The Unnamable (18 page)

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Authors: Samuel beckett

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understand
what they’re talking about. I’ll never stir, never speak, they’ll never go silent,
never depart, they’ll never catch me, never stop trying, that’s that. I’m listening.
Well I prefer that, I must say I prefer that, that what, oh you know, who you, oh
I suppose the audience, well well, so there’s an audience, it’s a public show, you
buy your seat and you wait, perhaps it’s free, a free show, you take your seat and
you wait for it to begin, or perhaps it’s compulsory, a compulsory show, you wait
for the compulsory show to begin, it takes time, you hear a voice, perhaps it’s a
recitation, that’s the show, someone reciting, selected passages, old favourites,
a poetry matinée, or someone improvising, you can barely hear him, that’s the show,
you can’t leave, you’re afraid to leave, it might be worse elsewhere, you make the
best of it, you try and be reasonable, you came too early, here we’d need Latin, it’s
only beginning, it hasn’t begun,
he’s only preluding, clearing his throat, alone in his dressingroom, he’ll appear
any moment, he’ll begin any moment, or it’s the stage-manager, giving his instructions,
his last
recommendations
, before the curtain rises, that’s the show, waiting for the show, to the sound of
a murmur, you try and be reasonable, perhaps it’s not a voice at all, perhaps it’s
the air, ascending, descending, flowing, eddying, seeking exit, finding none, and
the spectators, where are they, you didn’t notice, in the anguish of waiting, never
noticed you were waiting alone, that’s the show, waiting alone, in the restless air,
for it to begin, for
something
to begin, for there to be something else but you, for the power to rise, the courage
to leave, you try and be reasonable, perhaps you are blind, probably deaf, the show
is over, all is over, but where then is the hand, the helping hand, or merely charitable,
or the hired hand, it’s a long time coming, to take yours and draw you away, that’s
the show, free, gratis and for nothing, waiting alone, blind, deaf, you don’t know
where, you don’t know for what, for a hand to come and draw you away, somewhere else,
where perhaps it’s worse. And now for the it, I prefer that, I must say I prefer that,
what a memory, real
flypaper
, I don’t know, I don’t prefer it any more, that’s all I know, so why bother about
it, a thing you don’t prefer, just think of that, bothering about that, perish the
thought, one must wait, discover a preference, within one’s bosom, then it will be
time enough to institute an inquiry. Moreover, that’s right, link, link, you never
know, moreover their attitude towards me has not changed, I am deceived, they are
deceived, they have tried to deceive me, saying their attitude towards me had changed,
but they haven’t deceived me, I didn’t understand what they were trying to do to me,
I say what I’m told to say, that’s all there is to it, and yet I wonder, I don’t know,
I don’t feel a mouth on me, I don’t feel the jostle of words in my mouth, and when
you say a poem you like, if you happen to like poetry, in the
underground
, or in bed, for yourself, the words are there, somewhere, without the least sound,
I don’t feel that either, words falling, you don’t know where, you don’t know whence,
drops of silence
through the silence, I don’t feel it, I don’t feel a mouth on me, nor a head, do I
feel an ear, frankly now, do I feel an ear, well frankly now I don’t, so much the
worse, I don’t feel an ear either, this is awful, make an effort, I must feel something,
yes, I feel something, they say I feel something, I don’t know what it is, I don’t
know what I feel, tell me what I feel and I’ll tell you who I am, they’ll tell me
who I am, I won’t understand, but the thing will be said, they’ll have said who I
am, and I’ll have heard, without an ear I’ll have heard, and I’ll have said it, without
a mouth I’ll have said it, I’ll have said it inside me, then in the same breath outside
me, perhaps that’s what I feel, an outside and an inside and me in the middle, perhaps
that’s what I am, the thing that divides the world in two, on the one side the outside,
on the other the inside, that can be as thin as foil, I’m neither one side nor the
other, I’m in the middle, I’m the
partition
, I’ve two surfaces and no thickness, perhaps that’s what I feel, myself vibrating,
I’m the tympanum, on the one hand the mind, on the other the world, I don’t belong
to either, it’s not to me they’re talking, it’s not of me they’re talking, no, that’s
not it, I feel nothing of all that, try something else, herd of shites, say something
else, for me to hear, I don’t know how, for me to say, I don’t know how, what clowns
they are, to keep on saying the same thing when they know it’s not the right one,
no, they know nothing either, they forget, they think they change and they never change,
