The Dead Writer’s Almanac: June 30, 2020: A Q&A With Samuel Beckett

by Giles Gallows

GALLOWS

Gentle reader. Tonight, another treat: an interview with the great Irish playwright and novelist, one of the most influential writers of the 20th century, the man who has most shaped theatre for the past few generations, the erudite, elusive, giant of letters, Samuel Beckett.

BECKETT

You forgot the d-word.

GALLOWS

Pardon?

BECKETT

Dead. I am dead. And now that I am dead I am more handsome, too.

(cracks a smile, revealing bad dentistry)

GALLOWS

Yes, I see.

BECKETT

And no need to say I am Irish. I am more French than Irish. But mostly, as I said, I am dead.

GALLOWS

Oh, yes. You wrote in French. You must love the language.

BECKETT

I abhor the language.

GALLOWS

But why did then did you write in French?

BECKETT

(clears his throat for a monologue, leaning into his Zoom window for dramatic effect)

To piss them off, Gallows. (beat) It aroused me immensely — to the point of climax, though I wouldn’t have known — to see their surprise that an Irishman could write in their native tongue far better than the wankers on the faculty of the Sorbonne. They were nonplussed, which the frogs — who are stupid — naturally assumed was a French word. It’s actually from the Latin, adopted by the English in the late 16th century, to describe how a slow-witted person might feel at a moment of confusion so intense he would exclaim, “nonplus!,” “no more.” The French word for this state of intellectual disability is désorienté. According to Google Translate.

GILES

Google Translate? I thought you yourself wrote your work in French, then translated it back into English.

BECKETT

That was when I was alive, Giles. As I have said once too many times — is your mother French? — I am dead.

GALLOWS

Yes, understood.

BECKETT

(clipping his long cemetery grass-stained fingernails)

Dead, dead. Le mort c’est moi. (beat) Translation humor. Wouldn’t expect you to understand.

GALLOWS

But why use Google when you know French so well?

BECKETT

(yawning)

Because, dear fellow, it is so now so much easier to follow my true purpose — mon objectif — as an artist.

GALLOWS

Which is?

BECKETT

To confuse my audiences to the point they say, “no more!” You know, in New York— where Spanish is now the second language because of all the Puerto Ricans who have taken over Broadway — they yell, “no más, no más,” an apparent reference to the preferred form of theater among Hispanics: fighting. West Side Story? Knife fighting. Hamilton? Gun fighting (sotto voce) They are not very refined, these Latin American types in tights.

But I digress. As one of the founders of Google explained to me, one can translate from English into French, and then back into English, then back into French, then back into English “in the time it takes to boot up a Chromebook,” whatever that means. Le temps qu’il faut pour démarrer un Chromebook. (jotting into an obscenely expensive leather notebook. He examines the phrase). That’s pretty good. I will have to use it in my next play. Everything sounds smarter in French.

GALLOWS

So I take it you dislike English-speakers, too?

BECKETT

Gallows, I am an equal opportunity sadist. My work has been translated from French into English and back ad infinitum and then into more than 100 languages. Stripped of all meaning and nuance of character, my plays have been a hit everywhere, though no one can understand them. I heard that a regional theater thought Waiting for Godot was about a cricket match. I did not bother to correct them because they could be right. Truth is, because of the universality of its nothingness, anyone can appreciate the play, even if performed by a troupe of large rabbits.

GALLOWS

You can’t be serious.

BECKETT

Happened once at the farmers market in Sonoma. The rabbits were sensational, and tasty too. (licking his chafed lips)

GALLOWS

Permit me then to ask why you are so opposed to having women — human beings, for God’s sake — act in Godot.

BECKETT

Who said that?

GALLOWS

It came from you, sir! You were famous for it.

BECKETT

That’s when I was alive, Gallows. It was great publicity. But because I am now dead, I no longer need it. I tried explaining this to the morons who administer my estate. “What good is public relations when you need to put cabbage on the table? Collect on the royalties.”

GALLOWS

So you are not opposed to women in Godot?

BECKETT

I am not a bigot, Gallows. As long as the women are not French.