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A review by ctomchek
The Unnamable by Samuel Beckett
5.0
my fav of the trilogy, tho i imagine that might only be bc it was the last, not to say i was happy for it to end, but rather that there’s a learning curve to reading beckett, and the farther u go the more penetrable the nonsense, and soon enough u come to find— between the fart jokes & amidst the 100 page long paragraph— this shit is riddled w eternal truths
“All this business of a labor to accomplish, before i can end, of words to say, a truth to recover, in order to say it, before i can end, of an imposed task, once known, long neglected, finally forgotten, to perform, before i can be done with speaking, done with listening, i invented it all, in the hope it would console me, help me to go on, allow me to think of myself as somewhere on a road, moving, between a beginning and an end, gaining ground, losing ground, getting lost, but somehow in the long run making headway. All lies.”
“All this business of a labor to accomplish, before i can end, of words to say, a truth to recover, in order to say it, before i can end, of an imposed task, once known, long neglected, finally forgotten, to perform, before i can be done with speaking, done with listening, i invented it all, in the hope it would console me, help me to go on, allow me to think of myself as somewhere on a road, moving, between a beginning and an end, gaining ground, losing ground, getting lost, but somehow in the long run making headway. All lies.”