view themselves as, ab ove all, Florentines. As Parker notes, “In
asking Farinata to tell Cavalcante this news , Dante is symbolically trying to effect yet
another accord __ between Farinata, a Ghibelline, a nd Cavalcante, a Guelph, and also
between two men who are connected to one another through the marriage of their
children.”20 Dante is attempting to overcome th e partisan divisions to unite former
enemies.
For her part, Winnie seems to share the nostalgia and stoicism of both Farinata
and Cavalcante. She complains little about he r physical discomfort as she struggles with
her fading memory to recall her past. Alt hough she does not share Farinata’s scorn, she
musters an equally strong force of will to survive. She finds strength in language,
specifically, directing her speech to Willie to make it through her “day,” while Farinata
finds strength in pride.
Winnie, like the shades in hell, also has an unusual percepti on of time. In his
book, Happy Days: Samuel Beckett’s Production Notebook , James Knowlson writes of
Beckett’s comments during one production of Happy Days , “…Winnie could not
understand time, for she felt that she existed in a present without end and that the past
could have no possible meaning for her.”21 For both Dante’s condemned and Winnie,
there are no longer days to mark the passage of time, only an eternal present in the hellish
heat. The present has become disconnected from the past and the future. The shades in
Dante’s hell benefit from the ability to see th e future and recall thei r past, in spite of
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enduring an excruciating present. Winnie is deprived of the past because of her failing
memory and, with no God in Beckett’s world to shine on her, she has no concept of the
future. Winnie is left to face the incomprehensible present.
In conclusion, Canto X of the Inferno can shed much light on Beckett’s Happy
Days through a careful analysis of imagery and dramatic structure. These latter devices
provided Beckett with raw material with whic h to build his play. More important, Dante
develops themes such as memory, the passage of time, and the endurance of suffering
that also interest Beckett and appear in his other work s. Although some critics like
Michael Robinson believe it is a mistake to look for specific sources and antecedents to
Beckett’s work in Dante’s writing, at least in this case, a strong argument can be made for
a consistent parallel. Of course, Beckett ad apts these ideas for his own purposes but he
retains a great deal of what is found in Ca nto X and preserves th e striking dignity and
humanity of Farinata an d Cavalcante in Winnie.
In the documentary, “Waiting for Beckett, ” the author acknowle dges, in general
terms, his debt to Dante. Reviewer Tane Lee Alves in his review for the East Hampton
Independent, recounts the anecdote, “Pla ywright Israel Horo witz spoke with
embarrassment of an encounter wi th Beckett in the film. He sa id to the Irish writer, ‘We
live our life in the space where a door opens and closes.’ ‘That is quite good,’ said
Beckett quietly. Horowitz became frustrated with himself. ‘Shit! I stole that from you.’
‘Shit!’ Beckett responde d. ‘I stole that from Dante me-sel f.’ This recalls Farinata’s
explanation of the shades’ no tion of time when he says, “…our knowledge will be dead
from that moment when the door of the future shall be closed.” ( 106-108) Perhaps, this
was not the only idea he “stole” from Dante.
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5.5 Winnie and the Stereotype of Women
Linda Ben-Zvi, in her book, Women in Beckett , discusses Winnie’s black bag
with all of its material possessions that recall memories and an ordinary woman’s life.
The objects, along with the activit ies they suggest, are the banali ties of life that distract
one from the terrifying nature of the huma n condition. Moreover, in this play these
objects are constantly handled and their respective functions constantly acted out. This
extensive use of props helps fill the lack of movement of bodies while giving the play a
vaudeville feel and comedy similar to that of the bowler hats in En attendant Godot . This
extended comedy based on props, together with the intense optimism of the female figure
Winnie, reflects the enthusiasm with which Beckett composes again in English.
What sets this play apart, however, is the distinctively feminine nature of the main
character. Beckett says as much in a recorded conversation he had with the actress
Brenda Bruce, who was to play the role of Winnie for the play’s Paris premiere. Though
he rarely commented on his work at all, much less the meaning of specific texts, he did
confide the following to the actress:
He said, “Well, I thought that the most dreadful thing that
could happen to anybody, would be not to be allowed to sleep so that
just as you’re dropping off there’d be a “Dong” and you’d have to keep
awake; you’re sinking into the ground alive and it’s full of ants; and the
sun is shining endlessly day and night and there is not a tree…. There’d be no shade, nothing, and that bell wakes you up all the time and all
you’ve got is a little parcel of things to see you through life.” He was
talking about a woman’s life, let’s face it. Then he said: “And I
thought who would cope with that and go down singing, only a
woman.”
22

