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A collection of essays about Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot written by students in the Senior Seminar in Literature at Walnut Hill School for the Arts.
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S E N I O R S E M I N A R P R E S E N T S
A WAIT ING FOR GODOT GALLERY
WALNUT HILL SCHOOL FOR THE ARTS 2012-‐2013
Introduction ESTRAGON:
Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It’s awful.
Welcome to our gallery of scenes from Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, a play with a reputation for being uneventful, puzzling, and even meaningless. The characters themselves even seem to share this impression. While the writings in this collection are not directly aimed at dispelling this reputation, they do illustrate how – at any given point in the play – a meaningful human moment is underway. Each piece of writing in this collection zooms in on a brief excerpt of the play in order to draw out the essential complications and meanings within. Welcome to our guided tour through this troubled landscape. “Waiting for the Point” by Mitchell Osherovich “Role-‐Playing” Marybeth Dull “(In)dependence” by Sarah Tollman “Complications of Communication” by Martha Collins “Never to Part” by Jiayi Zheng “An Exercise in Careful Thoughtlessness” by Samantha Bottom-‐Tanzer “Antithesis Filling Absence” by Sophie Pangle
by Tess Bissell
“A Well-‐Intentioned Path” by Dana Vanderburgh “Softly” by Gillian O’Brien “What Are We Afraid Of?” by Shelly Pires “The Not So Serious Suicide” by Zoey Dunivin
VLADIMIR: ESTRAGON:
VLADIMIR: ESTRAGON: VLADIMIR: ESTRAGON: VLADIMIR: ESTRAGON:
VLADIMIR:
ESTRAGON:
GOGO! (restored to the horror of his situation). I was asleep! (Despairingly.)Why will you never let me sleep? I felt lonely I had a dream. Don’t tell me! I dreamt that— DON’T TELL ME! (gesture towards the universe). This one is enough for you? (Silence.) It’s not nice of you, Didi. Who am I to tell my private nightmares to if I can’t tell them to you? Let them remain private. You know I can’t bear that. (coldly). There are times when I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for us to part.
(6-‐7)
Early in the play, Vladimir and Estragon get into an argument, which leads Vladimir to storm off stage. Estragon tries to make peace with Vladimir, and after some difficulty and stubborn behavior from Vladimir, succeeds in embracing Vladimir-‐ only to recoil at his unpleasant odor. Then, after questioning what should be done next, the two contemplate hanging themselves on the bough of the tree. This idea is swiftly shot down by Estragon who indicates that the science behind the matter proves the notion impractical. The scene ends with a discussion about waiting for Godot and what Godot’s actions and intentions may be. The final line between the two indicates Estragon’s doubts about their current situation when he asks if the pair has “given up their rights.”
Waiting for the Point MITCHELL OSHEROVICH
This scene presents Vladimir and Estragon’s relationship very plainly. We find tensions between the two in the first few lines. Right off the bat, Vladimir rudely awakens Estragon who had been dozing on a mound. Estragon complains that Vladimir never lets him sleep-‐ Vladimir’s response is that it is due to his loneliness. Here is where we see a vulnerable side of Vladimir. Vladimir usually takes on the role of the protector and guide in the whole ordeal of waiting for Godot. In this case, he reveals that, as much as Estragon needs him, he needs Estragon. Didi’s “I got lonely” represents his human need for companionship – which he finds in Gogo.
On Estragon’s side of things-‐ his stage directions tell all. When Estragon awakens, his stage directions say, “(restored to the horror of his situation).” Then he asks Vladimir “(Despairingly)” why he never lets him sleep. Estragon also remarks, “(coldly),” that perhaps it would be better for the two to part as well as, “(gestures to the universe),” preceding his line, “This on is enough for you?” (referring to the dream of life.) All these stage directions show that Estragon is aware of his abysmal situation and wishes to escape it. He gets creative in how to do so-‐ he suggests sleeping, dreaming, and even at one point hanging himself.
It should also be noted that Vladimir refuses to hear Estragon’s dream, as if he is afraid of the content. This reveals that Vladimir thinks very differently of the two’s state of perpetual waiting. While he may not see it any more positively than Estragon, Vladimir objects to distractions and escape methods. Estragon proposes he tell his dream, Vladimir says no. Estragon asks for a story, Vladimir says refuses. This is a consistent pattern in the scene that outlines a pillar part of Vladimir’s take on life. Vladimir is focused on Godot and his arrival; Estragon alternatively is more preoccupied with passing the time with distractions.
Gogo and Didi function as a pair. Their personalities complement as well as clash with each other’s. Without Estragon’s quirky voice of reason, Vladimir would not remain as grounded and stable as he is through the scene. Alternately, without Vladimir to keep him focused, Estragon may very well dream his life away in distraction. The two need each other, as is apparent in Vladimir’s expression of loneliness and in Estragon’s plea for an embrace from Vladimir in the scene. This scene unpacks each character through stage direction and through the text’s meaning-‐ allowing us to see how the two function together, and what keeps them going in the task of waiting for Godot.
ESTRAGON:
VLADIMIR:
There are times when I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for us to part. You wouldn’t go far.
(8)
In the first scene of the play Vladimir and Estragon debate whether they are in the right place to meet Godot. Estragon does not appear to have a great knowledge of who Godot is or why they are waiting for him. He even refers to him as “(Vladimir’s) man.” After arguing for a few minutes about the recognition of the location, and the possibility of Vladimir having remembered the incorrect date to meet with him, Estragon becomes frustrated and falls asleep. Vladimir wakes Estragon up from the nap because he does not feel comfortable being alone and awake. Estragon is frustrated with the fact that Vladimir will never let him sleep, and once awake will never listen to his dreams. He brings up the idea that it might be better for the two of them if they were to part, which Vladimir quickly refutes.
Role-‐Playing MARYBETH DULL
Estragon brings up the idea of separating from Vladimir, but there is such a sense of security within their relationship that this idea does not faze Vladimir in the slightest. He knows that even if Estragon were to stray from him, he would not go far, because they need each other’s company. Estragon and Vladimir, who are referred to by one another by the repeated syllable nicknames, “Gogo” and “Didi” act sometimes like best friends, occasionally like mother and child, but most usually resemble brothers. In this scene Vladimir seems to be the elder brother of the two. He is fully aware that Estragon not only would not want to leave, but would also have nowhere to go. Vladimir’s quick retort shows that he and Estragon will not leave one another stranded, and that even if they do part it will not be permanent because they mutually depend on each other.
