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Beckett, Benjamin and the Modern Crisis
in Communication
by Jan Bruck
159
160 Jan Bruck
"I" sits, in purgatory, watching the shadows of Malone, Molloy and all
other heroes of the previous novels move past, no longer in life, mere
speech, language, consciousness. There is no longer any "story," however
rudimentary, to be told, all traditional categories of time, place, subject
and object have been jettisoned, all sense of continuity, tradition and
identity has been lost, and distrust in the power of memory is complete.
What is left is a conglomerate of contradictory, self-relativizing and non-
referential statements that flow on from page to page without a break,
"inarticulate murmurs" that cannot be ended. The "story" ends without
an end, so to speak: ". . . the voice begins again, it begins trying again,
quick now before there is none left, no voice left, nothing left but the core
of murmurs, distant cries, quick now and try again, with the words that
remain, try what, I don't know, to have them carry me into my story, the
words that remain, my old story, which I've forgotten, far from here,
through the noise, through the door, into the silence, that must be it, it's
too late, perhaps it's too late, perhaps they have, how would I know, in the
silence you don't know .." "... I can't go on, you must go on, I'll go on,
you must say words, as long as there are any, until they find me, until they
say me, strange pain, strange sin, you must go on, perhaps it's done
already, perhaps they have said me already, perhaps they have carried me
to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story, that
would surprise me, if it opens, it will be I, it will be silence, where am I, I
don't know, I'll never know, in the silence you don't know, you must go
on, I can't go on, I'll go on."8
It seems here that Beckett reached as close as one possibly could to ex-
pressing the fundamental dilemma of communication which he formulated
several times in his theoretical essays (Three Dialogues, I) and which
reappears, in distorted form, in The Unnamable: "The fact would seem to
be, if in my situation one may speak of facts, not only that I shall have to
speak of things of which I cannot speak, but also, which is even more
interesting, but also that I, which is if possible even more interesting, that I
shall have to, I forget, no matter. And at the same time I am obliged to
speak. I shall never be silent. Never."9
What a short-sighted critic discounts as "lack of talent" in writing
stories (Alvarez) is precisely the point of Beckett's work: by producing
texts which lack the essential ingredients of story-telling - plots with a
clear beginning, middle and end, and characters sure of their identity-
he demonstrates that the meaningful writing of stories and novels is no
longer possible. Beckett's prose is a parody of story-writing, it is "meta-
fiction" in the sense recently defined by Margret Rose, in that it "super-
sedes a tradition of prose, while making this reflective supersession a