#194 Ping- Samuel Beckett

#194 Ping- Samuel Beckett

Here is another brilliant writer banished from Ireland during his lifetime. Maybe it was Ireland’s loss, or maybe like James Joyce it spurred Beckett to greater purpose. This piece defies form. Trying to describe this work would be like trying to explain the shape of water, it can only be defined by that which holds it. It’s a literary Rorschach test.

Is this a dream, a nightmare, a tap into subconsciousness? Probably all of that. The fear and uncertainty in this piece is unsettling. The mind fixes on the basic things, light, color, shape, etc. But why are these things in the narrators mind? Is it what is being seen or remembered or imagined? All I see is resigned fear, but like I said, that might be only what’s in my head.

Rating: 8-9-10-9 Total=36