I'm feel I'm 'Waiting for Godot'. Are you?

The plot of Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot is easy to follow. Two tramps are waiting by a lifeless looking tree for the arrival of M. Godot. They quarrel, make up, contemplate suicide, try to sleep, eat a carrot and gnaw on some chicken bones. Two other characters appear, a master and a slave. They perform a grotesque scene in the middle of the play. A young boy arrives to say that M. Godot will not come today, but that he will come tomorrow. Godot does not come and the two tramps continue their vigil by the tree, which between the first and second day has sprouted a few leaves, symbolic of what we do not know.

The language of the play has a plain spoken, consise, intensity... not unlike the writers on DU or countless other message boards. The play makes its own comment on man's hope and on the insignificance of man.

Or so they say.

The waiting for "Godot" is never over. Somehow it is carried over to each new day. Each day in the play is the return to the beginning. Nothing is completed because nothing can be completed. Not unlike our Congress today.

If you are like me, you feel despair during the play, "Waiting for Godot" because the 'waiting' is felt as a suspended lack of action, like being hung up in mid air, falling but never really going anywhere. Sometimes you're not even sure there will be an ending to the play itself. Two tramps cannot not wait for Godot, and Godot, cannot come. If there is to be a resolve, it is always in the future, seldom in the present. Never in the past as there is no past in the play.

In Waiting for Godot, the absurdity of the human race is permanent. Lucky is held on a leash by Pozzo who carries a heavy suitcase without ever thinking of dropping it as Lucky is able to utter his long incoherent speech only when he has his hat on and when Pozzo commands him to think.

Lot going on for four characters sitting beneathe a tree. Sound like us? Even a little?

In the play, one wonders if the author created a medieval debate between the body and the soul, between the rational or the irrational in man. The most talked about interpretation of Godot is that he is God and that the tree reflects the Tree of Knowledge and the Cross.

Um...maybe.

To the spiritually inclined, the life of the tramps at many points in the text seems synonymous with the sinful or fallen state of man. Two partners married to the same purpose, waiting.... waiting, undecided, who cannot exit and who also cannot abandon all hope...

But I wonder if it matters who they are.

What I wonder is where is our tree of knowledge? What engine in the US is waiting for us to fire it up? As both masters and slaves, do we speak so unintelligently to one another as to make our communication totally fruitless? Why can't we bring about Godot?

Who among us can enlighten us to find and retain meaning in view of the contrary contemporary problems we have?

The other day I'm driving listening to the report of the newest archaelogical finds about humanoids and that we began our "waiting" 6 million years ago. I'm parked behind a schoolbus of kids getting off and reflecting that these children are the ancestors of life forms that began 6 million years ago.

Wow, I said to myself...that's cool.

Then one boy who didn't like my car or something impromptu flipped me the bird as he crossed the street.

Permanent absurdity, we are indeed.

/Stallone version

what is the one thing that all cultures come together to despise? and why?
start looking there >:]

the future belongs not to those for whom the reptile brain serve as thought.

...and furtively eyeing that tree every now and then.

Loved your summary, by the way. :thumbsup:

I always enjoy reflective posts which include some literary references, some pragmatic content, and some historical perspective. Occasionally I try these myself and apreciate exactly where you're ocming from.

My life more resembles Groundhog Day...but I've incorporated Camus' Myth of Sisyphus. As you may or may not be aware from other posts, I'm a dentist, and the days resemble life in the military, hours of relative boredom with minutes of abject terror, but Sisyphus comes to mind while I'm waiting for cement to set or filling to harden up, or even a patient to rinse or come back from the rest room, I reflect at that time and philosophise to myself. Occasionally I get a break to look at DU during the day and that's also Time off the Cross, as it were.

Keep up the good work....

PC

Altho' I've always wondered how dentists feel about watching so many people spit day in and day out.

in the office means anything. I look in people's mouths all day, smell their breath, watch them spit, bleed, and dribble and I don't think twice about it. I hate when people are in pain and work hard at changing that quickly - that's meaningful to me.

It's actually a fairly interesting profession in its own right...but I could go on and on...

no one used anesthesia. My son's did not have any cavities until about age 17 or so when their braces came off. Each at the time had a small cavity or two that needed filling. Oh boy were they unhappy when they had to have a filling and that was with the new and improved methods.