they’ll be there saying the same thing till they die, then perhaps a little silence,
till the next gang arrives on the site, I alone am immortal, what can you expect,
I can’t get born, perhaps that’s their big idea, to keep on saying the same old thing,
generation after generation, till I go mad and begin to scream, then they’ll say,
He’s mewled, he’ll rattle, it’s
mathematical
, let’s get out to hell out of here, no point in waiting for that, others need us,
for him it’s over, his troubles will be over, he’s saved, we’ve saved him, they’re
all the same, they all let themselves be saved, they all let themselves be born, he
was a tough nut, he’ll have a good time, a brilliant career, in fury and remorse,
he’ll never forgive himself, and so depart, thus
communing, in Indian file, or two by two, along the seashore, now it’s the seashore,
on the shingle, along the sands, in the evening air, it’s evening, that’s all I know,
evening, shadows, somewhere, anywhere, on the earth. Go mad, yes, but there it is,
what would I go mad with, and evening isn’t sure either, it needn’t be evening, dawn
too bestows long shadows, on all that is still standing, that’s all that matters,
only the shadows matter, with no life of their own, no shape and no respite, perhaps
it’s dawn, evening of night, it doesn’t matter, and so depart, towards my brethren,
no, none of that, no brethren, that’s right, take it back, they don’t know, they depart,
not knowing whither, towards their master, it’s possible, make a note of that, it’s
just possible, to sue for their freedom, for them it’s the end, for me the beginning,
my end begins, they stop to listen to my screams, they’ll never stop again, yes, they’ll
stop, my screams will stop, from time to time, I’ll stop screaming, to listen and
hear if anyone is answering, to look and see if anyone is coming, then go, close my
eyes and go, screaming, to scream elsewhere. Yes, my mouth, but there it is, I won’t
open it, I have no mouth, and what about it, I’ll grow one, a little hole at first,
then wider and wider, deeper and deeper, the air will gush into me, and out a second
later, howling. But is it not rather too much to ask, to ask so much, of so little,
is it really politic? And would it not suffice, without any change in the structure
of the thing as it now stands, as it always stood, without a mouth being opened at
the place which even pain could never line, would it not suffice to, to what, the
thread is lost, no matter, here’s another, would not a little stir suffice, some tiny
subsidence or upheaval, that would start things off, the whole fabric would be infected,
the ball would start a-rolling, the disturbance would spread to every part, locomotion
itself would soon appear, trips properly so called, business trips, pleasure trips,
research expeditions, sabbatical leaves, jaunts and rambles, honeymoons at home and
abroad and long sad solitary tramps in the rain, I indicate the main trends, athletics,
tossing in bed, physical jerks, locomotor ataxy, death throes, rigor and rigor mortis,
emergal of the bony
structure, that should suffice. Unfortunately it’s a question of words, of voices,
one must not forget that, one must try and not forget that completely, of a statement
to be made, by them, by me, some slight obscurity here, it might sometimes almost
be wondered if all their ballocks about life and death is not as foreign to their
nature as it is to mine. The fact is they no longer know where they’ve got to in their
affair, where they’ve got me to, I never knew, I’m where I always was, wherever that
is, and their affair, I don’t know what is meant by that, some process no doubt, that
I’ve got stuck in, or haven’t yet come to, I’ve got nowhere, in their affair, that’s
what galls them, they want me there somewhere, anywhere, if only they’d stop committing
reason, on them, on me, on the purpose to be achieved, and simply go on, with no illusion
about having begun one day or ever being able to conclude, but it’s too difficult,
too difficult, for one bereft of purpose, not to look forward to his end, and bereft
of all reason to exist, back to a time he did not. Difficult too not to forget, in
your thirst for something to do, in order to be done with it, and have that much less
to do, that there is nothing to be done, nothing special to be done, nothing doable
to be done. No point either, in your thirst, your hunger, no, no need of hunger, thirst
is enough, no point in telling yourself stories, to pass the time, stories don’t pass
the time, nothing passes the time, that doesn’t matter, that’s how it is, you tell
yourself stories, then any old thing, saying, No more stories from this day forth,
and the stories go on, it’s stories still, or it was never stories, always any old
thing, for as long as you can remember, no, longer than that, any old thing, the same
old thing, to pass the time, then, as time didn’t pass, for no reason at all, in your
thirst, trying to cease and never ceasing, seeking the cause, the cause of talking
