~o longer
anywhere
to he seen.
Samuel Beckett
Shut of at last'?
Alas no.
SH
S0
L.
For will she not be surprised one da:- to find him gone? Surprised no she is be:-ond surprise. How man:-? A figure come what may. Tll-elve. 'ATherewith to furnish the horizon's narrOlI round. She raises her eyes and sees 0l1e. Turns away and sees another. So on. Ahl-ays afar. Still or recE'ding. She neyer once sml- one come toward her. Or she forgets. She foruets. Are tht'v
C' t" always the same? Do the\- see her? Enough.
A moor would haH' better met the case. "Vere there a case better to meet. ThfTe had to lw lambs. Riuhth
t" .
or wrongl:-. A moor would have allowed of them. Lambs for their \I-hitcness. And for Otlli'! ' reasons as yet obscure. Another reason. And so that there may be none. At lambing timt'. That from one moment to
the nt',,"t she l11a:- raise her ews to [mel them gone. A
moor would have allowed of tlli'm. In am- case too late.
AmI what lambs. X0 trace of frolic. White splotches
in the grass. Aloof from the unheeding ewes. Still.
Then a moment straYing. Then still again. To think
•,L
there is still life in this age. GentlY gently.
L•~•
She is drawn to a certain spot. At times. There stands a stone. It it is draws lwr. Rounded rectangular block three times as high as wide. Four. Her stature now. Her lowly stature. When it draws she must to it. She cannot see it from her door. Blindfold she could fmd her way. With herself she has no more converse. Never had much. Now none. As had she the misfor tune to be still of this world. But when the stone draws then to her feet the prayer, Take her. Especially at
night when the skies are clear. With moon or without.
They take her and halt her before it. There she too as
if of stone. But black. Sometimes in the light of the
L
moon. Most! y of the stars alone. Docs she envy it?
)
To the imaginary stranger the dwelling appears deserted. Under constant watch it betrays no sign of life. The eye glued to one or the other window has nothing but black drapes for its pains. Motionless against the door he listens long. No sound. Knocks. No answer. Watches all night in vain for the least glim mer. Returns at last to his own and avows, Noone.
60
61
She shows herself onh- to her own. But she has no own. Yes yes she has one. And who has her.
There was a time when she did not appear in the
zone of stones. A long time. Was not therefore to be
seen going out or coming in. When she appeared onl:
in the pastures. Was not therefore to be seen leaving
them. Save as though by enchantment. But little by
little she began to appear. In the zone of stones. First
darkly. Then more and more plain. Till in detail she
could be seen crossing the threshold both wa:-s and
closing the door behind her. Then a time when within G
her walls she did not appear. A long time. But little b: little she began to appear. Within her walls. Darkly. Time truth to tell still current. Though she within them no more. This long time.
Yes within her walls so far at the window onlY. At one or the other window. Rapt before the sky. And onl;- half seen so far a pallet and a ghostl:- chair. III half seen. And how in her faint comings and goings she suddenly stops dead. And how hard set to rise up
from off her knees. But there too little by little she begins to appear more plain. Within her walls. As well as other objects. Such as under her pillow-such as deep in some recess this still shadow:- album. Perhaps in time be by her when she takes it on her knees. See the old fingers fumble through the pages. And what scenes the;- can possibl:- be that draw the head down lower still and hold it in thrall. In the meantime who knows no more than withered flowers. No more!
But quick seize her where she is best to be seized. In the pastures far from shelter. She crosses the zone of stones and is there. Clearer and clearer as she goes. Quick seeing she goes out less and less. And so to sa: only in winter. Winter in her winter haunts she wan ders. Far from shelter. Head bowed she makes her slow wavering way across the snow. It is evening. Yet again.
On the snow her long shadow keeps her company. The others are there. All about. The twelve. Afar. Still or receding. She raises her eyes and sees one. Turns away and sees another. Again she stops dead. Now the moment or never. But something forbids. Just time
62
63
The face must \\ait. Jlist time hefort, tIw l>\{; ea,. ;t down. \Vhere nothin~ to IJ(' s('en ill tIl(' ~razin~ ra\,. ; Intt ,. ;nO\\. :\m] hO\\~ all aJ)(jut litt]l' IJY litt}l' l1I'r footprint,. ; all' e('faced.