Beckett’s remarks are very revealing in their description of the play. The first quality of
Winnie’s world that he lists is the impossibility of sleep. Sleep deprivation results in
agony and constant awareness. Sl eep is also to be feared because it removes half of the
speaker-listener equation. Both Vladim ir and Winnie dread the time when their
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companions will fall asleep and leave them al one in consciousness. Beckett’s remarks on
the severity of Winnie’s existe nce make it clear that she suffers as much as any of his
previous heroes. And while the others, like the Unnamable, survive with supreme effort,
Winnie not only lives but attains happiness. Cl early, Beckett sees strength in Winnie that
his male characters do not possess becau se in this regard she is unique.
The female protagonist Winnie stands out among Beckett’s heroes for her triumph
but also for being vastly different from the author’s early female characters. She remains
a sexual creature (as does Maddy Rooney), yet she is not a prostitute, idiot, or object of mockery like Beckett’s early females. She is a fully developed character with a complex
psychology. She grapples with the same diff iculties of existence (age, memory, decay,
etc.) as Beckett’s male heroes from the Fren ch period. Winnie represents the change that
begins with the return to English and conti nues throughout the rest of Beckett’s writing.
First and foremost there are serious fema le protagonists. Second, the writing is
characterized by a prose that moves toward the spareness of Beckett’s French style. The
author gradually moves away from the exuberance of the language of
All that Fall
towards a more restrained language. Biographi cal details continue to appear, especially
references to Beckett’s mother, throughout the second English period.
Winnie’s physical predicament and ultimate demise could be compared to
Beckett’s mother’s slow death from Parkin son’s disease, a disease whose progression
allowed her to be fully conscious of her ow n decline towards the inevitable end. Her
terrible fate seems to resonate in the charac ter of Winnie, who also faces a horrible death
of which she is completely aware. Though the be ll rings only once in the first act, it rings
six times in the second act. This increase suggests an intensif ication of Winnie’s
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suffering. It also serves to ensure she remains awake, therefore fully aware of her
suffering and imminent death.
5.6 Conclusion
Happy Days is similar in many ways to En attendant Godot . The plot structure,
built around two acts in which more or less the sa me events take place twice, is virtually
identical in both plays. The characters come in pairs and suffer in Act I, only to suffer
more in Act II. Estragon, Vladimir, and Winnie all depend on language for survival.
They depend on the Other to hear them wh en they speak and thereby confirm their
existence. Language is not infallible, however. Like their companions who drift off to sleep or wander away, language constantly threatens to collapse.
Winnie is made to suffer. She endures infernal heat, total immobility, and the
frustration of a failing memory. In spite of al l this, she remains optimistic and in this key
way distinguishes herself from Beckett’s male heroes who have come before her. This is
not to say that she is simply unaware and t hus her survival is effortless. Quite the
contrary, Winnie is equal in depth and complex ity to all of Beckett’s heroes. This is
indicated in the parallels she elicits between herself and Farinata and Cavalcante of
Dante’s Inferno in relation to time, torment, and dignity.
Winnie’s fading memory is most often evoked with half-remembered literary
quotes. These allusions and echoes form a co mplex web that develops the themes of
failure of mind and body, misery, transitoriness, and disjunction between a harsh reality
and willed contentment. I have identified an important source for this play in Dante’s
Inferno , however further effort to study Winnie’ s allusions to Shakespeare, Milton, and
Keats in this context could be very productive. A comparison of Milton’s sympathetic
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characterization of Satan in Paradise Lost , with Winnie and Farinata could tell us much
about Beckett’s play but unf ortunately, is beyond the sc ope of this dissertation.
Beckett’s Happy Days marks a crucial turning poin t in his writing. The clear
examples I have given of the changes that accompany the author’s return to English
provide insight into his evol ving attitude toward both his wr iting style and his depiction
of women.
5.7 Notes

