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From Romania to France via America Novels „ La Traverse du Styx (Crossing the Styx) |
WAITING FOR GODEX Why a Sequel? I don't really care about sequels, rewrites, or
spin-offs. For the most part they are mediocre attempts to cash in on someone
else's glory. But when that someone puts humanity on trial and passes a
verdict, he triggers a philosophical debate. And instead of writing a dull academic
essay, this humanist chose the art form he expresses himself best in: playwriting. Beckett convinced us that
"astride of a grave and a difficult birth" there is waiting. Never
before had a playwright attempted to put humanity on trial and pass the
verdict. He found us guilty of waiting—waiting for the next paycheck, a
diamond ring, a new government, the Second Coming, a better world for
penguins, etc. We are always waiting for something to happen. In the
existential farce, fear is waiting, waiting is hope, and hope is life. But
for a chronic pessimist like Beckett, waiting is truckloads of misery. It is
hope that keeps us alive, but, as an Auschwitz survivor put it, it is also
hope that herds us to the gas chamber. When I saw Waiting for
Godot for the first time, I asked
myself: What if the two tramps get what they wish for (Godot's arrival)?
Would they be better off? Would they be worse off? Or would they be pretty
much the same? Just because Beckett wrote Godot with a non-arriving Godot in mind, it doesn't mean that Godot with an arriving Godot is not possible. True, bringing
Godex on stage tends to diminish his ambiguous nature, but it can be done. Is
he a prankster, a businessman, a Mafioso, death, God? I personally don't
know. Beckett reluctantly stated that Waiting for Godot is a play about waiting. I reluctantly state that Waiting
for Godex is a play about the cessation
of waiting. But what really is non-waiting? It is the grand
illusion—waiting without knowing, waiting spirally, or, if you fancy
Nietzsche, the "eternal recurrence." In my opinion Nietzsche's
puzzling philosophical concept refers to the eternal repetition of human
follies. Not exactly the same follies, but something similar in nature. The
message we can draw from Nietzsche is: Beware! If man's worst nightmares are
repeating ad infinitum, we must be prepared to deal with them, making sure
that another Hitler or Stalin won't get their chance. With all due respect,
Beckett only gives us the broad, static picture of waiting. He skips the
dynamics of the eternal process. The Waiting River springs from Mt. Hope and
flows into the Sea of Promise. Along its banks there is boredom and despair
(I canÕt go on!), resolution or revolution (no more waiting!), joy and
celebration (free at last!), and disappointment and emptiness (what now?). My
sequel completes the depressing
spiral of human condition. The arrival of the elusive Godex puts an illusory
end to the tramps' misery, for man and woman cannot endure without some
tangible rewards for their hope and waiting. Beckett mainly explores the
boredom and despair associated with waiting. He chooses to ignore (do not
forget the irresistible tease of a non-arriving Godot!) that the cessation of
waiting, along with its philosophical implications, is a major prop on life's
stage of sound and fury. Despite Waiting for
Godex being a sequel, it stands on its
own. I do confess that I incorporated some of Beckett's jargon and flirted
with some of his motifs for the sake of continuity, but one need not to be
familiar with Godot in order to enjoy
Godex, as one need not visit
Beckett's tomb in order to appreciate his works. By
writing Waiting for Godex I didn't
intend to measure my dramatic chops against Beckett's. The man is a Goliath,
and taking a cheap shot at David is not my style. Beckett rose from the ashes
of World War II. I rose from the ashes of communism. I do know a few things
about hope and waitingÉ PIPI SISI MISS GODEX POPONET ACT I Riverside. Lamppost, cardboard boxes, rock. Locked cage
(conspicuous lock) containing apple hangs from lamppost. Evening. Squatting
Sisi downstage arranges credit cards in seven groups of four, puts them in
her pockets—the three pockets of her vest and the four pockets of her
pants, gets up, sucks them in a pattern described below. Upstage corner, Pipi
groans and moans, turns, zips up his fly, walks to lamppost, stares at the
apple. PIPI: How's
the sucking? SISI: Bone
dry. PIPI: Definitely
a pastime. SISI: Naughty
days! PIPI: Habit
works in mysterious ways. So does relaxation. SISI: Ha!