Myself, I work in the mental health end of things. So I view pathology with the same attitude you may view your "work". I don't think twice about mental illness. Its just an awareness of the blueprint of people's mental strengths or weaknesses. But sometimes I know that clients need to be in pain before they will seriously address their issues.

Clinical expertise requires a certain level of calm and routine. I love when people say, it mst be exciting or it's not worth doing.

Neither your patients/clients nor mine want us to be amazed/stumped at their affliction.

Love these multi-person dialogues here at DU.. :grouphug:

Sorry, pretty corny, but whattyawant?

when they tell me something. The more skittish they are the bigger the build up. But, after 20 some years, I'm not too surprised anymore. Interested, yes. Shocked, no.

Then its a fine line between making them feel special for having the "worst" story and handling their inward panic at having told anybody. People treat their thoughts like a bad closet that is a real mess, with bugs or dead people in them. They don't want to be embarrassed by having to reveal the contents.

Its not the ones who have a big mess that I worry about. Its the ones who seldom open the door, are empty inside and see no reason to place anything in the closet in the first place.

Interesting people have interesting closets. Empty people have nothing and no one and they are the ones to watch out for.

sometimes surprised rarely, if ever, shocked.

Not much I haven't seen in 30 years of doing this either. People are often embarassed by not coming often enough. My response is: You're here now. No negative reinforcement deals - they suck and they scare off good people. It's like when the doctor tells you that you're fat or that smoking will kill you. there is no question that he or she is correct, but what that will often do is cause the person to remove themselves from a negative situation...and not come back at all.

...and I ws referring to corny due to my 'group hug' which is very corny and ridiculous, but I see the group here at DU like family...but often BETTER.

and I like that. Good to have all kinds of things going on at DU. So hugs back to you Doc.

Which in the current context means that the US is getting ready to radically change and soon.

When I get the details I'll share them. :-)

.... as like auto mechanics on one specialized areas of the human body. A little bit of everything there, from anathesia to the physically rigorous yanking of a recalcitrant tooth.

I have a great dentist, same guy for 20+ years. He still drives the same Suburban he did in '85 and he has a gimme cap collection on the ceiling of his room. :)

The Balcony, a play set in a whorehouse in the middle of a revolution.

plot of the play--that of keeping reality at bay as fantasy reigns supreme in the brothel. Reminds me of more than a few of the costumed figures we have around today. Genet was certainly a very interesting playwright.

in a production during the Nixon era.
It was a role you had to wash off.

But then so was Genet. What a life.

Then you are waiting for yourself.

You are Godot....

"Who among us can enlighten us to find and retain meaning in view of the contrary contemporary problems we have?" Although I haven't read Beckett in years, I will tonight.

I think Beckett is saying that there is nothing inherent in our condition that will allow us to find surcease of pain, as Mathew Arnold expressed about a similar situation. We can wait, and nothing will come of it. We can look desperately for help from someone, whether it is God, or Pozzo – and finally we despair as we cling to our Gogo or Didi, who knows no more than we do, but can assuage the pain of a meaningless existence for a few moments. And I’m pretty sure that Godot means God. Beckett said in an interview that it should be pronounced God’ot.

I think that Beckett, at least to some extent, embraced the absurdity of trying to find meaning outside of ourselves. Most of his plays, the ones that I’ve read anyway, are about characters lost in rounds of self-reflection that can only return back to the emptiness and sense of loss they began with. If you try to give meaning to a meaningless world, despair and confusion can be the only result. I think Beckett is commenting more on our relationship with a search for meaning, and not saying that we should find meaning outside of ourselves. I don’t know if Beckett believed that a reason to exist can be found by introspection or self-examination. From what I've read he gave no indication – but I haven’t read Beckett in years, and could be wrong. I am going to reread Godot tonight.

Thanks again for a great post!

some or all of the things you cite as well. And I would agree with him, except for the times when like his characters I forget those hard fought thought lessons and return to the maze of meanings that the tree exist in.

But for me personally, I can exist in both the world that Beckett portrays and the world of the kid who flipped me the bird.

