For en feberdrøm av et stykke

This phrase seems to carry a sense of a feverish dream of a piece. It might imply a vivid, perhaps somewhat chaotic or intense mental image or aspiration. It could be that someone is imagining a particular object, a scene, or an experience with a kind of passionate and almost delirious quality. The "fever dream" aspect suggests that it is not a rational or ordinary thought, but rather something that is born out of a state of excitement, longing, or even a bit of madness. It makes one wonder what exactly this "stykke" is that is being dreamed about. Is it a precious possession, a moment of great significance, or something entirely abstract and intangible? The phrase leaves a lot of room for interpretation and imagination, inviting the reader to explore the possible meanings and emotions that lie behind it.

A powerful and contemporary show. A master and a servant who are the last remaining members of the human race. Two people who are condemned to each other in their final days. Two people who, although they were together years ago, do not even have the ability to establish the tiniest human connection. Isn't it familiar? In some ways, it's the story of our days.

Actually, I'm not a very good script reader. Because until I read the scriptwriter's explanations about the actors' reactions and the stage design, the string of words in the dialogues slips out of my hand and I always have to go back and read that part from the beginning, especially in ping-pong dialogues. But these days, I found a good way to read large scripts. Most of these shows have a cinematic or television theater version that is on YouTube. Samuel Beckett's entire work has been played under the title of the project "Beckett on Film", and most of them can be found on YouTube. I finally read the play with the help of this version. I put it to play like this and had one eye on the monitor and one eye on the script text. This method worked. I'm putting the YouTube link of this show below. Professor Dumbledore didn't miss Harry Potter in the role of Ham

:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ok7Vc...

Written shortly after World War II (around the same time or a little later than "Waiting for Godot"), "Endgame" takes place in a kind of bunker, surrounded by a devastated science-fiction landscape. The four remaining characters are moribund or ailing survivors: Hamm is in a wheelchair, Clov is barely more capable, and Nagg and Nell live in a dustbin-coffin (foreshadowing the burial in "Happy Days"). Their story and the reasons for their presence here, although hinted at, remain mysterious.

Despite the meanness of the characters and the violence of the relationships that play out between them, the dialogues are delicious and, very often, funny; sometimes even moving. As is often the case in Beckett's writing, the stage directions and pantomime are omnipresent.

The play explores themes such as the meaninglessness of life, the inevitability of death, and the human condition in a post-apocalyptic world. Beckett uses his unique style and language to create a world that is both absurd and deeply poignant. "Endgame" is a masterful work of theater that continues to be studied and performed today.

If my internal monologue during a manic episode was written on paper, it would be a chaotic and frenzied mess.

Thoughts would race through my mind at an alarming pace, one after another, without any clear direction or coherence.

I might find myself jumping from one idea to another, unable to focus on any single thought for more than a few seconds.

Emotions would run high, with excitement, euphoria, and sometimes even irritability and aggression.

The words on the paper would seem to dance and swirl, reflecting the turmoil and unrest within my mind.

It would be a vivid and intense portrayal of the inner workings of my mind during a manic episode, a glimpse into a world that is both thrilling and overwhelming.

However, it would also serve as a reminder of the importance of managing my mental health and seeking the support and treatment I need to keep these episodes in check.

The appearance in print seems rather unappealing.

Perhaps when presented on the stage, it serves its purpose as some sort of strange entertainment.

The content is emblematic in a way, but I can't help but compare it to Lewis Carroll's work in terms of its overenthusiastic use of randomness, meaninglessness, and senseless un-seriousness.

This makes me believe that the play is essentially an experiment that is completely useless.

It's as if the author is trying to create something unique and avant-garde, but in the end, it just falls flat.

Maybe there are some who would appreciate this kind of offbeat and chaotic style, but for me, it fails to engage or offer any real value.

It leaves me wondering what the point of it all is and whether it was really worth the effort to produce.

Overall, I'm not impressed with this play and would not recommend it to others.

In this powerful work, we are presented with a minimalist yet profound scene. There are only 4 characters, a room, a chair, and 2 barrels. The setting is a post-apocalyptic world where the absolute nothingness, the senselessness and absurdity of life, are on full display.

The room serves as a claustrophobic refuge. With two extremely high windows that can only be reached by a ladder, it is the sole point of contact with the outside. Beyond those windows, the landscape is devoid of life, and even day and night have disappeared, everything is immersed in an eternal gray. Humanity has become extinct, and perhaps it is for the best. One day, a shadow is seen on the horizon, and the thought that it might be a child fills them with terror, for there must be no more possibility of regeneration.

Clov, the assistant, is almost a servant, tyrannized by the one he assists. He dreams of fleeing, abandoning the room, and being free. But freedom scares him. The idea of leaving the room and facing a hostile world is terrifying.

Nagg and Nell are the parents. Once, they were happy, that April afternoon on the boat on Lake Como. But then life literally cut off their legs. Their son, a nuisance since childhood, has now stuffed them into two garbage barrels to await the end.

