“On Beckett: Essays and Criticism” is the first collection of writings about the Nobel Prize–winning author that covers the entire spectrum of his work, and also affords a rare glimpse of the private Beckett. More has been written about Samuel Beckett than about any other writer of this century – countless books and articles dealing with him are in print, and the progression continues geometrically. “On Beckett” brings together some of the most perceptive writings from the vast amount of scrutiny that has been lavished on the man; in addition to widely read essays there are contributions from more obscure sources, viewpoints not frequently seen. Together they allow the reader to enter the world of a writer whose work has left an impact on the consciousness of our time perhaps unmatched by that of any other recent creative imagination. S. E. Gontarski is a writer, scholar and director, at whose request Samuel Beckett wrote the short play “Ohio Impromptu” (1981). Gontarski is the Robert O. Lawton Distinguished Professor of English at Florida State University, where he specializes in twentieth-century Irish studies, in British, US and European modernism, and in performance theory. On Beckett Essays and Criticism By S. E. Gontarski Wimbledon Publishing Company Copyright © 2014 S. E. Gontarski editorial matter and selection All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-78308-154-7 Contents The Essential Beckett: A Preface to the Second Edition S. E. Gontarski, xi, A Beckett Chronology, xvii, Acknowledgments, xxvii, Introduction Crritics and Crriticism: "Getting Known" S. E. Gontarski, 1, Preliminaries, Beckett and Merlin Richard W. Seaver, 15, Samuel Beckett and the Visual Arts: The Embarrassment of Allegory Dougald McMillan, 23, When is the End Not the End? The Idea of Fiction in Beckett Wolfgang Iser, 36, The Page, Murphy and the Uses of Repetition Rubin Rabinovitz, 53, Watt Lawrence E. Harvey, 72, Mercier and Camier: Narration, Dante, and the Couple Eric P. Levy, 92, Molloy's Silence Georges Bataille, 103, Where Now? Who Now? Maurice Blanchot, 111, The Voice and Its Words: How It Is J. E. Dearlove, 118, The Unnamable's First Voice? Chris Ackerley, 133, Between Verse and Prose: Beckett and the New Poetry Marjorie Perloff, 138, Worstward Ho Dougald McMillan, 152, The Stage, MacGowran on Beckett Interview by Richard Toscan, 157, Blin on Beckett Interview by Tom Bishop, 167, Working with Beckett Alan Schneider, 175, Notes from the Underground: Waiting for Godot and Endgame Herbert Blau, 189, Beckett Directs Godot Walter D. Asmus, 209, Beckett Directs: Endgame and Krapp's Last Tape Ruby Cohn, 218, Literary Allusions in Happy Days S. E. Gontarski, 232, Counterpoint, Absence, and the Medium in Beckett's Not I Paul Lawley, 245, Rehearsal Notes for the German Premiere of Beckett's That Time and Footfalls Walter D. Asmus, 253, Footfalls James Knowlson, 265, Samuel Beckett and the Art of Radio Martin Esslin, 273, Light, Sound, Movement, and Action in Beckett's Rockaby Enoch Brater, 292, Beckett's Ohio Impromptu: A View from the Isle of Swans Pierre Astier, 299, Quad and Catastrophe S. E. Gontarski, 307, Coda, Burroughs with Beckett in Berlin Edited by Victor Bockris, 313, Notes on Contributors, 318, CHAPTER 1 BECKETT AND MERLIN Richard W. Seaver The early fifties found me in Paris, fresh out of college, in search of I'm not sure what gods or ghosts but convinced they could be discovered only in that magic city. I had found quarters, if that term can be applied to an abandoned warehouse, on the rue du Sabot, a tiny street directly behind St.-Germain-des-Prés. The owner was a Swiss dealer in primitive art. In return for my tending the shop a few hours a week, he gave me free lodging in an empty ground-floor warehouse at the end of the courtyard. I mention the geography because this dépôt — which, my Swiss landlord proudly informed me, had once been a banana-drying shed — was destined to become the headquarters of the magazine- and book-publishing enterprise known to history as Merlin and also because it was a scant fifty yards from the offices of the most daring and perceptive French publisher of the time, Les Editions de Minuit. There were two routes from my warehouse-home to the bright cafés of St.-Germain-des-Prés, one by the rue du Dragon, the other by the rue Bernard-Palissy, and since I took at least two trips to St.-Germain every day and always tried to avoid taking the same route twice in a row, it happened, almost inevitably, that I passed number 7 of the latter street at least once a day. Number 7, a bordel until the puritanical wrath of a famous female Gallic zealot of the period, Marthe Robert, caused these dens of iniquity to close in 1948, now housed Les Editions de Minuit. The grilled peephole was still on the thick wooden door. To the right of the door was a tiny display window set into the wall, which in times past had housed God knows what baw