Tiff

According to my modern drama professor and more than a few others, Waiting for Godot is the best play of the twentieth century. For some of the rest of us, this Samuel Beckett play is the most boring ever written. As usual, I’m somewhere in the middle, although I certainly don’t think it is boring, and I believe it has some real significance. But what is its significance? What is important about this play? Really though, what is the relevance of any art? Oscar Wilde said that art is “quite useless.” Of course, just because Oscar Wilde said it doesn’t mean it’s completely true. I believe art serves a purpose, and my opinion is worth just as much as Wilde’s, even if he would trounce me in any sort of battle of words, written or spoken.

Waiting for Godot is about two homeless friends, Vladimir and Estragon, who sit around for two acts waiting for an unseen character named Godot. The two acts are two days, the setting is a barren landscape occupied by one tree, also barren, that magically grows a few leaves during the night of the first day. In both acts the men meet Pozzo, who seems to be a wealthy man, and Lucky, who is his grossly mistreated servant. In the second act Pozzo is blind. The men aren’t sure of what day it is, Estragon cannot tell one day from the next, forgets why they are waiting, and always wants to leave. He always comes back. Vladimir seems to be a more intelligent sort of man. Think of him as the mind and Estragon as the body. One is thinking, the other feeling. It is true they can’t seem to live away from one another, although both frequently express the sentiment that life would be better spent alone. Godot does not come on either day and instead sends a boy who promises his presence on the next day.

As I see it, Vladimir and Estragon are representative of all humanity. In this representation mankind is completely starved spiritually and loyally keeps the faith that something (whatever it may be) will come along to elevate their minds and lives. Despite the presence of many Biblical references, I can’t help but feel the total lack of hope when the play ends. If Godot were to come, he would have arrived in the second act. There is much speculation that Godot is God. If this is true, and Godot is in fact God: 1) God doesn’t exist, 2) God does not care, or 3) Estragon and Vladimir are not to be saved. In any case, the situation is bleak. Vladimir speaks of the thieves who were crucified beside Christ in Act I. Only one of the gospel writers mentions a man being saved.  Two don’t even mention the instance, and the other claims that both men were damned. Vladimir is concerned with the conflicting stories. He needs to know the real truth to decipher whether or not he has a chance at salvation as well. He needs to know whether he should be “waiting for Godot to come…or for night to fall” (91).

Our professor read us a quote from his book today about Godot that asserted the fact that the play elevates human dignity. Upon Pozzo’s entrance during the second act, he falls. As he is calling for help, Vladimir expresses very acute distress at his cries, and likens them to the need of humanity. It’s a very valiant, heroic monologue for a homeless man, but admirable nonetheless. If anything, this is what the quote was refering to. No matter how small and seemingly insignificant, Vladimir and Estragon, and all of us have this social duty to the rest of mankind. I would be lying if I said that didn’t make me feel a bit ashamed. What I don’t understand is an event that happens at the end of the play. The boy sent by Godot has come again to excuse his master. Just as before he asks if Vladimir has anything to say to Godot. In Act I Vladimir says, “tell him you saw us” (56). There is a slight change in Act II: “tell him you saw me” (106). All of the dignity he might have acquired is lost in that moment, when he abandons Estragon. But I see it as a complication of his humanity. It is a poignant moment in which you realize that he really does represent mankind and all of its shortcomings, but it is with some consternation that we recognize the resemblance, because we are implicated in the fray.

Beckett, Samuel. Waiting for Godot. New York: Grove Press, 1954.

Is literature still relevant in this current distraction-filled society?  I would answer with a resounding “YES!” but not everyone likes to read as I do.  I know many (not all) English majors who would rather text than complete assigned readings for class, although I suppose that rampant texting might be present in every classroom, since it seems to have become an illness of the youth.  The epidemic effects all of us.  Anyway, English majors are supposed to like reading, and if they can’t focus, I don’t even want to imagine what the general population thinks.  But college students are a small part of this general ‘general population’ I speak of.  Now, I can’t say that every piece of writing is absolutely captivating, but I at least make the attempt to stay awake.  I had a tough time with Beowulf, but I tried.  So many kids seem to be stuck in this lethargic apathy.  Do we care about anything?  Where is the passion?  Not for football, but for the reason you go to school.  Anything.  It doesn’t matter if it’s bats or medicine or numbers, you’ve got to have a love for something other than partying and chasing tail.  I know, I know, we’re in college, and this is supposed to be the best time of our lives.  Maybe I’m just uptight…I’ll quit my rant about the contemporary position of books that quickly turned into my “You’re all idiots” opinion of college students.  Sorry if I offended anyone, but seriously, turn off your phones during class.  Professors deserve at least that much respect.  My questions for you are: How do you feel about the wonderful world of literature?  Do you read?  If so, what do you read?  Do you like talking about it?  I NEED your feedback.