Hamm, the master and son, is the dominant figure, the one who must stand precisely in the center of the scene/room. Unable to walk anymore, blind, and bleeding, he plays his final game, furiously attacking everything and everyone without interruption, in a desperate attempt not to be checkmated by life.

  Clov (fixed gaze, pale voice). It's over, it's over, it's about to end, perhaps it's about to end. (Pause). The grains are added to the grains one by one, and one day, suddenly, there's the heap, a small heap, the impossible heap. (Pause)

  Hamm. I knew a madman who believed the end of the world had already come. He painted. I liked him. I would go to visit him, in the asylum. I would take his hand and pull him in front of the window. But look! There. All that wheat growing! And there! Look! The sails of the fishing boats! All this beauty! (Pause). He would free his hand and go back to his corner. Frightened. He had only seen ashes. (Pause). He alone had survived. (Pause). Forgotten. (Pause). It seems that such cases are not... were not so... so rare.

I understood it. Maybe it was because of listening to its voice, although if I didn't read the final criticism of the book "Waiting for Godot", I wouldn't have noticed it...

Maybe understanding Beckett's works requires experience and expertise...

It seems that Beckett's works are not easy to understand at first glance. The play "Waiting for Godot" is a prime example. Through listening to it, I began to have a glimmer of understanding. However, it wasn't until I delved deeper into the final criticism of the book that I truly grasped some of its subtleties.

This makes me realize that to truly understand Beckett's works, one needs more than just a casual reading. It requires a certain level of experience and expertise in literature and drama. Only then can one fully appreciate the depth and complexity of his works.

I look forward to further exploring Beckett's works and continuing to expand my understanding of his unique literary style.

Oh, the beautiful bird, leave your cage.

Fly towards my beloved.

Whisper in her clothes.

Tell her how sad I am.

.

You are on the ground and there is no cure for that.

.

"The End of the Game", the second part of the play "Waiting for Judo", talks about the relationships of the dead with the dead. Its characters are strange, created from death, extinction, and filth. Their smiles, sighs, longings, and desires for weakness, isolation, fragmentation, and misfortune are strange. There is no one to console, no one to save, neither from here nor from there.

.

A beautiful play.

Not only is it one of Beckett's but also one of all theatre's highest points. The Theatre of Absurdity is presented, much like cooking fat (hey, I don't really know; I've not eaten meat since 1991), stripped down to its essentialist core. Hamm and Clov, like a hammer and a nail, have always managed to both delight and repulse me. It's a handy trick for two ciphers representing all of us humans.

There simply aren't words to fully express my soul's (for lack of a better word) love and adoration for Sam. He and Pynchon will forever be my north and south poles, the axes that have kept me revolving, albeit sometimes flailing, for 47 turns around the sun. The older I grow, the more I am irresistibly drawn to Sam's arctic windlands.

Bikeet discovered everything. Of course, in the void.

The world is in synchronous fall.

There is no need to go far, this is the place,

It is filled with all this excitement.

Think about things and you will see how everything becomes clear.

Everything ends.

Do you think you will never leave and nothing will end?

One day, things will end.

You tell yourself that the earth has gone out

Even though you have never seen it lit up.

Play, lose, and end this loss.

Time passes and it ends, and the story will be completed.

This is the situation of the earth. You keep it.

_ The whole house reeks of the smell of a corpse.

_ The whole world.

_ What is happening, what is happening.

_ Something is looking for its way.

_ What is the importance?

_ Why do you stay with me?

_ Why do you keep me?

_ I woke you up right away.

_ And if it is?

Decrepitude at its wisest.

It is a state that many may view with disdain or pity, but in reality, decrepitude can hold a profound wisdom.

As the body ages and shows signs of wear and tear, the mind often gains a deeper understanding of life.

Those who have reached the stage of decrepitude have witnessed the passage of time, endured hardships, and learned valuable lessons.

Their wisdom is not born of youth and vigor but of experience and reflection.

They may move more slowly, their bodies may be frail, but their minds are sharp and their insights are profound.

Decrepitude at its wisest teaches us to look beyond the physical appearance and appreciate the wealth of knowledge and wisdom that lies within.

It reminds us that age is not a barrier to learning and growing, but rather an opportunity to gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

We should respect and honor the wisdom that comes with decrepitude, for it is a precious gift that can enrich our lives.

After reading Beckett's first book "Waiting for Godot", I encountered this example of absurd theater for the first time, and it seemed very different. Immediately, I jumped to Beckett's other work "Endgame" and read it with the same pleasure. The book is a great treasure for those who like to solve puzzles. The fact that the eighty-page play has eight hundred pages of commentary shows how Beckett creates his works with a concentrated language. To understand the allusions and metaphors in the book, one must master every kind of philosophy, such as theological, nihilist, psychoanalytic, Marxist, and existential. There is no need for artistic speculation here. Even after reading the commentaries, I still didn't understand most of them :) I understood "Waiting for Godot" better, or I thought I did. In this book, I felt a big lack in myself. Nevertheless, when reading, it is enjoyable to taste something different and unique. Beckett's timeless and spaceless minimalist narration gives pleasure to the reader.