Estragon becomes frustrated when his only partner in the world will not listen to his nightmares. He says, “It’s not nice of you, Didi. Who am I to tell my private nightmares to if I can’t tell them to you?” (8) Estragon cannot unload his bad thoughts onto another person. He must bear the weight of his nightmares himself, which sparks him to say, coldly, “There are times I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for us to part.” The icy delivery of this line as indicated by the stage direction “(coldly)” is a clear indication of Estragon’s annoyance with Vladimir.
Vladimir needs Estragon’s company to keep him sane. When Estragon falls asleep on the mound, Vladimir tries for a few moments to exist peacefully by himself but ends up awakening Estragon because he cannot stand to be alone. Although Estragon is the person who is frustrated, and Vladimir is the one who cannot stand to be left alone, the response of “you wouldn’t go far” defines Vladimir as the leader. He is not threatened by Estragon’s tone or worried that they will actually part for any significant amount of time.
Estragon does not know Godot or where and when they are supposed to meet him, so because Vladimir has the information, he is the organizer. However, Estragon’s comment about wanting to leave shows discontentedness within their relationship. Yes, there is a sense of security and a silent understanding that neither of them would ever truly part from the other, but in this knowledge there is also the feeling of being trapped. The two men cannot leave one another because they have nowhere else to go, and no one else with whom to spend their time. They do not necessarily enjoy each other’s company, but depend on each other for survival.
Estragon and Vladimir spend every day together as illustrated by their argument about where they spent the previous day. They cannot remember precisely where they were, but they know for a fact that they were together. Estragon likes his solitude, which he demonstrates when he takes frequent naps, but Vladimir depends on Estragon’s presence to keep him company. Estragon can handle being alone, but he is the dim-‐witted one of the two, and has no purpose in life if Didi does not provide one for him. Neither of the men is content with his situation, but they are stuck in the same place each day waiting for Godot. They wait in their respective roles: Vladimir as the ever-‐hopeful and dependent “older” brother, and Estragon as the independent yet clueless “younger” brother. The two men are each other’s security blanket. They are attached to one another and remain attached because they fear the unknown, and the change that they would experience being separated.
ESTRAGON:
Use your intelligence, can’t you? (9)
This quotation, drawn from the beginning of Act 1, is preceded by the story of the Englishman in the brothel. In this “scene,” Estragon and Vladimir contemplate whether or not they should hang themselves. While weighing their options—to hang or not to hang?—Estragon tries to get Vladimir to, as the quote suggests, use his intelligence. Vladimir, however, insists that he cannot—despite his efforts. Next, Vladimir responds to Estragon’s indefinite approximations about what the pair had asked Godot for (such as “a kind of prayer”) with very decisive language (such as “Precisely”). Following this, the pair continues to discuss their role in relation to Godot.
(In)dependence SARAH TOLLMAN
Near the beginning of the play, Estragon asks Vladimir to “use [his] intelligence” (9). The stage directions—which can be accepted as objective fact—read “Vladimir uses his intelligence”. He then comments, “I remain in the dark.” There are two explanations for his comment: 1. He has no intelligence, or 2. He gives up. Either way, he appears to be futile in comparison to Estragon. In his next line, Estragon asks Vladimir the same question, but in a different way: “Use your head, can’t you?” To which Vladimir responds, “You’re my only hope”. This second exchange solidifies the notion that Vladimir is dependent on Estragon. Furthermore, Estragon asks that second question “angrily”—according to the objective fact of stage directions—indicating that he is not content to have Vladimir be so reliant on him.
Very soon after this interaction, while discussing what the pair had asked Godot for, Vladimir shifts his views to those of Estragon, regardless of their indistinctness. Their conversation reads:
Vladimir: Oh…nothing very definite. Estragon: A kind of prayer. Vladimir: Precisely. Estragon: A vague supplication. Vladimir: Exactly.
(10) The way in which Vladimir responds to the indeterminate language, “kind of” and “vague” with the decisive words, “precisely” and “exactly” implies that he would agree with what Estragon said regardless of its content. Though Vladimir is uncertain when it comes to asserting his own thoughts, he is adamant when it comes to asserting Estragon’s. This implies that he not only depends on Estragon, but follows him blindly. Estragon, on the other hand, appears to be independent from Vladimir—or at least would like to appear that way. The line previously looked at, “use your head, can’t you?” that is spoken “angrily” indicates Estragon’s resentment towards Vladimir’s inability to be self-‐sufficient. Directly following this, Estragon explains “with effort” (another example of his distaste for Vladimir’s lack of independence) why he should not try hanging himself first: “Gogo light—bough not break—Gogo dead. Didi heavy—bough break—Didi alone.” Estragon is
supportive of Vladimir’s (Didi’s) desire to not be separated from him. Though Estragon gives the appearance of independence from Vladimir, he defaults to the belief that he should not be separated from Vladimir, implying that for him it is subconsciously and unequivocally true that the pair should not be separated. If Estragon truly felt independent from Vladimir, he would not care if Vladimir were left alone. Thus, Vladimir and Estragon are interdependent, but the nature of their dependence is different; Vladimir is overt and foolhardy, and Estragon tries to be inconspicuous. However, this is an anomalous instance. For the vast duration of the play, Estragon is more overtly dependent on Vladimir, and Vladimir plays more of a caretaker’s role. For example, Vladimir must provide sustenance for Estragon after he childishly proclaims, “I’m hungry!”(12) Furthermore, Estragon is depicted as reliant on Vladimir when, soon after the two converse about the Macon country, Vladimir states, “you always come crawling back.” When their typical roles are reversed, Estragon becomes angry and his actions are effortful, and Vladimir becomes unintelligent. That said, they are often equally dissatisfied in their typical roles. The only difference is that the typical roles take precedence for the majority of the play, and they default to those roles, exemplifying why their typical roles are as they are—why Vladimir must be the more independent of the two, and Estragon the more dependent: in order to better maintain homeostasis as they wait together for extended periods of time.
