Beckett like Chekhov a great poet of inertia tries to escape himself in the following way
'By being as little as possible. By not stirring, not thinking, not dreaming, not speaking, not listening, not perceiving, not knowing, not wanting, not being able...these were my prisons.
Is this coy jocularity, or is uncovering the subterfuge which we apply to ourselves. Both Chekhov and Beckett both dramatists excel in laying bare the forlorn hopelessness of any hope of improvement to our lot.
Every man feels free yet also feels him/ herself to be in chains, say the man who upset everybody Jean J, Rousseau
'By being as little as possible. By not stirring, not thinking, not dreaming, not speaking, not listening, not perceiving, not knowing, not wanting, not being able...these were my prisons.
Is this coy jocularity, or is uncovering the subterfuge which we apply to ourselves. Both Chekhov and Beckett both dramatists excel in laying bare the forlorn hopelessness of any hope of improvement to our lot.
Every man feels free yet also feels him/ herself to be in chains, say the man who upset everybody Jean J, Rousseau
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