\\ hat i,. ; it defend,. ; h('f? E\Tn from her O\\n. ;\Yl'l'ts tl1l' intent ~azl" Incriminate,. ; tht, dearly won. ForlJids lh\~inin~ Iwr. \V hat hut lift' endin~. Hers. The Otlll'l"S. But ";0 otIwrwi,. ;t'. She nt'eds nothin~. Nothin~ utter
thc otl1l'r. H(m need in the eml? But
to JJ('£in to £Iilll}l,. ;e a frin£l' of }dack
\~('il.
wait for her to reappear. In order to resume. Resume the-what is the word? What the wrong word?
Riveted to some detail of the desert the eve fills with /
tears. Imagination at wit's end spreads its sad wings. Gone she hears one night the sea as if afar. Plucks up her long skirt to make better haste and discovers her boots and stockings to the calf. Tears. Last example the flagstone before her door that b:r- dint b:r- dint her little weight has grooved. Tears.
Before left for the stockings the boots have time to be ill buttoned. Weeping over as weeping will see now the buttonhook larger than life. Of tarnished silver pisciform it hangs b;~ its hook from a nail. It trembles faintly without cease. As if here without cease the earth faintl;' quaked. The oval handle is wrought to a sem blance of scales. The shank a little bent leads up to the hook the e:~e so far still dr:~. A lifetime of hooking has lessened its curvature. To the point at certain moments
of its seeming unfit for service. Child's pla:~ with a pliers to restore it. 'Was there once a time she did?
",
ahlt'.
hO\\? Ho\\ ]w(,d in the ('nd?
\\~I1l'rt'a,. ;
Times ,dwn she is gone. Lon£ lapses of time. At LL
crocus time it \\~oull] JJ(' makin? : for tll(' distant tomlJ.
To havt' that on the imagination! On top of the rest.
! 3eal'ing 1)\ the stem or round her arm the cross or
\\TPath. But she can be gone at any time. From one
L•
moment of the war to the next suddenly no longer there.
~o longer anywhere to he seen. Nor bv the eve
c. • ••
of flesh nor }l: the other. Then as suddenl:~there again. Long after. So on. Am other would renounce. Avow, No one. No one more. Any other than this other. In
64
6. 5
Careful. Once once in a way. Till she could no more. No more bring the jaws together. Oh not for weakness. Since when it hangs useless from the nail. Trembling imperceptibly without cease. Silver shimmers some evenings when the skies are clear. Close-up then. In which in defiance of reason the nail prevails. Long this image till suddenl:- it blurs.
She is there. Again. Let the e:-e from its vigil be
distracted a moment. At break or close of day. Dis
tracted by the sk:-. B:- something in the sk:-. So that
when it resumes the curtain ma\- be no longer closed.
•L.
Opened by her to let her see the sk:-. But even without that she is there. Without the curtain's being opened. Suddenly open. A flash. The suddenness of all! She still without stopping. On her wa:- without starting. Gone without going. Back without returning. Sud denl:' it is evening. Or dawn. The e:-e rivets the bare window. Nothing in the sk:- will distract it from it more. While she from within looks her fill. Pfft oc
culted. Nothing having stirred.
Alread: all confusion. Things and imaginings. . \s of
alwa:s. Confusion amounting to nothing. Despite pre
cautions. If onl:' she could be pure figment. Unalloyed.
This old so dying woman. So dead. In the madhouse of
,L.
the skull and nowhere else. Where no more precau tions to be taken. No precautions possible. Cooped up there with the rest. Hovel and stones. The lot. And the e:'e. How simple all then. If onh- all could be pure fig ment. Neither be nor been nor by am shift to he. Gently gently. On. Careful.
,,0 "
Here to the rescue two lights. Two small skYlights.
G •L.
Set in the high-pitched roof on either side. Each shed
ding dim light. No ceiling therefore. Necessarilv.
Otherwise with the curtains closed she would be in
the dark. Day and night in the dark. And what of it?
,L.