Who do you think would suck twenty-eight bone-dry credit cards with a goal
like mine and call it relaxation? PIPI: Do
you see another sucker? SISI: Damn
Pipi, how many times have I told you not to interrupt my oral exercises? PIPI: Why
not? SISI: Because
I lose track of the sucking sequence! Now I canÕt tell whether the Visa IÕve
just sucked is from the back pocket of my pants or from the right pocket of
my vest. PIPI: I'm
quite positive it's the one you keep in your underwear. SISI: It's
for emergencies! PIPI: That's
what you always sayÉ SISI: Don't
bother to enlighten me. I shall start from the very beginning. PIPI: God,
have mercy on me! SISI: As
you know, my goal is to suck twenty-eight credit cards in a successive manner
in which no card should be under-sucked. Over-sucked—yes! But
definitely—not under-sucked! Good. First I equally distribute the
plastic in my seven pockets: the left pocket of my pants, the left pocket of
my vest, the inside pocket of my vest, the right pocket of my vest, the right
pocket of my pants, the right back pocket of my pants, and the left back
pocket of my pants. So here I go. Watch me closely. (Sisi takes credit card from left pocket of her pants,
sucks it, exchanges it with credit card from left pocket of her vest, sucks
it, exchanges it with credit card from inside pocket of her vest, sucks it,
exchanges it with credit card from right pocket of her vest, sucks it,
exchanges it with credit card from right pocket of her pants, sucks it, exchanges
it with credit card from right back pocket of her pants, sucks itÉ) SISI: And
here I am completing the first cycle as soon as I finish sucking the Diners'
Club International from the left back pocket of my pants. Done it! You follow
me? No? You're missing out. Where was I? Ah! To avoid sucking the same cards
over and over, I shuffle them in my pockets. But is that enough? PIPI: YES! SISI: That's
what I said to myself at the very beginning, but after a close investigation
of the matter, I realized that thanks to Murphy's Law I could very well have
sucked the same cards over and over. And the illumination of transferring the
plastic four by four instead one by one sang within my pineal gland like a
verse of Isaiah, or of Jeremiah, or of Elvis the Pelvis. So here I go. Watch
me closely. PIPI: I'm
tired. SISI: I
begin first with the left pocket of my trousers. Number one. I suck it!
Number two. I suck it! Number three: I SUCK IT! PIPI: STOP
IT! SISI: Am
I boring you? PIPI: It's
awful! Ever since I stopped crawling IÕve constantly deluded myself, Pipi,
take it easy, you deserve to be happy once in a while. I've exerted myself
like Sisyphus... Lucky for him, he pissed marvelously! I've lived humbly
among the humble, devoid of pride, cash and respect. I even went to the fish
market and sold roses. To no avail! All IÕve ever gotten was misery and a
good dose of... Damn! (Pipi runs upstage corner, holding hands between his
legs. Sisi laughs and sings.) SISI: A
philosopher having quibbled with his wife To a massage parlor proceeds to examine his life. Asked by the madam whose bud heÕd like to pluck He says, "Rumor has it you're a jolly good..." (Pipi returns, zipping up his fly.) PIPI: I
was suffering and you sang your heart out. SISI: (Singing.) A philosopher having quibbled with his wifeÉ PIPI: Stop
it! SISI: The
melancholic truth is: you're a lousy fuck! PIPI: I'M
GOING! SISI: You
can't. PIPI: Why
not? SISI: We're
waiting for Godex. PIPI: Damn! (Silence.) SISI: Is
Godex a serious person? PIPI: Absolutely...
