You are on earth, and there is no cure for that.

As is often the case, whenever I read Samuel Beckett, I find the characters in a state of extreme despair dealing with death with calmness and longing, because they have completely lost hope in life. They feel that these characters are so desperate that they don't know what to do except wait for the fate that Beckett will impose on them after his excessive nihilism.

As usual, Beckett considers existence to be a sin, the end, and everything after that is in vain.

Thank you, Beckett, because you have shown us in this life a vanity that resembles reality.

"Oh, beautiful bird, leave your cage and fly towards my beloved, whispering in her clothes, tell her how sad I am..."

#Beckett #TheEndOfTheGame

Order is something that I hold dear. It is not just a preference but my dream. I envision a world where everything is in a state of perfect order.

"I love order. It's my dream. A world where all would be silent and still and each thing in its last place, under the last dust."

In this ideal world, there would be no chaos, no randomness. Every object would have its designated position, and it would remain there, undisturbed. The stillness would be profound, broken only by the softest of whispers or the gentle rustle of the wind.

This love for order stems from a desire for stability and predictability. In an ordered world, one knows what to expect, and there are no surprises or uncertainties to disrupt the peace. It is a world where one can find solace and安宁, away from the hustle and bustle of the real world.

While this dream of a perfectly ordered world may seem utopian, it serves as a guiding principle for me. It reminds me to strive for order in my own life, to organize my thoughts, my possessions, and my actions. It is a constant reminder that in the midst of chaos, there is always the possibility of creating order.

Ham: In my house. One day you will become blind like me. There you will shine, exactly at a point in the void, in the darkness, forever, like me. One day you will say to yourself that you are tired. You want to sit down, then you go and shine. Then you say, I'm hungry, I stand up and bring something to eat. But you don't stand up and you don't bring anything to eat. You look at the wall a little, then you say, I shouldn't have sat down, I shine a little more, then I stand up and bring something to eat. But you don't stand up and you don't bring anything to eat. You look at the wall a little, then you say I close my eyes, maybe I'll sleep a little, then my condition will be better, then you put them down. Then when you open them again there is no more wall... The endless void surrounds you. Even all the heroes if they are alive cannot fill that void, and there you are like a grain of sand in the desert...

Yes, one day you will understand what it is, you will become like me, except that there is nothing with you, because you have not shown mercy to anyone and because there is no one for you to show mercy to.

- Samuel Beckett - Endgame

Samuel Beckett is renowned for his unique and thought-provoking works, and one of his most famous and best plays is truly a masterpiece.

Hamm and Clov form an unforgettable pair. Hamm, a miserable soul, is confined to his chair, resigned to his fate, and passively waiting for death, which seems to be taking its sweet time. Yet, instead of succumbing to despair, they continue to engage in this game of life, following their daily routines, talking to each other, and pretending to care.

Clov, on the other hand, is Hamm's patient caretaker, with the patience of a saint. Despite the occasional emotional outburst or tantrum, which is understandable given the circumstances, he remains by Hamm's side.

Nagg and Nell, Hamm's parents, make sporadic appearances out of their trash bins, much like Oscar from Sesame Street. Their presence adds an element of absurdity to the already strange and bleak play.

This play is indeed very weird, bleak, and forlorn. Critics were initially not pleased with the overwhelming sense of helplessness it conveys. However, Beckett's trademark humour saves the day, preventing the play from being impossibly dark. In fact, the humour elevates the play from the realm of Nietzschean nihilism and firmly plants it in the field of art. Beckett once again challenges and mocks the 'meaning' of life, highlighting its pointlessness and meaninglessness, especially in old age when everything has been experienced and lost.

Overall, this is a very interesting play that can be read in a single sitting. I thoroughly enjoyed it, perhaps even more than Waiting for Godot, as it had a certain comical charm that gave me a good laugh. I would rate it 4 stars.

The writings of Beckett are repetitive confessions and blatant manifestations that there is nothing left for them but a language (and perhaps only at certain times) with which they play.

- Yesterday! What do you mean? Yesterday!

+ (angrily) I mean that damned disgraceful day, a very long time ago, before this damned disgraceful day.

I am in love with the old questions (passionately).

Ah, the old questions, the old answers, there is nothing like them!

Beckett's works often explore themes of meaninglessness, repetition, and the human condition. His characters are often trapped in a cycle of futility, constantly asking the same questions and receiving no satisfactory answers. The use of dialogue in this passage highlights the characters' frustration and confusion. The exclamations and angry tone add to the sense of urgency and emotion. Overall, Beckett's writing style is unique and thought-provoking, challenging readers to question their own assumptions about life and language.

It is already far too late in the day, and there seems to be no glimmer of hope remaining.

“Isn't it time for my pain-killer? Yes. Ah! At last! Give it to me! Quick! There's no more pain-killer.”

Life has reached its final moments, and all that is left are the sad memories and the despondent loneliness. It is as if the entire world is also on the verge of dying.

Samuel Beckett is truly inimitable. When it comes to the realm of absurdity, no one can surpass him. His works often explore the depths of human existence, the meaninglessness of life, and the inevitability of suffering.

Beckett's plays and novels are filled with characters who are trapped in their own worlds, unable to break free from the cycle of pain and despair.

Yet, through his unique style and use of language, Beckett manages to create a sense of beauty and poetry in the midst of the chaos.

His works continue to inspire and challenge audiences around the world, making him one of the most important and influential writers of the 20th century.

I say to myself that the earth has become silent, although I have never seen it light up.

From the website of "Critique of the Day": (Really, such a play needs analysis and details of "Beckett", and I am only presenting part of the critique.)