VLADIMIR: You want to get rid of him?
(23) Vladimir asks Pozzo why Lucky never puts down Pozzo’s bag in the middle of Act 1. Pozzo prepares to answer Vladimir’s question, but after spending quite some time demanding everyone to look at him, loses his train of thought. Vladimir and Estragon mime their question and Pozzo responds vaguely. There is a stream of dialogue that runs down the page, in which Pozzo comes up with various answers as to why Lucky never lets go of his bags and Vladimir repeats the question, “You want to get rid of him?” five times. At the bottom of the page, Vladimir interjects an aberration of “You want to get rid of him?” and demands “You waagerrim?” Only then does Pozzo recognize the fact that Vladimir has been asking him a question and responds very matter-‐of-‐factly, “I do”. Only then, is the audience given a straightforward answer that is not questioned later.
Complications of Communication
MARTHA COLLINS
“You waagerrim?” Upon first glance, “waagerrim” seems like a made up word that was thrown into the dialogue to further confuse and disorient the audience. “Waagerrim”, when looked at a second time—and in the context of the play—appears to be an anomaly of the phrase “You want to get rid of him?” which Vladimir has previously repeated five times. Until this slurred phrase, Pozzo has been ignoring Vladimirs question. The repetition of the question was not enough for Pozzo to pay attention to Vladimir. It was instead the slurring of the phrase that ultimately caused Pozzo to respond. The dialogue that trudges its way down the page of this scene shows the effort that these characters must put forth in order to communicate effectively with one another.
Pozzo digresses from Vladimir’s question each time it is repeated:
Pozzo: …I’ll give up the idea of parting with him. No, that’s not exactly it either. Vladimir: You want to get rid of him? Pozzo: He wants to cod me, but he wont.
This excerpt demonstrates the first time Pozzo passes over Vladimir’s inquiry. There is no recognition, or even a pause, that signifies his acknowledgement towards the question. Pozzo is instead focused on trying to solve the problem as to why Lucky never puts down his bags. Later down the page, after the third time Vladimir repeated the question, Pozzo asks if there is any other question for him to answer:
Vladimir: You want to get rid of him? Pozzo: He imagines that when I see him indefatigable I’ll regret my decision…Well that’s what I think. Anything else?
Pozzo asking the question if there is “Anything else” emphasizes the miscommunication between the two characters. Even after Pozzo’s inquiry and Vladimir response, which is to repeate himself for a fourth time, Pozzo digresses, and continues to drag on the subject of Lucky carrying the bags. The frequent repetition of the question, “You want to get rid of him?” is tiring for Vladimir. A sense of frustration builds each time the question is asked and each time it is
disregarded by Pozzo. When Vladimir breaks the pattern and slurs the question, his weariness of Vladimir becomes evident, as if his exasperation is reflected by the lack of articulation he puts into his question. As if he can only muster the energy to sigh the word “waagerrim.”
Vladimir must endure an irritating monologue-‐esque scene (for Pozzo) in order for his question to be finally answered. And when his question his answered, it is answered precisely and directly. Two short words, “I do”, which corresponds to his question both simply and strongly. The wishy-‐washiness of Pozzo comes to an abrupt end as soon as he listens to Vladimir’s demand. However the simplicity of the answer causes one to question why Pozzo could not have said it earlier on in the play, sparing Vladimir—and the audience— the time and patience it took him to repeat himself multiple times.
The driving force of the dialogue’s progression is Vladimir’s repeated question, which could have been answered easily after it was repeated a first time. Instead, Vladimir struggles to communicate with Pozzo, and only until this exasperation is audible does Pozzo respond. Beckett, by purposely slowing down the play’s momentum, which does not start up again until Vladimir is at his last wit’s end, is commenting on the endeavor these characters—or man—must go through in order to relay information.
VLADIMIR:
ESTRAGON:
We can still part, if you think it would be better. It’s not worthwhile now. Silence.
(44) Toward the end of the first act, a boy approaches Vladimir and Estragon. He claims to be the messenger of Godot, although he does not deliver or demonstrate much understanding of Godot. When the boy leaves, it is suddenly a cold evening. Vladimir tries to draw Estragon many times to get him to leave, but the latter intended to linger, and raised the doubt that if the two men should continue staying with one another. The doubt was articulated but the resolution remained unclear. Finally, after Vladimir and Estragon agree each other to leave, the act finishes with stage direction, “They do not move.”
Never to Part JIAYI ZHENG
Like waiting, to pass the time in the company of someone else is passive. But making the decision of parting, or ending such a companionship, is much more active. It requires an incentive, which justifies the resolution of one’s creating this change. By handing the decision to Estragon, Vladimir refuses to make this move, revealing his unwillingness to change the current state of his relationship with Estragon.
Although Vladimir does not seem happy about the idea of parting, he does come up with a reason for which Estragon may want to part: a better life. Vladimir decides to accept Estragon’s decision, if Estragon is determined to believe that the separation between the two of them will bring a positive change in the future. To be “better” is vague. The biggest dissatisfaction that we as audience can obtain from Vladimir and Estragon’s exchanges throughout the play may be that they are not able to wait for the entrance of Godot, a character we know little about. To improve Vladimir and Estragon’s situation and thus make it “better” may be to have Godot appear finally. But why would “parting” help with this outcome? On the other hand, if the arrival of Godot is not the biggest satisfaction that can better the future for Estragon, why has he been here all these years, waiting, not parting?
Vladimir did not ask any of the above questions to Estragon. He simply states his acceptance with ease, showing that he completely understands Estragon if Estragon were to make such decisions. But no matter how accepting Vladimir is, it is apparent that he does not believe parting will be “better.” This unwillingness to part labels him as accepting of the endless waiting.
Earlier in this act, the boy who claims to be the messenger of Godot comes with little to no information of Godot. Our expectation of being a messenger is broken. The boy does not bring with him the message that Vladimir and Estragon long for, but he himself, being a result of their waiting, becomes a symbol of hope for them:
VLADIMIR: I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? BOY: I don’t know sir.
