Tuesday, 25 November 2014

A Hesitation Before Birth

  A theatre director who has to create everything from scratch, he even has to father the actors. A visitor is denied admittance on the grounds that the director is engaged in important theatre business. What is it? He is changing the nappies on a future actor.
 The idea of someone who before he can begin, first has to make himself: someone who is stuck in the lumber-room of preparation.
 .......In the Great Account of my life,it is still reckoned as if my life were first beginning tomorrow,and in the meantime it is all over with me.
In Kafka, there is a kind of induction into the world, a 'primal baptism' which somehow he has missed, and this oversight, this failure to assume full existence, is irreversible and ongoing. "Still unborn and compelled to walk the streets." Or, famously, "My life is a hesitation before birth".

There are other writers who are similarly, creatures of the anteroom, waiting behind the door, inhabiting a kind of pre-life. There is, for example, something very similar thing in Schulz:

There are things that cannot ever occur with any precision. ... They are merely trying to occur, they are checking whether the ground of reality can carry them. And they quickly withdraw, fearing to lose their integrity in the frailty of realisation.

 There is a kind of writing that prefers the limbo of the unfulfilled, the incomplete, the antechamber of existence. Beckett seems to fall into this category. In Texts for Nothing, for instance, there are many formulations like this:  "Where would I go if I could go," "Leave, I was going to say leave all that.." In the latter, we think we are looking at an enjoinder - Leave! - venture forth (or/and 'jettison, reject'), but only for a fraction of a second. It's immediately recuped as a merely quoted word, as an unfulfilled intention. The French Comment C'est contains both 'Commence!' and 'How it is', as if the command to begin is at once countermanded by resignation ('that's just the way things are'). We are with him in the anteroom of unfulfilled intentions, of things that have failed to come into being, grown sick and bodiless.

We are dealing with an aesthetic of failure, in which the very inability to acheive embodiment is embodied in a text.