and never ceasing, finding the cause, losing it again, finding it again, not finding
it again, seeking no longer, seeking again, finding again, losing again, finding nothing,
finding at last, losing again, talking without ceasing, thirstier than ever, seeking
as usual, losing as usual, blathering away, wondering what it’s all about, seeking
what it
can be you are seeking, exclaiming, Ah yes, sighing, No no, crying, Enough, ejaculating,
Not yet, talking incessantly, any old thing, seeking once more, any old thing, thirsting
away, you don’t know what for, ah yes, something to do, no no, nothing to be done,
and now enough of that, unless perhaps, that’s an idea, let’s seek over there, one
last little effort, seek what, pertinent objection, let us try and determine, before
we seek, what it can be, before we seek over there, over where, talking unceasingly,
seeking incessantly, in yourself, outside yourself, cursing man, cursing God, stopping
cursing, past bearing it, going on bearing it, seeking indefatigably, in the world
of nature, the world of man, where is nature, where is man, where are you, what are
you seeking, who is seeking, seeking who you are, supreme aberration, where you are,
what you’re doing, what you’ve done to them, what they’ve done to you, prattling along,
where are the others, who is talking, not I, where am I, where is the place where
I’ve always been, where are the others, it’s they are talking, talking to me, talking
of me, I hear them, I’m mute, what do they want, what have I done to them, what have
I done to God, what have they done to God, what has God done to us, nothing, and we’ve
done nothing to him, you can’t do anything to him, he can’t do anything to us, we’re
innocent, he’s
innocent
, it’s nobody’s fault, what’s nobody’s fault, this state of affairs, what state of
affairs, so it is, so be it, don’t fret, so it will be, how so, rattling on, dying
of thirst, seeking determinedly, what they want, they want me to be, this, that, to
howl, stir, crawl out of here, be born, die, listen, I’m listening, it’s not enough,
I must understand, I’m doing my best, I can’t
understand
, I stop doing my best, I can’t do my best, I can’t go on, poor devil, neither can
they, let them say what they want, give me something to do, something doable to do,
poor devils, they can’t, they don’t know, they’re like me, more and more, no more
need of them, no more need of anyone, no one can do anything, it’s I am talking, thirsting,
starving, let it stand, in the ice and in the furnace, you feel nothing, strange,
you don’t feel a mouth on you, you don’t feel your mouth any more, no need of a mouth,
the words are everywhere, inside me, outside me, well well, a minute ago I had no
thickness, I hear them, no need to hear them, no need of a head, impossible to stop
them, impossible to stop, I’m in words, made of words, others’ words, what others,
the place too, the air, the walls, the floor, the ceiling, all words, the whole world
is here with me, I’m the air, the walls, the walled-in one, everything yields, opens,
ebbs, flows, like flakes, I’m all these flakes, meeting, mingling, falling asunder,
wherever I go I find me, leave me, go towards me, come from me, nothing ever but me,
a particle of me, retrieved, lost, gone astray, I’m all these words, all these strangers,
this dust of words, with no ground for their settling, no sky for their
dispersing
, coming together to say, fleeing one another to say, that I am they, all of them,
those that merge, those that part, those that never meet, and nothing else, yes, something
else, that I’m something quite different, a quite different thing, a wordless thing
in an empty place, a hard shut dry cold black place, where nothing stirs, nothing
speaks, and that I listen, and that I seek, like a caged beast born of caged beasts
born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born in a cage and dead in a cage, born
and then dead, born in a cage and then dead in a cage, in a word like a beast, in
one of their words, like such a beast, and that I seek, like such a beast, with my
little strength, such a beast, with nothing of its species left but fear and fury,
no, the fury is past, nothing but fear, nothing of all its due but fear centupled,
fear of its shadow, no, blind from birth, of sound then, if you like, we’ll have that,
one must have something, it’s a pity, but there it is, fear of sound, fear of sounds,
the sounds of beasts, the sounds of men, sounds in the daytime and sounds at night,
that’s enough, fear of sounds, all sounds, more or less, more or less fear, all sounds,
there’s only one, continuous, day and night, what is it, it’s steps coming and going,
it’s voices speaking for a moment, it’s bodies groping their way, it’s the air, it’s
things, it’s the air among the things, that’s enough, that I seek, like it, no, not
like it, like me, in my own way, what am I saying, after my fashion, that I seek,
what do I seek now, what it is, it must be

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