Possible... Well, nobody's perfect. Why? SISI: The
way he keeps his appointments. PIPI: Perhaps
he comes from a foreign country. SISI: Legal
alien? PIPI: I
wouldn't be surprised. SISI: What
the hell is he doing here? PIPI: How
do I know? They say he talks in parables. SISI: I
HATE PARABLES! (Silence. Sisi grows restless.) SISI: Say
something! Talk to me! Make me feel I give a damn! PIPI: Esse
est percipi. SISI: I
beg your pardon? PIPI: I'm
waiting for you to come up with something better. SISI: Better
than what? PIPI: Than
sucking bone-dry credit cards, fat lips! (Sisi throws her credit cards in PipiÕs face. Pause.) SISI: (Inspired) Let's feel sorry for ourselves! PIPI: You
first. SISI: After
you. PIPI: Why
me? SISI: I
was the enlightened one. PIPI: I
see... We lie in the sunshine, but how terribly cold it is! SISI: We
could never find solid ground to crawl on. PIPI: We've
been punished by our virtues. SISI: We've
been strengthened by our vices. PIPI: We've
been jumping from one side to another. SISI: (As
a revelation.) I've been seduced and
reduced! PIPI: IÕve
been softened in the head from jerking off visions! SISI: If
only you could tell the direction the wind was blowing. You'd no longer
sprinkle your pants. PIPI: If
only I could savoir-vivre. SISI: Savoir-faire. PIPI: Savoir-vivre! SISI: Whatever.
(Silence.) SISI: What
do we do now? PIPI: (Dancing.)
Feel. SISI: Is
it fun? PIPI: I
read some place that feeling is a nimble dancer. Come join me. Great thoughts
will come. SISI: No
wonder Nijinsky went mad. (Joining Pipi.)
It'll kill time. PIPI: Don't
breathe in my face. You stink of cheap booze. SISI: That's
better than nothing. PIPI: Don't
step on my foot! SISI: I'm
not Baryshnikov! (They stop and listen.) PIPI: I
hear strange voices... SISI: Cries
of madness squeal in my ears... PIPI: Words
of suffering... SISI: Abandoned
hope... PIPI: Tumult
that whirls forever... SISI: Through
turbid air... PIPI: Timeless! SISI: Turbid! PIPI: Doom
and gloom all around us... SISI: Dirt
and humbug crawling like lice... PIPI: Exasperation... SISI: Intellectual
castration... PIPI: Listen! SISI: Feel
it! PIPI: I
see the dreary swamp... It's over! SISI: No! PIPI: The
ferryman waves... SISI: What
for? PIPI: To
take us across for two bucks a head. SISI: (Producing
a credit card.) Does he take plastic? PIPI: Never!
He'll throw us into the filthy swamp. SISI: What
about Godex? PIPI: What
about him? SISI: Where
does he come in? PIPI: How
do I know? He'll tell us when he gets here. SISI: What
about us? PIPI: Do
we have to go through this again? SISI: No
change? PIPI: Change!?
We've traded our evenings for his... this and that and God knows what... and
she wants change! (Silence.) SISI: IÕm
hungry. Give me an orange. (Pipi takes a lemon from pocket and throws it to Sisi.) SISI:
It's a lemon! PIPI: Then
I must be out of oranges. Suck the lemon. It oozes with Vitamin C. SISI: (Throwing
the lemon back.) It's too sour. PIPI: (Sucking
the lemon.) The Savior never complained. SISI: Complained
of what? PIPI: (Grimacing.) Taste, fool. SISI:
Maybe he liked lemons. I don't! PIPI: They
gave him vinegar, atheist! SISI: Don't
compare me with Christ! (Pause. Sisi rummages thorough the cardboard boxes,
discovers a bitten-off cookie.) SISI: Got
milk? PIPI: That's
not funny! (Grabs the cookie and stamps on it.) It's copyrighted material. (Sisi approaches the cage and pulls the lock.) SISI: Pipi,
I want the apple! Help me open the bloody cage! PIPI: Out
of the question! Haven't we suffered enough for that Goddamn apple? Anything
you like, Sisi, but not the apple! (Sisi subsides. Pause.) SISI: How
long till Christmas? PIPI: Too
long. SISI: So
much waiting for a decent mealÉ (Daydreaming.) Wow, what a thingamajig! I'll take white meat... with extra gravy! (Sucking
her fingers.) Can I have the whole
shebang once more? PIPI: Wake
up! SISI: You
never let me daydream! PIPI: You
make me hungry! Just have a little bit more patience—till he comes. SISI: Who? PIPI: Godex.