The characters in Beckett's plays strive to achieve complete freedom, but they do not have the ability to fulfill this desire. They are seemingly free, but in fact, they are victims of their own history. Although they are not satisfied with the conditions in which they live, they have no other choice.

For Beckett, man is conditionally free. His characters are always in an unknown place, seeking meaning in meaninglessness, with a past that they only remember a part of.

Style: Absurd/Grotesque (a work mixed with bitter satire and the absurdity of the precarious position of modern man).

Themes: Slavery, exploitation and commodification, poverty, death and the end of the game of life, loneliness and the inability to establish communication with others or even find the means of communication, repetition and routine...

Type of conflict: Man against man/Man against society (the ham is a symbol of the exploitative shell of society and the claw is a symbol of the oppressed shell of society)

The end of Beckett's game is like a play waiting for Godot! Waiting for nothingness and death.

Sometimes I find myself wondering if I'm truly in my right senses.

This thought often creeps in during moments of self-reflection or when faced with difficult decisions.

I question whether my mind is functioning at its optimal level, if I'm making rational choices, and if I'm seeing the world clearly.

However, these bouts of self-doubt usually pass off quickly.

Soon enough, I regain my confidence and feel as intelligent as ever.

I realize that these moments of uncertainty are just a part of being human.

We all have our off days, but it's important to not let them define us.

Instead, we should embrace these experiences as opportunities for growth and learning.

By doing so, we can become more resilient and better equipped to handle the challenges that come our way.

In the end, I know that my intelligence and capabilities are not determined by a single moment of doubt, but by my consistent efforts and determination to succeed.

Beckett's plays are truly strange, yet this strangeness is essential to capturing the odd, mystical, and untouchable aspects of reality.

Good literature, especially the very best, makes us think and imagine. When we read, we impose our own interpretations on the text. The answers are not handed to us; we must seek them if they are indeed meant to be found. Beckett gives us very little to work with. I have some ideas about what his plays might represent, but the point is that they could resemble a great many things. It's not clear, like looking through a murky glass at a world that could be ours or not. With "Endgame," it's up to the reader to decide.

Based on the important quote, "All life long, the same questions, the same answers," I've decided three things.

First, the world is evil. Hamm dreams of sleep and freedom in nature, but the reality he faces is depressing. The world is not kind or good, and it leaves us dissatisfied and unfulfilled.

Second, the old world is dead. Naggs and Nell, the older generation, are symbolically kept in trash bins, representing the death of the old ways and values as we enter the modern world.

Finally, the new world isn't any better because life is absurd. Nothing really changes, and there is no meaning to be found. Hamm and Clov will never amount to anything, and thinking otherwise is a delusion.

Pessimism, hopelessness, and desperation ooze from the play's sad words. As it progresses, it gets greyer and more depressing. The old world may be dead, but the new one has no purpose.

Beckett would probably tell me to throw myself into the sea if he read my decisions, but his words were written to provoke a response. He was a comical genius, and his words are some of the cleverest ever written.

The title is derived from that particular stage in chess where there are only a few pieces remaining, making it impossible to mate your opponent. This is the second play by Samuel Beckett that I have read. It still very much resembled "Waiting for Godot" (3 stars) with its absurdity, strangeness, and at times, senselessness. I have been delving into the works of Samuel Beckett, so I am accustomed to his style, and as a result, I still liked this play of his.

However, unlike "Godot," I felt compelled to read the existing reviews of my friends here on Goodreads as I desired to obtain other people's interpretations of the play. There is one theory, which Beckett denied, suggesting that the setting is post-nuclear war, and I find myself inclined to agree. Perhaps Hamm cannot stand up because he and his legless parents, Nell and Nagg, have been crippled by radiation? But what about Clov? Can he stand? At some point during my reading, my romantic side wanted to believe that this was about friendship, similar to Vladimir and Estragon in "Godot," but here Hamm is constantly critical of Clov, as if the latter is the former's slave or inferior. Nevertheless, they complement each other as Hamm cannot stand and Clov cannot sit. I have not witnessed this play on stage, so I cannot envision it, but if I attempt to do so, the post-nuclear war scenario does come to my mind.

Fueling this perception are the references to there being nothing outside the house and the legless parents living in a dustbin.

I hope to see this play performed on stage someday.

Grinnell College had a creative arts requirement, and I met it by taking Theatre in my freshman year.

Our instructor was a late middle-aged alcoholic, and his attitude towards teaching ranged from apathy to enthusiasm.

The former was clearly demonstrated when he assigned Beckett's 'Endgame'. This play, with its complex themes and minimalist style, might have seemed a daunting task for many students.

However, his enthusiasm was vividly shown by his production of the entirety of Goethe's 'Faust'. This ambitious undertaking required a great deal of effort and dedication from both the instructor and the students.

Despite his alcoholism, the instructor managed to bring out the best in his students and create a memorable theatre experience. His unique teaching style and passion for the arts made a lasting impression on me and influenced my love for theatre.

Overall, my experience in the Theatre course at Grinnell College was both challenging and rewarding, and I am grateful for the opportunity to have studied under such an interesting and talented instructor.

My dear book,

How did you write such things?

How did this amount of absurdity reach your mind?

How did you have ideas that had no volume?

It's truly a mystery to me. The words you contain seem to come from a place beyond my comprehension. Each sentence is like a puzzle piece that I struggle to fit into the bigger picture. I wonder what kind of inspiration or thought process led you to create such a unique and perhaps even baffling work. Maybe there are hidden depths within you that I haven't yet discovered. I'll keep exploring, hoping to unlock the secrets that lie within your pages.