She is done with raising her e\-es. Nearly done. But
L.
when she lies with them open she can just make out the rafters. In the dim light the skYlights shed. An eser
L. ,L
dimmer light. As the panes slowly dimmen. . \11 in black she comes and goes. The hem of her long black skirt brushes the floor. But most often she is still.
66
I
67
Standing or sitting. L:ing or on her knees. In the dim light the skylights shed. Otherwise with the curtains closed for preference she would be in the dark. In the dark da:- and night.
Next to emerge from the shadows an inner wall. Only slowl:- to dissolve in favour of a single space. East the bed. West the chair. A place divided by her use of it alone. How more elesirable in every wayan interior of a piece. The e:e breathes again but not for long. For slowl:- it emerges again. Rises from the floor and slowly up to lose itself in the gloom. The semigloom. It is evening. The buttonhook glimmers in the last rays. The pallet scarce to be seen.
Weary of the inanimate the eye in her absence falls
. .
back on the twelve. Out of her sight as she of theirs.
Alone turn where she mal she keeps her e)(,s fixed on
the ground. On the way at her feet where it has come
to a stop. Winter evening. Not to be precise. All so b - l
gone. To the twelve then for want of better the wiel owed eve. No matter which. In the elistanc(~ stiff he
stands facing front and the setting sun. Dark greatcoat GGG
reaching to the grullnel. Anticfuated block hat. Finall: the face caught full in the last rays. Quick enlarge and
L•L/
devour before night falls.
Having no need of light to see the e:-e makes haste. Before night falls. So it is. So itself belies. Then glut ted-then torpid under its lid makes way for unreason. What if not her do the:- ring arollnel? Careful. She who looks up no more looks up and sees them. Some among
them. Still or receeling. Receding. Those too closely seen who move to preserve their elistance. While at the same time others advance. Those in the wake of her wandering. She never once saw one come toward her. Or she forgets. She forgets. Now some do. Toward but never nearer. Thus they keep her in the centre. More or less. What then if not her do they ring around? In their ring whence she disappears unhindered. Whence they let her disappear. Instead of disappearing in her company. So the unreasoning goes. \Vhile the eye digests its pittance. In its private dark. In the general
dark.
68
69
l
As hope expires of her ever reappearing she re appears. At first sight little changed. It is evening. It will alway-s be evening. When not night. She emerges at the fringe of the pastures and sets forward across them. Slowl:- with fluttering step as if wanting mass. Suddenly still and as suddenly on her way again. At
•G
this rate it will be black night before she reaches home. Home! But time slows all this while. Suits its speed to hers. Whence from beginning to end of her course no
LG
loss or but little of twilight. A matter at most of a candle G
or two. Bearing south as best she can she casts toward
the moon to come her long black shadow. The:- come
at last to the door holding a great key. At the same
instant night. When not evening night. Head bowed L, . . . . . . G
she stands exposed facing east. All dead still. All save hanging from a finger the old key polished by use. Trembling it faintly shimmers in the light of the moon.
'Vooed from below the face consents at last. In the dim light reflected by the flag. Calm slab worn and polished by agelong comings and goings. Livid pallor. Not a wrinkle. How serene it seems this ancient mask.
Worthv those worn by certain ne\vh dead. True the light leaves to be desired. The lids occult the longed for eves. Time will tell them washen blue. Where tears perhaps not for nothing. Unimaginable tears of old. Lashes jet black remains of the brunette she was. Per
haps once was. When :-et a lass. Yet brunette.
SH
S0
L.
For will she not be surprised one da:- to find him gone? Surprised no she is be:-ond surprise. How man:-? A figure come what may. Tll-elve. 'ATherewith to furnish the horizon's narrOlI round. She raises her eyes and sees 0l1e. Turns away and sees another. So on. Ahl-ays afar. Still or recE'ding. She neyer once sml- one come toward her. Or she forgets. She foruets. Are tht'v
C' t" always the same? Do the\- see her? Enough.
A moor would haH' better met the case. "Vere there a case better to meet. ThfTe had to lw lambs. Riuhth
t" .
or wrongl:-. A moor would have allowed of them. Lambs for their \I-hitcness. And for Otlli'! ' reasons as yet obscure. Another reason. And so that there may be none. At lambing timt'. That from one moment to
the nt',,"t she l11a:- raise her ews to [mel them gone. A
moor would have allowed of tlli'm. In am- case too late.
