Samuel Beckett

2022-07-16 16:28:32 I visited, not so long ago, my father's grave, that I do know, and noted the date of his death, of his death alone, for that of his birth had o interest for me, on that particular day. I set out in the morning and was back by night, having lunched lightly… باز کردن / نظر دهید

2022-07-16 16:20:30 I visited, not so long ago, my father's grave, that I do know, and noted the date of his death, of his death alone, for that of his birth had o interest for me, on that particular day. I set out in the morning and was back by night, having lunched lightly in the graveyard. But some days later, wishing to know his age at death, I had to return to the grave, to note the date of his birth. These two limiting dates I then jotted down on a piece of paper, which I now carry about with me. I am thus in a position to affirm that I must have been about twenty-five at the time of my marriage.
For a date of my own birth, I repeat, my own birth, I have never forgotten, I never had to note it down, it remains graven in my memory, the year at least, in figures that life will not easily erase. The day itself come back to me, when I put my mind to it, and I often celebrate it, after my fashion, I don't say each time it comes back, for it comes back too often, but often.




Beckett
First Love باز کردن / نظر دهید

2022-07-16 15:58:31 Samuel Beckett
London, 1980.

Photographer: John Minihan باز کردن / نظر دهید

2022-07-12 09:10:20 The gave me a tie, after long discussion. It seemed a pretty tie to me, but I didn't like it. When it came at last I was to tired to send it back. But in the end it came in useful. It was blue, with kind of little stars. I didn't feel well, but they told me… باز کردن / نظر دهید

2022-07-12 09:09:59 The gave me a tie, after long discussion. It seemed a pretty tie to me, but I didn't like it. When it came at last I was to tired to send it back. But in the end it came in useful. It was blue, with kind of little stars. I didn't feel well, but they told me I was well enough. They didn't say in so many words that I was as well as I would ever be, but that was the implication.
I lay inert on the bed and it took three women to put on my trousers. They didn't seem to take much interest in my private parts which to tell the truth were nothing to write home about, I didn't take much interest in them myself. But they might have passed some remark.
When they had finished dressing unaided. They told me to sit on the bed and wait. All the bedding had disappeared. It made me angry that they had not let me wait in the familiar bed, instead of leaving me standing in the cold, in these clothes that smelt of sulphur.
I said, you might have left me in bed till the last moment...






Beckett
The End باز کردن / نظر دهید

2022-07-12 08:42:04 I said, keep your hat and give me back mine. I added, Give me back my great coat. They replied that they had burnt them, together with my other clothes.
I understood then that the end was near, at least fairly near.




Beckett
The End باز کردن / نظر دهید

2022-07-07 21:58:34 تا آن‌جا که حافظه‌ام یاری می‌کند، هیچ‌چیزی نبود که به همین مسئله‌ی زندگی و مرگ مربوط نباشد. اما این‌که اصل ماجرا واقعاً چیست، درحال حاضر حرفی برای گفتن ندارم، جز این‌که تختم را جمع کنم و راه بیفتم. گُنگ و مبهم است، همین مسئله‌ی زندگی و مرگ.




بکت
مالون می‌میرد. ترجمه‌ی سهیل سُمّی

تصویر: ساموئل بکت و توماس مک‌گریوی. ۱۹۳۴ باز کردن / نظر دهید

2022-07-06 05:52:55 سوگ.


Schubert
@beckett_samuel باز کردن / نظر دهید

2022-07-04 11:16:46 ادامه‌:


او درحالی که روی تختش در اتاقی کم‌نور و ناشناخته با یک دفترچه و یک مداد نشسته است و شروع به نوشتن طرح و روایتی می‌کند که به چهار بهش تقسیم کرده است: ۱. توصیف شرایط فعلی‌اش. ۲. تعریف کردن چهار داستان که بعد از بازنگری به سه‌داستان کاهش می‌يابد؛ ۳. تهیه‌ی فهرست داشته‌هایش؛ ۴. در نهایت مردن. لزوماً مرگ او و پایان روایتش همزمان خواهند بود. واقعیت این است که او قادر نیست مرگش را توصیف کند (هرچند این توصیف، حقیقت برجسته‌ای برای نگارش داستانش محسوب می‌شود)؛ به این دلیل که قادر نیست بخش‌های دیگر طرحش را نیز اجزا کند.



نوشته‌ی هیو کِنر باز کردن / نظر دهید

2022-07-04 11:16:21 مالون می‌نویسد: "مالون، نامی است که در حال حاضر دارم." چند صفحه بعد اشاره می‌کند که "مرفی‌ها، مرسیه‌ها، مالوی‌ها، موران‌ها، مالون‌ها" همه مخلوقات ذهن او هستند.
اوخلق‌شان کرده و بعد آن‌ها را کشته است.
" چند نفر را کشته‌ام، آن‌هایی را که به سرشان شلیک کرد‌ه‌ام و آن‌هایی را که به آتش کشیده‌ام؟." ( صفحه‌ی ۱۰۲ ) او قتل پنج نفر را به یاد می‌آورد: مرفی و پیشکار پیر در مرفی؛ پاسبان در مرسیه و کامیه؛ مرد پرسشگری که توسط موران کشته شد؛ و زغال‌پزی که مورد حمله‌ی مالوی قرار گرفت و هر دو در مالدی کشته شدند. (چنین فرض می‌شود که زغال‌پز کشته شده، چون شاهدی برایش نداریم.)
حالا خود مالون نیز در حال احتضار است و چون گذشته، روزگار را با داستان‌ها می‌گذراند. او خود را هشتاد ساله معرفی می‌کند و می‌گوید سی‌هزار روز زندگی کرده است، سی‌هزار روز عجیب که نشان می‌دهد حداقل هشتاد‌و‌دو سال دارد‌.



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