Enjoy!

to the turmoil in my mind. Should I stay on this bus till the end of the line...or should I try another bus? Does it matter? Will they all eventually lead to the same place? Would I feel better about myself, consuming my thoughts with the pros and cons of bus lines? Or, should I continue to allow my thoughts to be held hostage, by actions and events, outside my periphery, who's only tangible connection to me is humanity, in this world, at this time. Life continues until it ends, and the drivers seat is empty. The illusion is the line, when in fact it's a maze of circuitous stratas of behaviors and perceptions. Sometimes I think I can drive the bus anywhere I want. I map out my journey, and take the wheel. I step on the gas, but the bus won't go. The wheels spin, the engine screams, the smoke engulfs me, and I retreat to my seat.

While the moon is still reflected in the bucket, is it the moon or the reflection we see? Or merely the perception of the reflection? The All is filtered through our imperfect senses. Be in the moment, it doesn't matter whether we wait or not. The future is not yet here, the past is gone. Smile at the butterfly. Peace!:)

If you understand, things are just as they are...

if you do not understand, things are just as they are

To me they represent the ego (Lucky) and society (Pozzo). Answering the question as to why Lucky does not sit, Pozzo answers, “….he is trying to impress me.”

The individual is held by the leash of wanting to belong, while society loads them down with guilty and need. An illusion on Thoreau’s Walden Pond.

Just my thoughts.

I found both Pozzo and Lucky to be most interesting.

postulating that the "leash" was actually held by both Pozzo and Lucky simutaneously. Led to a rousing discussion at the time.

Thank you for the memory.

However, it is only Lucky's desire that creates his burden.

Vladimer and Estragon examine the neck of Lucky

VLADIMIR:
Look!
ESTRAGON:
What?
VLADIMIR:
(pointing). His neck!
ESTRAGON:
(looking at the neck). I see nothing.
VLADIMIR:
Here.
Estragon goes over beside Vladimir.
ESTRAGON:
Oh I say!
VLADIMIR:
A running sore!
ESTRAGON:
It's the rope.
VLADIMIR:
It's the rubbing.
ESTRAGON:
It's inevitable.
VLADIMIR:
It's the knot.
ESTRAGON:
It's the chafing.

no matter what society, the norms and mores are hard to fully adhere with and thus we all carry great burdens of guilt brought about by our desire to belong.

Thanks for the post.

for my daughter's senior year drama night called "Waiting for Cashout" about two girls waiting to get relieved for the night but it never happens. A stock room clerk delivers a message, people around them cashout their register and the discussion revolves around their lives and future. References of course to Godot and Antigone, etc. It was supposed to be non-political satire and certainly the symbolism was not intended to be too profound.

My favorite moment was when they were passing around the bubble wrap to enjoy the small relief of popping the bubbles.

I think Godot denies the comfort of humor and that creates even more agony. Call me spoiled.

Wasn't Beckett's war veteran experience a weird kind of traumatization? Wasn't he out in wilderness alone as some sort of signal spotter, never knowing if he was actually doing anything or what was happening?

was a member of the French Resistance. Whether he had the evening such as you describe I can't say.
When visited by American Director, Alan Schneider in 1955, after being hired to direct the United States premiere of "Waiting for Godot" in Miami, Schneider wanted to know the identitiy of Godot.

Beckett is reputed to have said, "If I knew, I would have said so in the play."

Beckett did suffer the loss of mother, father, and brother as well as his closest friend, Irish author, James Joyce.

There were parts ot Godot that I found homorous. In the initial scene the whole production of the removal of the shoe always amused me. Call me crazy...

It all to cease.

Who's behind the Door
by Zebra..


We sailed away
We walked 2 thousand miles
and then we slipped away
We looked so hard
But couldn't seem to find just what
the world was for
Now we know
Just what the journey's for

Looking out to the stars
Think about what you are
What do they think of you
Animals in their zoo
They haven't got the time
Landing's not on their minds
How do they have the nerve
We're animals in preserve

They watch us all
They're only making sure that we
don't trip and fall
Now they look so hard
But they can't tell us why they're
here and just what for
Because they don't know
Who opened up the door

How can we find out more
Who owns the keyless door
Where does the circle end
Who are the unwatched men
Where do we go from here
Faith is a fading fear
Life is a waiting room
I hope they don't call me soon

How much more do you really
think you know than a flower
does about who's behind the door!

Not just global warming but things like bird flu or wild animals creeping along the peremiter of the "civilization" we have.

Nature is not just a very good pet as so many on our planet seem to think.

I am waiting for Godot.

Usually then I explain it's an obscure reference and then life goes on, as always waiting for Godot.