Then our evening is going to be just fabulous. HeÕll check us into a
penthouse, buy us designer's clothes, wine and dine us at a five-star
restaurant, treats us to a Broadway show—Les Miserables most likely. He'll definitely give us the time of
our life! SISI: You
lie so beautifully... Pipi, I can't go on like this. PIPI: True.
Waiting has undermined us. SISI: My mother... dust to dust... used
to cry a lot. I forget why... But I remember the sky was much bluer, the
grass greener, the nightingales' song sweeter... PIPI: All
dead and buried. Time has no soul. SISI: And
neither do we. (Pause.) SISI: Pipi,
let's drown ourselves. PIPI: How? SISI: Let's
jump into the river. PIPI: The
water's too cold. We'll catch our death. SISI: What
about tying the biggest rock we can manage around our necks? It's quicker. PIPI: The
quick and the dead... Where's the rope? SISI: HavenÕt
you got any in your pockets? PIPI: Not
even for a post-minimal sculpture. SISI: Then
we canÕt. (Sisi sights the end of a rope sticking out from under
the cardboard boxes, pulls the rope out.) SISI: WeÕre
saved! HereÕs the rope. (Sisi ties the rope to the rock.) PIPI: On
the other hand it might be better to exhaust the limits of the possible
first. SISI: We've
exhausted everything! PIPI: It's
not certain. SISI: Pipi,
let's jump. PIPI: We
can't. SISI: Why
not? PIPI: We're
waiting for Godex. SISI: Damn!
What if he doesn't come? PIPI: WeÕve
been told he'll come for sure this evening. SISI: WHAT
IF HE DOESN'T COME? PIPI: Then...
Wait! Let me think... We'll drown ourselves! That's exactly what we'll do. SISI: Promise? PIPI: Upon
my word of honor. (Silence. Sisi becomes restless.) SISI: Let's
do something! PIPI: Any
idea in particular? SISI: can't think of anything. PIPI: That
doesnÕt surprise me. SISI: Can't
you help me? PIPI: We
can dance. SISI: Can't
you come up with something without having to sweat for it? PIPI: You're
lazy. SISI: Is
that bad? PIPI: It's
debatable. SISI: That's
the idea. Let's debate. PIPI: That
will take forever. We don't have the luxury. SISI: Then
let's talk about this and that, nothing in particular. PIPI: We've
been doing that for years. SISI: True.
Let's try something more specific. PIPI: Something
with a topic? SISI: Yes!
PIPI: Something
with a message clear enough to make us eligible for a job with Western Union? SISI: Yes!
We can always use the dough. PIPI: Something
with a how-to formula that we can apply every time we're in need of killing
time. SISI: That's
the idea! Something we can remember easily. PIPI: I
can't think of anything. SISI: Life's
drastic without plastic. How's that? (Noises offstage.) PIPI: Pst!
SomeoneÕs coming! Godex at last! Our waiting is over! (Enter Miss.) MISS: Mr.
K.? PIPI: You
again! SISI: YouÕre
late! Why are you always late? MISS: I didnÕt
notice, Mrs. K. SISI: Does
time mean anything to you? MISS: I
don't know, Mrs. K. PIPI: Does
anything mean anything to you? MISS: I don't know,
Mr. K. SISI: What the hell do you know? MISS: I
know how to mind horses, Mrs. K. SISI: A
cowboy! That's all we need! PIPI: Leave
him alone. (To Miss.) Come boy, donÕt
be afraid. MISS: (Unzipping
her jacket.) IÕm not a boy, Mr. K. PIPI: SheÕs
not a boy. SISI: She
could be a hermaphrodite for all I care! PIPI: (To
Miss.) So, you're a miss minding the
horses. Since when have you been minding the horses? MISS: Ever
since I can remember, Mr. K. PIPI: Are
you sure you didn't mind the goats? MISS: No,
Mr. K. PIPI: How's
your brother? Did he ever mind the sheep? MISS: Never,
Mr. K. PIPI: What
does he mind? MISS: He
used to mind the mules. PIPI: Go
on. MISS: He's
dead, Mr. K. SISI: Dead?
What do you mean dead? (Miss ignores her, inspects the cage.) PIPI: When
did it happen? MISS: This
morning, Mr. K. PIPI: Was
he sick? MISS: No,
Mrs. K. PIPI: Did
he have an accident? MISS: Mr.
