[(essay date spring-summer 1962) In the following essay, Cohn studies the layers of reality and unreality in Beckett's plays and discusses the characters' awareness of the symbiotic nature of these (un)realities.]
Plato seems to be the first extant writer to view man as a puppet of the gods, and in his wake many authors have dubbed man an actor on the stage of the world. Since the metaphor was particularly dear to those beggar-philosophers, the Cynics, it is scarcely surprising that it also fascinates that contemporary creator of beggar-philosophers, Samuel Beckett. From variations on the old metaphor of theatrum mundi, where man the actor performs for an Eternal Spectator, Beckett creates a new semi-cynical drama.
In Beckett's first play, Eleuthéria (written 1947, but never produced or published) a man of letters, Henri Krap, closes Act I and his life with the appropriate line, "Rideau." Various characters refer to the play in which they play; a spectator jumps on-stage to criticize and interfere with the action; a glazier, summoned to fix a broken window, acts like a director during a rehearsal, and there is even a pirandellesque allusion to the author, named Beckett, pronounced Bequet.
In Waiting for Godot, although there is no mention of Beckett as author, there are subtle indications that the play is a play:
Vladimir:
Charming evening we're having.
Estragon:
Unforgettable.
Vladimir:
And it's not over.
Estragon:
Apparently not.
Vladimir:
It's only beginning.
Estragon:
It's awful.
Vladimir:
Worse than the pantomime.
Estragon:
The circus.
Vladimir:
The music-hall.
Estragon:
The circus.
Vladimir comments acidly, "This is becoming really insignificant," and Estragon, "Inspiring prospects." Estragon directs Vladimir to an unnamed lavatory: "End of the corridor, on the left," and Vladimir requests, "Keep my seat." When Estragon seeks to escape backstage, Vladimir cries out, "Imbecile! There's no way out there." Blind Pozzo of Act II asks if they are on the Board.
All the characters are performing artists; even the long day "is very near the end of its repertory." In spite of his burdens, Lucky's job is not to carry, but to play the buffoon; he is a spectacle for Estragon and Vladimir; he dances and thinks at Pozzo's command. Pozzo in turn is most anxious for audience acclaim; he sprays his throat before speaking: "Is everybody looking at me? ... Is everybody listening? ... I don't like talking in a vacuum." After his discourse on twilight, he asks Vladimir and Estragon, "How did you find me? Good? Fair? Middling? Poor? Positively bad?" And he confesses the obvious, "I have such need of encouragement."
Vladimir and Estragon play at exercises, questions, contradictions, insults; they play at being Pozzo and Lucky. Perhaps because he has been a poet, Estragon is eager to tell Vladimir his dreams. Although Vladimir refuses to listen to Estragon's dreams, he insists upon narrating the story of the two thieves according to St. Luke. He sings a ballad to open Act II; he "minces like a mannequin" while wearing Lucky's hat. After blind Pozzo's outburst,...