During this brief exchange, both Vladimir and the boy are unsure if they have seen each other before, refusing to trust their memories. The boy, being the symbol of hope, seems desperate himself. He does not have a reliable memory
over a period of time. So are Vladimir and Estragon, who have waited for something certain to come for years. The boy demonstrates little help and thus fails to put an end to Vladimir and Estragon’s waiting. Estragon, now desperate too, decides to accept the present. He remarks, “It’s not worth while now,” and steps back from being determined to change. It is not worthwhile to part anymore, for Estragon has given up the hope for future, acknowledging that the best the two of them can do is to wait endlessly. This pessimistic statement is followed by Vladimir’s silence. “Silence,” the brief one word of stage direction shows Vladimir’s unexpressed emotions toward Estragon’s response. Suddenly, they realize there is nothing “better” than the current will ever happen to them. They are forgotten, almost frozen in time, where similar events take place every day. Upon their surrender, they have become passive and powerless, unable to reach for any hope. Will it be better if they part? They don’t know anymore.
VLADIMIR: ESTRAGON: VLADIMIR: ESTRAGON: VLADIMIR: ESTRAGON: VLADIMIR:
When you seek you hear. You do. That prevents you from finding. It does. That prevents you from thinking. You think all the same. No no, impossible.
(54) One day with Estragon and Vladimir has passed, and Act 2 marks the dawning of a second. This particular selection falls at the beginning of Act 2, yet past the initial few pages, which recall the opening of Act 1. Estragon and Vladimir are alone and build on each other’s statements. Estragon, the more passionate contributor, repeats himself often in his replies to Vladimir. There are regular silences (stage directions, [Silence.] and [Long silence.]) yet all are the fault of Vladimir who doesn’t continue the quick dialogue. However, he repeatedly calls on Estragon to “say something.” Finally, when Vladimir makes a plea of “Help me!” and Estragon doesn’t respond satisfactorily, he supplies his own topic, a meandering search that results in a reference to the act of thinking. Estragon rounds off the dialogue with “That wasn’t such a bad little canter,” and the men move on to their next topic.
An Exercise in Careful Thoughtlessness
SAMANTHA BOTTOM-‐TANZER According to Vladimir, thinking is the step after “finding” which, in turn, follows “seeking.” However, can this small progression or discovery be called thinking? The scene itself is sandwiched between two of Estragon’s lines which strongly suggest that none of the dialogue present results from thought, only the need for conversation. Because of these two lines and the strategic bookending of the scene between them, the “thought” in this passage holds no true ring of independent, viable thought, but instead is only meaningless banter. During the sets of dialogue that precede Vladimir’s “thinking, finding, seeking” wordplay, Vladimir repeats, with increasing anguish, “Say something,” “Say anything at all,” and finally, “Help me!” Eventually, he takes it upon himself to carry on the dialogue, or, if considered in slightly different terms, seek another topic of which to converse. However, he doesn’t get far. Estragon is quick to mock, dramatizing Vladimir’s well intentioned comments with lines such as, “That’s the idea, let’s contradict each other,” and “That’s the idea, let’s ask each other questions.” On a grander scale, what may indeed be an authentic stab at thought is sandwiched between clear suggestions that the entire scene is simply an exercise in passing the time. Estragon’s first line is, “In the meantime, let us try and converse calmly since we are incapable of keeping silent.” Estragon again rounds the experience off with, “That wasn’t such a bad little canter.” “Incapable,” or “lacking the necessary ability, capacity, or power” suggests a weakness and not strength. On the contrary, thought and the ability to exercise coherent thought are considered, in the vast majority of situations, as strengths. Therefore, if Vladimir and Estragon are forced, by their own inability to keep silent, to continue the conversation, can anything that takes place within it be called thought? Additionally, Estragon uses the word, “canter,” meaning “an easy gallop,” which has connotations of not being fully serious. It is different from galloping, a faster paced and more labor intensive gait. Instead, the use of “canter” gives the whole dialogue an effortless sort of sentiment, free from the heavy seriousness that is often brought on by true thought. In many ways, even the rhythm of the passage itself is suggestive of “a canter.” Towards the beginning of the scene, Vladimir and Estragon partake in simple back and forth banter. “Like leaves, like sand, like leaves,” they shoot back and forth at each other, building up a rhythm.
However, where the passage differs in pace from the regular pounding gait of a canter, are the frequent and often lengthy pauses. Vladimir is always the culprit in the making of these recurring pauses, and by disrupting the rhythm of his and Estragon’s wordplay, he is insinuating thought. In some ways, it would be easier, and certainly less emotionally taxing for Vladimir, to simply continue on with the conversation, obediently returning each remark from Estragon. The fact that he is unable to respond, or simply chooses not to, is indicative of two points. First of all, it seems more likely that Vladimir’s responses are more “thought out” than those of Estragon. The deliberateness that follows a long silence suggests this. Secondly, Vladimir is creating an anomaly. By disrupting the conversation he is not simply playing along with Estragon’s initial suggestion of “conversing calmly since we are incapable of keeping silent.” Vladimir is instead introducing a series of silences into their conversation. Does this mean that Vladimir’s thought is indeed valid and outside of the parameters of the superficiality that Estragon has set? While Vladimir’s silences are suggestive of thought, in the end, they don’t signify the act of thinking any more than Estragon’s quick repartee. This is because Vladimir is uncomfortable with his silences. He begs Estragon for help and, finally, when Estragon can add no aid, Vladimir opens the topic of thought itself—but not for the sake of thinking. Again, the root of the reason for this foray into thought stems from Vladimir’s inability to be silent, just as Estragon proclaimed in his first line. Thus the two men, while brushing on the topic of thought itself, don’t engage in the act of thinking.
ESTRAGON:
VLADIMIR:
We don’t manage too badly, eh Didi, between the two of us? ...We always find something, eh Didi, to give us the impression we exist? (impatiently) Yes, yes, we’re magicians. But let us persevere in what we have resolved, before we forget.