Godex stoned him to death. PIPI: Godex!? SISI: Let's
go! PIPI: Why
did Godex do such a thing to your brother? Answer me! MISS: I don't know,
Mr. K. PIPI: Perhaps
he had a reason... a very solid reason! MISS: I
don't know, Mr. K. PIPI: Did
he lose a mule? MISS: No,
Mr. K. PIPI: Did
Godex say anything to you? MISS: He
said that heÕs very fond of me and gave me one of his best horses as a
present. PIPI: Why
did he do such thing? MISS: I don't know,
Mr. K. PIPI: Did
you mind the horses better than your brother minded the mules? MISS: No,
Mr. K. PIPI: Did
you ever lose a horse? MISS: Many,
Mr. K. One this morning. PIPI: And
Godex told you that heÕs very fond of you and gave you one of his best horses
as a present? MISS: Yes,
Mr. K. SISI: Pipi,
let's go! MISS: Mr.
K.? PIPI: Yes? MISS: I
have a message from Mr. Godex. SISI: Of
course you have a message from Mr. Godex. He canÕt make it this evening but
surely tomorrow. MISS: No,
Mrs. K. Mr. Godex won't come tomorrow. SISI: That's
fine with me. I need a vacation. PIPI: What
about the day after tomorrow? SISI: Just
in case heÕs busy stoning you to death the day after tomorrow, what about the
day after the day after tomorrow? What about Christmas? MISS: None
of these days, Mrs. K. PIPI: But
when? WHEN? MISS: This
evening, Mr. K. SISI: God,
have mercy on us! Let's go! PIPI: We
can't. SISI: Why
not? PIPI: We're
waiting for Godex! SISI: To
hell with him! Can't you see what he's done to her brother? PIPI: (To
Miss.) Are you sure he said this evening? MISS: Yes,
Mr. K. PIPI: What
exactly did he say? MISS: He
said go tell Mr. K. and his companion that I'll see them this evening at
sunset. (Pipi and Sisi look upstage. The stage is flooded in
red light.) SISI: It's
sunset already! MISS: I
must go. Good-luck, Mr. K.! PIPI: What
makes you say that? (Miss exits. Pipi runs after her.) PIPI: What
makes you wish me good-luck? (Coming back.) She's gone. SISI: Pipi,
let's go. I'm scared. PIPI: Scared
of who? Godex? SISI: Yes! PIPI: Don't
be a fool. He has no reason whatsoever to harm us. SISI: He
had no reason whatsoever to kill her brother! PIPI: To
hell with her brother! We have an appointment here. We've been waiting
evening after evening, until nightfall, for Godex to come, lost hope, found
rope, came very close to using it, and now Godex comes and you want to run
away! Are you mad? SISI: We'll
come back tomorrow evening. PIPI: But
he's coming this evening! SISI: We'll
leave him a note saying that we were nabbed for trespassing just after we got
his message. PIPI: Impossible! (Pipi walks to and fro, stops.) PIPI: Do
you think he'll believe us? SISI: Absolutely! PIPI: I'm
beginning to think... after the latest developments... (Looking at the
sunset.) Looks like it's gonna light up
the earth... SISI: Who? PIPI: The
sun. SISI: It's
not. PIPI: I'm
beginning to come to the conclusion that Godex is not in a reliable mood this
evening. The stress of the day might have affected him in some way or
another, and... SISI: We
can't take any chances. Let's go. PIPI: I
mean as long as there is Godex, there is always hope. SISI: Wonderful,
wonderful reasoning. Let's go. Waiting is safer. PIPI: True.
The note! SISI: We
forgot to write it! (Enter Godex, middle age, wearing an impeccable dark
suit and carrying a laptop computer. The theme from Strauss' Thus Spake Zarathustra accompanies him.
Pipi and Sisi freeze. Godex silences the music by pushing a button on his
laptop.) SISI: Is
he the one? PIPI: The
way he looks... not at all... SISI: I
wonder who he is. PIPI: Ask
him. (Godex advances toward them. They take a step back.) |