1 With the exception of Mr. William Osbourne, who wr ites music theater pieces for the theater troop he
founded in 1984, “The Wasteland Company.” He has written scholarly articles on women in music, music
sociology and theoretical/ philosophical concepts. He compares Winnie to Farinata and Calvacante in the
probram for his piece Beckett Program I

2 Beckett, Samuel, and James Knowlson. Happy Days = Oh Les Beaux Jours . A bilingual ed. London;
Boston: Faber and Faber, 1978. p. 16 Hencefor th page numbers will directly follow citations.

3 Pattie, David p. 83

4 Knowlson, James Happy Days : The Production Notebook of Samuel Beckett . New York: Grove Press,
1986. p. 67

5 Ben-Zvi, Linda. p. 50

6 Gontarski, S.E. Beckett’s Happy Days: A Manuscript Study p. 1

7 Gontarski, S.E. Beckett’s Happy Days: A Manuscript Study p. 17

8 Quoted by Gontarski, S.E. Beckett’s Happy Days: A Manuscript Study p. 17

9 Gontarski, S.E. Beckett’s Happy Days: A Manuscript Study p. 18

10 Mary Bryden, “No Stars without Stripes: Beckett an d Dante,” Romanic Review; Nov96, Vol. 87 Issue 4
p. 541

11 Ricks, Christopher B. Beckett's Dying Words : Th e Clarendon Lectures, 1990 . Oxford New York:
Clarendon Press; Oxfo rd University Press, 1993. p. 27.

12 Robinson, Michael “From Purgatory to Inferno: Beckett and Dante Revisited” Journal of Beckett Studies
No. 5 Autumn 1979. p. 34

13 Robinson, Michael p. 35

14 Duckworth, quoted in O’Hara, J. D. (ed.), Twentieth century interpretations of Molloy, Malone dies, The
unnamable , University Press of Florida Gainesville, 1970 p. 22.

186

15 Beckett, Samuel, Alan Schneider, and Maurice Harmon. No Author Better Served: The Correspondence
of Samuel Beckett & Alan Schneider . Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1998. p.102-3.

16 Parker, Deborah “Inferno X” Lectura Dantis No. 1 ed. Tibor Wlassics Brown University Fall 1987 p. 3

17 Parker, Deborah. p. 3

18 Parker, Deborah. p. 4

19 Singleton, Charles The Divine Commedy: Inferno Commentary Princeton, New Jersey Princeton
University Press 1979 p. 156