(59) In the first half of act two, before Pozzo and Lucky make their second appearance, Vladimir begins a new train of diversion by offering a radish to Estragon (58). This exchange over the available vegetables reveals in a particularly concrete way the limited, pitiable stock of items that they have to work with in their present state. The two men then take up a few other activities to pass the time, Vladimir engaging Estragon and himself in getting a pair of boots onto Estragon’s feet, and Estragon revealing his more inactive nature by attempting to take a restful nap. This pattern of dispositions towards action continues as Vladimir takes up singing and agitated pacing to pass time and try to comfort Estragon while Estragon resists this activeness and expresses his preference for sleeping, relating his dream, and sitting still.
Antithesis Filling Absence SOPHIE PANGLE
Throughout Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, Vladimir and Estragon base their lives predominantly on waiting for something absent that is desired and anticipated, and because of this, the two are limited to a very diminished substance in their actual present lives. Godot and his absence form a unending pulse through the two men’s lives, a yearning so persistent that it seeps even to the edges of their sleep and into their subconscious emotions. This yearning for Godot brings about an equally persistent anticipation for the freedom to leave their desolate place of waiting, and the two men bemoan their inability to leave as often as they confront the absence of Godot. This prospect of leaving their waiting place after their wait is fulfilled is so desired that Vladimir’s allusion to it calms and puts Estragon to sleep in his nap on the mound. Vladimir sings a one-‐word song here, “Bye bye bye...” which has the double meaning of being crudely related to the lullaby, “Rock-‐a-‐bye baby,” but also of being the word one would say upon leaving, the action that Vladimir and Estragon can never take because of their wait (60). The suggestion of waiting’s end seems to work in this case and Estragon falls asleep, only to be awakened by the frights of a nightmare that Vladimir calms with the words, “it’s all over” (61). This phrase, chosen instead of one like “it wasn’t real” that would draw on the comforts of a secure real world, also recalls the prospect of their wait being fulfilled and drawn to an end, and it is this that calms Estragon and snaps him out of his delirium. This absence, so permeating that even the suggestion of its fulfillment puts the mind at rest, is what colors the two men’s bleak surroundings. Vladimir displays it and its effects quite tangibly at the beginning of this scene when he reveals the pathetically deficient supply of vegetables available to them. The majority of the scene then consists in a display of the two men’s attempts to work their way through this emptiness with various pastimes, and these endeavors highlight their opposite ways of dealing with the emptiness of their present existence, reflecting and bringing into contrast two categories of dealing with the depravation of meaningful substance and action. Examining the situation of Estragon’s nap alone, we see Vladimir’s unceasing activity and Estragon’s affinity for repose. While Vladimir’s choice remedy for both the cold and disturbed dreams is pacing back and forth, Estragon admits that he’d “rather be stuck there doing nothing” than engage in anything that tires him out (61). When Estragon embraces the inactivity inherent in their situation and tries to nap, Vladimir passes time compulsively
with a song that at first impedes Estragon’s sleep rather than helping it with the song’s volume. It often appears that Vladimir is trying desperately to ward off the emptiness of their lives with any kind of action. He resists Estragon’s attempt to recount his dream, an attempt that begins with the words, “I was on top of a—,” quite plausibly intended to be ended with “mound,” the thing he was just resting on top of during his nap (61). If this were the case, the nightmare would be about Estragon’s real life. Even if this was not quite the case, can one imagine Vladimir calmly listening to his companion’s dream? The investigation of dreams usually cuts directly to our subconscious emotions, to a hidden awareness of our purest feelings about our lives, and such a journey could only lead the two into a flood of the overwhelming emptiness in their lives. These contrasting methods of coping with the emptiness of the two men’s lives are summed up revealingly in the most overtly philosophical exchange of the passage. After Vladimir hits on another source of time-‐passing in trying on the spare boots, Estragon remarks, “We always find something, eh Didi, to give us the impression we exist?,” and Vladimir responds in the usual contradictory manner with, “Yes, yes we’re magicians. But let us persevere in what we have resolved, before we forget” (59). It is first striking here that Estragon seems content with the mere “impression we exist” rather than something that creates an actually meaningful existence, but this phrase does line up with his tendency to embrace their relatively meaningless existence. One only makes these kinds of satirical remarks, poking at the idea that a mere impression of existence is enough, when one is in a certain way resigned to one’s situation. It reflects a certain level of embracing a situation when one tries to draw amusement from a degraded condition. On the other hand, Vladimir in his response has the flustered insistence of someone who is earnestly fighting the doom of emptiness. While his plan to bide time holds no attempt to achieve anything particularly meaningful, it does bear an active attempt to avoid the peril of forgetful inaction, unlike Estragon’s diversions. The thing that Estragon is really pointing to, though, when he makes this existentialistic reflection on their condition, is, “We don’t manage too badly, eh Didi, between the two of us?,” indicating that between these two methods of coping with such a deprived and empty situation, they make together something livable and perhaps even enjoyable (59). Out of their quibbles and contrasting extremes arises a deep and ongoing friendship, an ability to correct and curb each other’s missteps and overdone actions, and the gift for each of using the other’s tendencies to balance his own. Estragon could never make his cathartic satirical remark on their situation was he not teasing and pushing against his
friend’s single-‐minded drive for occupation, and Vladimir’s plans to pass time could only lead him to compulsive, trivially-‐consumed madness were it not for such catharsis from Estragon. Together, the two men’s dispositions average into a median that retains a range of perception wider than any that could be achieved in one man alone. For without the other to balance each out, one could never devote himself so fully to truthfully dwelling in the destitution of inaction and bareness, and the other could never fight so whole-‐heartedly the crucial battle against this emptiness.
Estragon hands Vladimir’s hat back to Vladimir who takes it and hands it back to Estragon who takes it and hands it back to Vladimir who takes it and throws it down.
(62) In the first half of Act II, Vladimir and Estragon turn their attention from root vegetables to an empty pair of boots. Together, they yank the boots onto Estragon’s feet. Estragon sits on the mound to try to fall asleep. He resumes his fetal posture from Act I while Vladimir sings an ominous lullaby: “Bye bye bye…” Vladimir paces. Estragon wakes with a start from a nightmare about falling. He says “Let’s go,” but, of course, they are waiting for Godot. Vladimir paces. Estragon despairs. Vladimir complains about Estragon’s despair. Estragon says “I’m going”. He bids Vladimir farewell, but Vladimir has noticed Lucky’s hat on the ground, which confirms that they are waiting in the right place. He hands his hat to Estragon, puts Lucky’s on his own head, and thus begins a lengthy, ritualistic hat passing cycle, culminating in Vladimir’s question, “How does it fit me?”
