Waiting for Godot..
Last night as the football game was winding down I, being well rounded, turned the channel to PBS, the public broadcasting station. A program was in progress but I surmised it was a televised production of a play. A very strange play, but I was transfixed by the scenery, which was simply a road thru a small rock covered hill, with a lone tree in the background. Though obviously on a sound stage the rocks appeared to be real shale like stone, and the backdrop reminded me somewhat of New Mexico, with dry clouds disgorging virga.
Captured by the scenery I quickly perceived how very odd the play was. The dialogue was an almost childlike inane banter between two bums who were the chief protaginists. For some strange reason it came to me that this was Waiting for Godot by Sam Beckett, although I had never seen the play, nor even knew the story line. I was correct. The two tramps, Vladimir and Estragon are at this rocky place waiting for, you guessed it, Godot, a man they have never met, nor even know anything about. They play as counterpoints to each other, like an Everyman and his conscience. Not happy with each other, but not happy apart. They have trouble making the simplest of decisions, and when they do so cannot bring themselves to act upon the thought. The other characters are Pozzo and his servant, slave really, Lucky who probably represent the ruling class of the world and the workers. The fifth character, is a small boy who keeps appearing to tell the tramps that Godot will not come today, but surely will tomorrow.
Contrary to my days as a younger scholar when I would have changed the channel away from this insane drama, I stood with this, and surprised even myself by grasping what Beckett was saying. In the younger days, I would have thought this was nonsense and that Beckett was surely on drugs, or being Irish, more probably drunk. But no, the thought came to my mind, that this is existential, an existenial allegory. And one that probably holds more meaning today than when written. The tramps are waiting for someone, or something unknown to them to come and rescue them from the boredom of life, to give life meaning and most importantly to validate that they are even alive. How much of this do we see today! The lottery and films being the prime examples that come to mind. Instead of spending money on real things that could most assuredly be used to improve his life, today's Everyman chases things unknown and unattainable that offer a glimmer of hope, wishing for things not in reality that will make him someone, the ruling class and not the servant, make him feel like he is alive.......
As a postscript, I rather enjoy this new vein of scholarship and will most probably write again in the academic realm. Tomorrow come back as I delve into the deeper meanings Leave it to Beaver.
Last night as the football game was winding down I, being well rounded, turned the channel to PBS, the public broadcasting station. A program was in progress but I surmised it was a televised production of a play. A very strange play, but I was transfixed by the scenery, which was simply a road thru a small rock covered hill, with a lone tree in the background. Though obviously on a sound stage the rocks appeared to be real shale like stone, and the backdrop reminded me somewhat of New Mexico, with dry clouds disgorging virga.
Captured by the scenery I quickly perceived how very odd the play was. The dialogue was an almost childlike inane banter between two bums who were the chief protaginists. For some strange reason it came to me that this was Waiting for Godot by Sam Beckett, although I had never seen the play, nor even knew the story line. I was correct. The two tramps, Vladimir and Estragon are at this rocky place waiting for, you guessed it, Godot, a man they have never met, nor even know anything about. They play as counterpoints to each other, like an Everyman and his conscience. Not happy with each other, but not happy apart. They have trouble making the simplest of decisions, and when they do so cannot bring themselves to act upon the thought. The other characters are Pozzo and his servant, slave really, Lucky who probably represent the ruling class of the world and the workers. The fifth character, is a small boy who keeps appearing to tell the tramps that Godot will not come today, but surely will tomorrow.
Contrary to my days as a younger scholar when I would have changed the channel away from this insane drama, I stood with this, and surprised even myself by grasping what Beckett was saying. In the younger days, I would have thought this was nonsense and that Beckett was surely on drugs, or being Irish, more probably drunk. But no, the thought came to my mind, that this is existential, an existenial allegory. And one that probably holds more meaning today than when written. The tramps are waiting for someone, or something unknown to them to come and rescue them from the boredom of life, to give life meaning and most importantly to validate that they are even alive. How much of this do we see today! The lottery and films being the prime examples that come to mind. Instead of spending money on real things that could most assuredly be used to improve his life, today's Everyman chases things unknown and unattainable that offer a glimmer of hope, wishing for things not in reality that will make him someone, the ruling class and not the servant, make him feel like he is alive.......
As a postscript, I rather enjoy this new vein of scholarship and will most probably write again in the academic realm. Tomorrow come back as I delve into the deeper meanings Leave it to Beaver.