20 Parker, Deborah p. 4

21 Knowlson, James p. 150

22 As quoted in Knowlson, James p. 447

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CHAPTER 6. CONCLUSION
The fact that Anglo-American and French critics have two very different views of
the same works written by Beckett, each group taking for granted that he fits neatly into
the literary tradition of thei r own language, has delayed serious work on his bilingualism.
The few studies that exist are limited to Beckett’s self-translations and how these
“second” versions should be viewed. The st udy of Beckett’s bilingualism over the course
of his entire writing career is a more re warding, if overwhelming endeavor. This
approach encompasses Beckett’s use of both E nglish and French but is not limited to any
one text and its translation. Careful review of Beckett’s publishing reveals a ten-year
period during which he published new works almost exclusively in French. There are
many bilingual authors but what distinguishes B eckett is that he consistently favors one
language over the other for a s ubstantial and measurable length of time. Several critics
including Harry Cockerham, James Knowls on, and Mary Bryden have found Beckett’s
switch to French worth studying and their efforts have shed much light on the influence this change had on his writing st yle. What has been largely ignored in the same context,
however, is Beckett’s return to English, an event no less important in his writing.
Once the overall structure of the analysis based on three linguistic periods was
defined, a consistent method was used to co mpare representative works from all three
periods. The three areas that have been examined, plot structure, language and gender, reveal a great deal about the evolution of Beckett’s writi ng style over time and allow an
objective comparison of one period with another.
Murphy , the representative work from th e first English period, retains a
recognizable plot based on the life and d eath of its protagonis t. The language is
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distinctive for its erudition, puns, and complex ity. The narrator’s attitude toward Celia,
the major female character in the text, is best described as thinly veiled misogyny. She,
and the other women in the text bear the brunt of the narrator’s ridicule and mockery
while the male protagonist remains relative ly unscathed. Although highly experimental,
this early novel easily finds a place in the E nglish literary tradition. Some critics detect
an imitation of James Joyce’s st yle in its learning and humor.
Critics have identified two motives that contributed to Becke tt’s switch to French
in 1945. The first is literary and based on B eckett’s own comments that French was more
exciting and gave him fuller control over hi s style. The second is biographical and
depends on the difficult relationship Beckett had with his mother to explain his departure
from Ireland. Regardless of motivation, the writing of the French period differs
significantly from the preceding period.
En attendant Godot does not have a conventional plot. The play, in many ways, is
static. The two main characters remain in th e same place as they await their appointment
with the mysterious Godot. Any “action” is limited to repeated standing, sitting, and the
manipulation of clothing or the contents of their pockets. The events of Act I are
repeated with minor variation in Act II. The language of the play is direct and
unadorned. This linguistic austerity is at times taken to the extreme when the
protagonists speak only with subjects and infinitive verbs. There are no female
characters and only two unfavorable refe rences to women in the entire play.
En attendant Godot clearly demonstrates the cha nge in Beckett’s writing style
from English to French. The stripped-down lucid prose in this text is a sharp contrast to
the ornate rich language he favor ed previously. Up to this point, Beckett’s depiction of
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women is consistent. However, with the return to English, there is at first a reappearance
of the characteristics of hi s early writing followed by a mo re balanced amalgamation of
both styles.
If as some critics argue, Beckett was on the verge of writer’s block during his
work on La Dernière bande in 1955, the unexpected request for a new work from the
BBC provided the impetus for him to take a new direction in his writing. The radio play
All that Fall may demonstrate a renewed creativity based on the author’s return to the
mother tongue and with it, an eventual return to the moth er through writing. The first
aspect of this process is the cr eation of a female protagonist in All that Fall . Continuing
in this direction, Beckett crea tes a female character and develops feminine themes that
more strongly recall his mother in Happy Days . The mother tongue also brings with it a
flood of childhood memories. Biog raphical details present in th e early fiction and rare in
the French works resurface in these English te xts. The return to the mother through the
two women in these plays, Maddy Rooney and Wi nnie, is accompanied by a return to the
poetry, allusion, and music of English.
Another factor that may contribute to th e strong female characters and echoes of
Beckett’s mother in the late works is May Beckett’s death in 1950. Samuel Beckett, in
spite of strong differences of opinion, remain ed very close to his mother throughout his
life. He witnessed her suffering and death and this traumatic experience left memories of
strong images etched in his mind. It is re asonable to suggest that these images should
reappear in his writing. The late works contain more obvious allusions to May Beckett,
but Maddy Rooney and Winnie recall her in seve ral ways, especially the latter. Maddy
may be compared to May Beckett in general terms because of her strength and humor. A
190

