SAMUEL BECKETT by yurtgc548


									  Reading and Writing Skills for
 Students of Literature in English:
Postwar; Postmodern; Postcolonial
            Enric Monforte
          Jacqueline Hurtley
             Bill Phillips
Samuel Beckett

Breath (1969)
Samuel Beckett (1906-1989)

          Some of Beckett’s plays

•   Eleutheria (first play) (1947)
•   En attendant Godot premiered in Paris (1953)
•   Fin de Partie (1957)
•   Krapp’s Last Tape (1958)
•   Happy Days (1961)
•   Play (1964)
•   Breath (1969)
•   Not I (1973)
         Some of Beckett’s plays

•   That Time and Footfalls (1976)
•   A Piece of Monologue (1979)
•   Rockaby and Ohio Impromptu (1981)
•   Catastrophe (1982)
•   What Where (1983)
   Some of Beckett’s prose works

• More Pricks than Kicks (1934)
• Murphy (1938)
• Molloy, Malone meurt, L’innomable
• Mercier et Camier (1973)
                                                Nobel Prize for
                                               Literature (1969)


‘Mix a powerful imagination with a logic in absurdum, and the result
will be either a paradox or an Irishman. If it is an Irishman, you will
get the paradox into the bargain. Even the Nobel Prize in Literature
is sometimes divided. Paradoxically, this has happened in 1969, a single
award being addressed to one man, two languages and a third nation,
itself divided.’
Presentation speech by Karl Ragnar Gierow, of the Swedish Academy

• 'Breath' was written in response to
  Kenneth Tynan's request for a piece
  for his show Oh! Calcutta! at New
  York's Eden Theatre on 16 June
  1969. It lasts less than a minute
• The text was originally published in
  'Gambit', Vol. 4, No. 16 (1970). At the
  time, it was considered as the
  culmination of Beckett's work

                                              The setting for Breath -
                                              a Channel 4 production
                                              (dir. Damien Hirst, 2000)
The farther he goes the more good it does me. I don't
want philosophies, tracts, dogmas, creeds, ways out,
truths, answers, nothing from the bargain basement. He
is the most courageous, remorseless writer going and
the more he grinds my nose in the shit the more I am
grateful to him. He's not f---ing me about, he's not
leading me up any garden path, he's not slipping me a
wink, he's not flogging me a remedy or a path or a
revelation or a basinful of breadcrumbs, he's not selling
me anything I don't want to buy — he doesn't give a
bollock whether I buy or not — he hasn't got his hand
over his heart. Well, I'll buy his goods, hook, line and
sinker, because he leaves no stone unturned and no
maggot lonely. He brings forth a body of beauty.
His work is beautiful.
                                            Harold Pinter
Beckett’s grave in Montparnasse
        Cemetery, Paris


To top