TESS BISSELL
“Estragon takes Vladimir’s hat. Vladimir adjusts Lucky’s hat on his head. Estragon puts on Vladimir’s hat in place of his own which he hands to Vladimir. Vladimir takes Estragon’s hat…” and so the cycle continues, for nearly half a page. This cycle is formulaic: ___ takes ___’s hat. ___adjusts ___’s hat on his head, and so on. It is polite, maybe even fair: everyone gets a turn; each man has a moment to adjust his hat and become acquainted with it. Passing the hat demands teamwork from both Vladimir and Estragon because “passing”, by definition, requires more than one party (though, if any play included someone passing a hat to himself, it would be Waiting for Godot.) Some of Gogo and Didi’s conversations reflect this same teamwork, formulism, and sense of etiquette:
Vladimir: That’s where you were sitting yesterday evening. Estragon: If I could only sleep. Vladimir: Yesterday you slept. Estragon: I’ll try.
Here, Estragon provides a quandary and Vladimir offers a memory that
might help resolve his friend’s problem. Compared to other passages peppered with insults like “Spirochete!” this exchange is very well-‐mannered. Each man has an equal part to play; things seem just. It is a predictable world, but maybe not such a bad place to be. Then again, almost any circumstance is preferable to the ditch where Estragon was beaten, or to the hypothetical failed (or half-‐failed) double suicide: Gogo dead, Didi alone. After a few rounds of the hat cycle, “Estragon hands Vladimir’s hat back to Vladimir who takes it and hands it back to Estragon who takes it and hands it back to Vladimir…” Gogo breaks one predictable cycle, only to begin another. This cycle moves briskly in choppy increments, like a vertical cascade of dialogue: Estragon: A relaxation.
Vladimir: A recreation. Estragon: A relaxation.
The main question of this cycle is: are Gogo and Didi collaborating –
modifying the other’s words – for optimal precision? In this case, Estragon is genuinely convinced that trying on the boots will be “a relaxation”, not a recreation; by repeating himself, he strives for accuracy and correctness. Or, are Gogo and Didi at odds with one another? In that case, Estragon petulantly asserts that he, and only he, is right. To translate this back into hats: as Gogo and Didi pass Vladimir’s hat between them, are they working together, trying to understand or achieve something? Or, are they competing? Perhaps this rapid exchange is a test of mental endurance, and they play until someone forfeits.
Just as the rapid rhythm of their exchange is established, “Vladimir takes it [the hat] and throws it down.” Here, the stage directions end, and Vladimir asks, “How does it fit me?” After constructing and then breaking two cycles – two discrete worlds each with their own rules and puzzlements – the two men stand as before: Vladimir wears Lucky’s hat and Estragon wears his own. They are still waiting, still passing the time, still finding things to give them the impression that they exist.
If nothing changes between the beginning and ending of the lengthy, hat-‐related stage directions, then is the entire hat debacle pointless? What would Waiting for Godot look like without this passage, and other passages like it – those that seem to be nonsensical asides? Near the end of Act II, Vladimir offers up one possible answer: “Tomorrow…what shall I say of today? That with Estragon…I waited for Godot? That Pozzo passed, with his carrier, and that he spoke to us? Probably.” What appear to be interludes or babble are actually the meat of Waiting for Godot. Without the gibberish or the frenzied hat passing or Lucky’s soliloquy, the play would be a plot summary – though a short, vague, and strange one.
POZZO:
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.
(80)
Upon Pozzo’s re-‐entry into the play in act two, something is different about him that has remained a mystery up until now; Pozzo is blind and can’t remember that he saw Estragon and Vladimir the day before. All three men quibble back and forth trying to determine their relationship as well as the time of day while Lucky, now dumb, is suffering on the ground. Upon Vladimir’s and Pozzo’s urging, Estragon goes to help Lucky, but instead, beats him until his own foot is hurt. Still unsure of the status of their relationship and with no reason to stay, Pozzo leaves with Lucky, leaving Estragon, Vladimir and the audience with a philosophical question: what is time when life is nothing but fleeting moment?
A Well-‐Intentioned Path DANA VANDERBURGH
Though Pozzo’s sudden blindness is shocking, his reaction to his new condition is even more so. How can someone become blind in one day and not be upset by it? However, Pozzo’s pointed question at the end of the scene provides a lense in which to view Pozzo’s blasé attitude; he is living life in the moment. However, his own desire to determine the time and his relationship with Estragon and Vladimir contradicts his own wisdom which suggests Pozzo, like all humans, is incapable of simply living in the moment.
When Pozzo delivers his wisdom-‐laced tirade at the end of the scene, he helps answer the question that arises over the course of the scene, why is Pozzo untroubled about being blind? Pozzo is “(suddenly furious)” after being subject to three pages of questions from Vladimir about when, how and why Pozzo went blind and Lucky went dumb. After being so patient throughout the conversation, Pozzo has exploded; he can’t take another question. He begins his speech with “have you not done tormenting me” which shows how he has viewed these questions as painful to endure. However, he is not rendered upset by his blindness. This is because when Pozzo finally elaborates on his blindness in response to Vladimir’s questions and says, “I woke up one day as blind as Fortune” he is alluding to a powerlessness that he has accepted, as shown by his lack of complaints. Fortune connotes the idea of something that one can’t control which fits the action of suddenly going blind. Pozzo is aware of his blindness but is more aware that it is out of his control and therefore not something to worry about. Also, it is impossible to ignore the fact that fortune is most often used to describe good luck and wealth which suggests that he has found his blindness to be something other than this awful problem. Instead, he is upset with “your accursed time. It’s abominable!” and goes on to ask if “one day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind...” This is directly pointed towards the nature of Vladimir’s questions that often included, “when” and “why” and demonstrates that Pozzo is not fixated upon what was, only upon the fact that he is blind and dislikes those who dwell on the circumstances of the past. Because he uses the “you” so frequently in this monologue, he is distancing himself from what he believes to be the problem: he is not fixating on time and is accusing both Vladimir and Estragon of doing so.