comparison with Winnie, however, can be more direct. Winnie’s prayer that opens the
play recalls May Beckett’s devout religious observance. Her middle upper-class dress
and attention to personal grooming are al so evoke May’s respect for decorum and
etiquette. Winnie’s imprisonment in the mound immobilizes her in Act I and threatens
her life in Act II. This decline, coupled with the ringing bell which keeps her awake, is
not unlike May Beckett’s str uggle with Parkinson’s diseas e. This illness slowly
destroyed her body but left her mind intact.
Though the main characters in the exampl es I have chosen are feminine and
derive in part from memori es of his childhood, Beckett cont inues to elaborate the same
themes as in earlier works, e.g. time, ag e, memory, language, loneliness, suffering, and
failure. It is, above all, the writing styl e that changes from one period to the next.
The effect of English on Beckett’s writing is felt most strongly immediately after
the shift occurs when he writes All that Fall . However, by the time he composes Happy
Days , characteristics of both periods merge toge ther more evenly. With these plays,
Beckett’s return to the mother tongue inspires a return to the mother through memories of
childhood, strong female protagonists, and thema tic exploration of feminine roles. The
autobiographical elements I s uggest are at work in these pl ays are not always on the order
of defined memories, however. Indeed, they are more often than not left deliberately
vague in order to universalize their meaning.
The novel medium of radio led to a pro lific period in B eckett’s career that
matched the output of early French period, albe it with a strong influence of poetry and
music on the language and structure of his pl ays and a reworked depiction of women.
The extent of the thematic and structural influence of Schubert’s “Death of the Maiden”
191

and Dante’s Inferno , on All that Fall and Happy Days was unprecedented in Beckett’s
fiction. The latter play also provided a transition back to th e theater while retaining much
of the feel of radio and furthering the new approach to familiar themes that the radio play
establishes.
Ruby Cohn highlights one important and generally accepted notion in Beckett
studies, i.e., there is a discer nible continuity that runs th rough Beckett’s work regardless
of whether he writes in English or French. She points to what elements they have in common such as importance of protagonists, the quest and language. She claims they
differ “through variety in events , associations, and above all wo rds.” If one considers not
just the first English period and the subsequent French works but widens the scope of
inquiry to include Beckett’s return to English it becomes evident that here, too, one
recognizes a continuity of theme and elabora tion in Beckett’s works. However, this
wider view also reveals the immense impact English has on Beckett’s later works and
that his relationship with his mother is tied not only to the depiction of women in his later works but also to the first strong women prot agonists that mark the return to English.
Of course, there remains a great deal of work to do if one is to better understand
Beckett’s relationship with his mother and the effect her death had on him and his writing. The study of primary documents and more of Beckett’s fiction may provide
insights into these difficult questions. The ai m of this dissertation has been not only to
consider Beckett’s use of language over his career, with partic ular emphasis on one
linguistic shift as exemplified in two plays, but to reexamine the author’s work, raise critical questions, and discover ne w directions in research. As such, this dissertation lays
the groundwork for my furthe r study of Beckett’s writing.
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196

VITA
Julien François Carrière was born in Minneapolis, Minnesota, on May 21, 1974,
the son of Audrey and Bennett Carrière. Afte r completing his work at Benjamin Franklin
Senior High School in New Or leans, Louisiana, in 1992, he entered Louisiana State
University in Baton Rouge. Following his participation in the LSU in Paris summer
programs in 1993 and 1994, he attended the Univer sité d’Angers in Fr ance for one year.
He received the Bachelor of Arts from Louisiana State University in 1996 and entered the university’s Graduate School the same y ear. During the 1997-1998 academic year, he
was employed as Lecteur d’Angl ais at the Université de Be sançon, France. He has taught
beginning French and Italian courses as a Teachi ng Assistant. He received the Master
of Arts Degree in French from Louisiana State University in 2000 and was awarded a
Rotary Club Ambassadorial Scholarship the fo llowing year to study at the Università di
Bologna, Italy. He is currently a recipi ent of the Graduate School Dissertation
Fellowship at Louisian a State University.

This dissertation was typed by the author.

197