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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 can’t 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 waiting… 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 can’t tell whether the Visa I’ve 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 say… 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 it…) 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 I’ve 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 I’ve 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 he’d 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 wife… 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 Pipi’s 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: I’ve 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: I’m 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 meal… (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. He’ll 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: Haven’t you got any in your pockets? PIPI: Not even for a post-minimal sculpture. SISI: Then we can’t. (Sisi sights the end of a rope sticking out from under the cardboard boxes, pulls the rope out.) SISI: We’re saved! Here’s 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: We’ve 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 doesn’t 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! Someone’s coming! Godex at last! Our waiting is over! (Enter Miss.) MISS: Mr. K.? PIPI: You again! SISI: You’re late! Why are you always late? MISS: I didn’t 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, don’t be afraid. MISS: (Unzipping her jacket.) I’m not a boy, Mr. K. PIPI: She’s 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 he’s 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 he’s 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 can’t 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 he’s 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.)