But, in all of Pozzo’s conviction, he unknowingly contradicts his previous actions, embodying how humans need to establish the present through assessing time. Most notably, he asks several times “is it evening” and gets so fed up
waiting for an answer that he asks, “why don’t you answer me.” He is not trying to establish the circumstances of the past, but by so desiring to figure out his place in time, he is no different from Estragon and Vladimir who want to know about the past to understand the present situation. This need to understand the present is so great that Pozzo is “(anguished):” suffering a deep physical and mental pain. Estragon and Vladimir aren’t described as such, but the fact that Estragon ends up hurt because of Lucky and Vladimir can’t move past his desire to understand Pozzo’s blindness is a sort of anguish. Both are consumed by something that is preventing them from enjoying the present. Pozzo’s contradicting actions and beliefs illustrate that it is impossible for humans to live without the overwhelming desire to understand when, where and why we are where we are at any given point in time. This profound sentiment is also seen when Pozzo and Lucky leave right after Pozzo finishes railing against the notion of time. Instead of staying to face the present, Pozzo decides to continue on this voyage, one without an apparent destination, where he will also be in limbo and unable to stop and enjoy what is directly around him. He is effectively searching for the joy in the present but in doing so, fails to realize that this search is what is preventing him from experiencing the present. He believes that humans “give birth astride a grave” and that life is “a brief instant” he is wrong. How can anyone enjoy the many years of life believing that it is so short and meaningless. The answer, according to Waiting for Godot, is that humans can’t and therefore waste their lives wandering along this well-‐intentioned path.
VLADIMIR: (Softly). Has he a beard, Mr. Godot?
(80)
In this scene, Vladimir and Estragon have just encountered Pozzo and Lucky for the second time. Vladimir is beginning to question his purpose here, and how much longer he will be suspended… waiting. Eventually, a boy comes to give Vladimir a message. Having lived through this just yesterday, Vladimir already knows what the boy will say. Mr. Godot cannot come today, but will come tomorrow, for sure. Vladimir begins drilling the boy on what Mr. Godot is like, what he does, trying to make some sense of the situation. Among these questions is the quote above, with the stage direction (softly) falling before it.
Softly GILLIAN O’BRIEN
Softly is defined as “1. In a quiet voice or manner. 2. With a gentle or slow movement.” Already, with two definitions at our feet, the question is raised, “What did the author intend with this direction to the actor?” Since such indications are very rare throughout the play, the words that follow the “(softly)” are made all the more important.
The text surrounding the quote consists of much more concrete and purposeful questions by Vladimir such as: But Mr. Godot will come tomorrow? You didn’t see any other men? You’re sure you saw us? What does Mr. Godot do? The boy’s hesitant responses to Vladimir's interrogation show that Vladimir has a strong, aggressive manner in this scene, and is frustrated that the boy is not giving the answers he wants to hear. Vladimir is asking these questions with clear intention. He is trying desperately to solve the puzzle of these past two days. But this question, “Does he have a beard, Mr. Godot?” along with the stage direction, “softly” seem to come out of left field. It shows a clear change of pace in the scene. So how should the actor and reader interoperate this surprising “softly,” and childlike inquiry about Mr. Godots beard? On one hand, Vladimir could be attempting not to scare the boy away. The boys minimal responses of “Yes sir,” and “No sir” are clearly not satisfying, and in Vladimir's perspective, not truthful, either. By lowering his tone, he could be leveling with the boy, and trying to draw out the real answers. The possibility that Vladimir is embarrassed about his question is also likely. He may be self-‐conscious that the boy will judge his random question, or even repeat what he has asked to Mr. Godot himself. Or maybe Vladimir is having a personal, internal moment. Maybe he has had many conversations with Mr. Godot in his mind, and always imagines a man with a long, white beard. Now, he wants to confirm the picture in his head, as he revisits it once more with this boy. All of these explanations are possible, and may be simultaneously true. But more than any of these explanations, the most important is the idea that this moment shows a loss of strength. This question is the only one that doesn’t serve a clear purpose in the search to make sense of the mysterious Godot. Vladimir is letting his guard down by asking a question that serves a personal interest. His faith that Godot would arrive throughout the play was unmoving and unconditional. Both in tone and speech, though, he has deflated and the first sense of doubt begins to creep in. This is a moment in which Vladimir's faith
changes, and he suddenly becomes more willing to dwell in the possible hopelessness of his circumstance. He goes from waiting for the future, to beginning to deal and come to terms with it. Vladimir has finally given up. Noticing this after he is finished asking the boy about Mr. Godot’s beard, Vladimir tries to regain himself and his strength by becoming overly aggressive, and nearly loses control when he attempts to catch the boy before he escapes again. He is shocked at himself for allowing his faith to become compromised.
VLADIMIR: You’re sure you saw me, you won’t come and tell me to-‐morrow that you never saw me!
(82)
At the end of Act 2, Vladimir converses with the boy who came to tell him about Mr. Godot’s postponement of their appointment. Throughout this exchange, the boy only gives curt ‘Yes sir’s or ‘No sir’s in response to Vladimir’s questions. Vladimir asks questions that confirm the fact that this conversation with the boy is a repeat of yesterday’s, and yet the boy doesn’t remember. When ending the conversation, he hesitates to repeat what he said yesterday (“tell him you saw me”), but ends up saying it just the same. The last thing he says is, “You’re sure you saw me, you won’t come and tell me to-‐morrow that you never saw me,” which scares the boy away.
What Are We Afraid Of?
