Do you ever read something that just rubs you the wrong way and you cannot shake it?
Once again, I swore I’d be off this damn computer before the midnight hour but too much blog catching/commenting… not to mention that ideas flood this brain for hours after work and Google gets hit every half hour! Odd since I work in a library, but my rule is no personal research unless library related.
(I digress) — tonight in my email was a link to a post via “The Smart Set” on Samuel Beckett’s “Waiting For Godot”. (Do not know why I get these emails for most the content is not of interest) Mind you, I am NOT, by any means, a literary scholar/critic/etc., but this post was irritating — it posits that Beckett writes about love! Seriously, to conjecture that it is about love seems a simplified stretch IMNSO.
Am I the only one who considers this ‘love’ premise and asks, ‘can I get a ummmm, yeah…no…” There is no time tonight to really break out the fork and knife, but if you DO know Beckett and would like to enlighten me, please do.
There is hope for a follow-up post, especially since I am almost done with Beckett’s book “Proust,” which critics have stated gives as much insight into Beckett as it does Proust. Taking that knowledge, especially in regards to Beckett’s analysis of Proust’s writing on love and friendship, and the conclusion would be that Godot is not about love, not the love the linked article implies. If anything, it would be the love for the human condition.
I leave you with this…. I don’t believe that any of the key actors really exist…–well, except for Godot, and he is not answering ~