Customer Reviews

The Insanity of Samuel Beckett's Art

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Certainly the reader will not come away from this book with mixed feelings, but that will depend on how much of an icon the reader considers Beckett to be. When I first read Beckett in the early '60s I was enthralled with the turgid atmosphere Beckett created. He was a new voice to me, but I was troubled by the underlying irritation I felt, the futility of the plot, and the seeming helplessness and ineffectualness of his characters. That has not changed over the years. Beckett is excellent for dredging up all the anxieties of the little life.

I must confess, however, that the desire of people to ascribe genius to the man leaves me somewhat mystified. He is not as deep as Joyce or as inaccessible as the prose of Dylan and I find these two Celtic sons much more rewarding. They had their own widely acknowledged demons. Beckett has his. Therefore I did not find this work by Mr. Stephenson anything more than insightful into another of Beckett's grotesque wrinkles.

Mr. Stephenson has his own writing style and his voice is forceful, however, it seems to me that the reason for reading this piece is to gain insight into the work of Beckett. What else is an academic monograph for? You can agree or disagree with an author's premise, but a reader must take away some new things to consider about the subject of any monograph. I did, and felt that the reading of Mr. Stephenson's criticism was worth my time because it added the overall personality of this sad, bewitched, grim Gael.