SHELLY PIRES
When the boy enters in Act 2, Vladimir has just finished with a soliloquy reflecting on his fate throughout the play. It’s striking because he finally points out the fact that every day is the same and yet he’s not sure there’s any certain meaning behind it all. The fact that is so obvious out this play and yet causes a lot of awkward foot-‐shuffling is that nothing seems to happen, and here he’s just brought it out into the open. In this sense, he functions as a voice for the audience. After a moment like this, it only makes sense that some kind of intense change would happen, right? He pointed out the pattern, so now the pattern should be broken. And yet, the boy comes onstage, and we’re back into the same daily routine. Vladimir comments on this when he says, “Off we go again,” but he doesn’t argue—he goes along with it, same as he does every day. In this sense, it’s as if Vladimir is resigning himself to the unchanging nature of his life. But Vladimir breaks the pattern slightly by asking a question that seems off topic—does Godot have a beard, and what color is it? The stage directions state that this line should be read softly, distinguishing it from all the other lines he’s spoken to the boy. Dropping his volume implies he is being more sincere with the boy, and less confrontational; it also lends a certain importance to what he’s about to say, different from all the other regurgitated lines he’s said before. And yet the question is, “Does Mr. Godot have a beard?” This is the beginning of Vladimir’s final attempt to pull himself out of the routine of the play. While he seems resigned when he tells the boy to tell Mr. Godot that he saw Vladimir, he steps forward and tries one more time. The exclamation point at the end of this quote implies a raised volume, and urgency in his voice. His statement implies, “I’m going along with this, but I don’t want to repeat this again tomorrow.” Even as he says this to the boy, it’s futile: he runs off. Vladimir has made his last attempt, but he knows that his words to the boy probably won’t affect the routine; he will come back tomorrow and say he’s never seen Vladimir. And even though Vladimir knows that this routine will play itself out every day, himself being the only one aware of it, his actions toward the end of the play don’t change. In fact, the end of Act 2 is almost exactly the same as the end of Act 1. The big question, then, is why does he resign himself to this change? Are we, as an audience, supposed to resign ourselves to the fact that Waiting for
Godot is a play in which nothing happens? The answer is on the next page, after Estragon asks, “If we dropped him?” Vladimir answers: “He’d punish us.” This isn’t a fact that’s been brought up in the play before, even though we know that it’s important that they wait for Godot. But here, Vladimir makes it incredibly simple: he waits for Godot because he fears punishment. He’s never mentioned this before, but now that he’s pointed out the nature of his waiting, he has no choice but to answer why he waits in the first place. And the only thing greater than his fear of going through the same thing every day and being the only one who remembers is his fear of punishment.
ESTRAGON: VLADIMIR:
Why don’t we hang ourselves? With what?
(83-‐84) Vladimir wakes Estragon in the midst of dreaming of being happy. Estragon feels annoyed by his disruption. Estragon says, “lets go” to Vladimir but different from the first time (end of act 1) when practically the same scene occurred. This time Estragon realizes without Vladimir’s help that they can’t leave because they are waiting for Godot. While Estragon is fumbling around with his boot, Vladimir reflects on what occurred during this day. Afterwards, the boy enters and Vladimir asks him a series of questions quite similar to their initial interaction, though this time Vladimir expects particular responses from the boy even though in the end it is a different boy than earlier. The boy runs away when Vladimir approaches him more closely. Estragon then suggests to Vladimir that they could hang themselves even they do not have the materials to do so. Though the scene ends with Vladimir and Estragon deciding to leave, they do not move.
The Not So Serious Suicide
ZOEY DUNIVIN For Vladimir and Estragon each day is practically the same. They are always waiting and waiting for Godot and in the meantime are always trying to find ways to pass the time. When they realize that Godot is not coming, they wait, hoping for his arrival the next day. Essentially, their lives are meaningless and without purpose and pleasure. This is reflected in Estragon’s angry reaction when Vladimir wakes him while Estragon was dreaming he was happy (103). If there lives are truly so miserable why don’t they just end them?
The anticipation and torture drives the men insane to the point of desiring suicide, however, when Vladimir and Estragon contemplate suicide they do not think about in realistic terms. The two men do not have a plan to successfully kill themselves. Estragon suggests, “Wait, there’s my belt” (108) but Vladimir says, “It’s too short”. Their discussion of trying to find a way to kill themselves is ended when Estragon and Vladimir decide to bring a “Good bit of rope” tomorrow. For Estragon and Vladimir they never commit to something in that moment. It is always “We have to come back to-‐morrow” or “But he’ll [Godot] come to-‐morrow”(105).
Vladimir and Estragon are both characters that are stuck. They cannot live life fully and yet they are also unable to die. They desperately want to leave but are incapable of doing so. Even after they decide to leave, they are unable to because they continue to hold the hope that Godot will actually appear. It is as though they believe once they meet Godot the two men will feel satisfied. Instead of using suicide to end their misery they use it as a way to distract themselves from the waiting. They are simply trying to make the time pass in order to meet Godot. This is ironic because if they did kill themselves it would end the waiting. However, even when they state they are going to kill themselves they come up with excuses for not doing so: “It’s [the rope] too short” (108) and “Then [tomorrow] we can bring a good bit of rope”.
If Vladimir and Estragon were to kill themselves it would prevent them from meeting Godot which is ultimately the purpose of their waiting day after day. Instead, suicide becomes another diversion for them. If they were to successfully commit suicide, this would relieve them of the boredom of waiting and end their lives sooner. Not only is the waiting difficult for Estragon and Vladimir, but figuring out what to do while waiting is also a challenge. Without
Godot’s appearance it seems as though both of the men have no meaning to their days.
The scene ends with Vladimir saying “Well? Shall we go?” and Estragon responds, “Yes lets go”, (109) however, neither one of them moves and the cycle continues. Yet again they are unable to leave because there is always the promise of tomorrow – tomorrow Mr. Godot will come. The reason Vladimir and Estragon do not move is because of their constant desire to meet Godot. It seems as though the men have a fantasy of what their lives will become when they meet Godot. Even though they will not meet him, they choose to keep waiting in hopes of him coming. The boy who is Godot’s “messenger”, will come tomorrow and claim never to have seen Vladimir before just as he has, probably a thousands times before. Suicide would take Estragon and Vladimir out of their misery and stop their endless waiting for the appearance of Godot. While they realize on some level that waiting for Godot is useless, they seem merely to view suicide only as a topic of conversation to make the time go by faster, rather than a realistic solution to their struggle.