AmI what lambs. X0 trace of frolic. White splotches
in the grass. Aloof from the unheeding ewes. Still.
Then a moment straYing. Then still again. To think
•,L
there is still life in this age. GentlY gently.
L•~•
She is drawn to a certain spot. At times. There stands a stone. It it is draws lwr. Rounded rectangular block three times as high as wide. Four. Her stature now. Her lowly stature. When it draws she must to it. She cannot see it from her door. Blindfold she could fmd her way. With herself she has no more converse. Never had much. Now none. As had she the misfor tune to be still of this world. But when the stone draws then to her feet the prayer, Take her. Especially at
night when the skies are clear. With moon or without.
They take her and halt her before it. There she too as
if of stone. But black. Sometimes in the light of the
L
moon. Most! y of the stars alone. Docs she envy it?
)
To the imaginary stranger the dwelling appears deserted. Under constant watch it betrays no sign of life. The eye glued to one or the other window has nothing but black drapes for its pains. Motionless against the door he listens long. No sound. Knocks. No answer. Watches all night in vain for the least glim mer. Returns at last to his own and avows, Noone.
60
61
She shows herself onh- to her own. But she has no own. Yes yes she has one. And who has her.
There was a time when she did not appear in the
zone of stones. A long time. Was not therefore to be
seen going out or coming in. When she appeared onl:
in the pastures. Was not therefore to be seen leaving
them. Save as though by enchantment. But little by
little she began to appear. In the zone of stones. First
darkly. Then more and more plain. Till in detail she
could be seen crossing the threshold both wa:-s and
closing the door behind her. Then a time when within G
her walls she did not appear. A long time. But little b: little she began to appear. Within her walls. Darkly. Time truth to tell still current. Though she within them no more. This long time.
Yes within her walls so far at the window onlY. At one or the other window. Rapt before the sky. And onl;- half seen so far a pallet and a ghostl:- chair. III half seen. And how in her faint comings and goings she suddenly stops dead. And how hard set to rise up
from off her knees. But there too little by little she begins to appear more plain. Within her walls. As well as other objects. Such as under her pillow-such as deep in some recess this still shadow:- album. Perhaps in time be by her when she takes it on her knees. See the old fingers fumble through the pages. And what scenes the;- can possibl:- be that draw the head down lower still and hold it in thrall. In the meantime who knows no more than withered flowers. No more!
But quick seize her where she is best to be seized. In the pastures far from shelter. She crosses the zone of stones and is there. Clearer and clearer as she goes. Quick seeing she goes out less and less. And so to sa: only in winter. Winter in her winter haunts she wan ders. Far from shelter. Head bowed she makes her slow wavering way across the snow. It is evening. Yet again.
On the snow her long shadow keeps her company. The others are there. All about. The twelve. Afar. Still or receding. She raises her eyes and sees one. Turns away and sees another. Again she stops dead. Now the moment or never. But something forbids. Just time
62
63
The face must \\ait. Jlist time hefort, tIw l>\{; ea,. ;t down. \Vhere nothin~ to IJ(' s('en ill tIl(' ~razin~ ra\,. ; Intt ,. ;nO\\. :\m] hO\\~ all aJ)(jut litt]l' IJY litt}l' l1I'r footprint,. ; all' e('faced.
\\ hat i,. ; it defend,. ; h('f? E\Tn from her O\\n. ;\Yl'l'ts tl1l' intent ~azl" Incriminate,. ; tht, dearly won. ForlJids lh\~inin~ Iwr. \V hat hut lift' endin~. Hers. The Otlll'l"S. But ";0 otIwrwi,. ;t'. She nt'eds nothin~. Nothin~ utter
thc otl1l'r. H(m need in the eml? But
to JJ('£in to £Iilll}l,. ;e a frin£l' of }dack
\~('il.
wait for her to reappear. In order to resume. Resume the-what is the word? What the wrong word?
Riveted to some detail of the desert the eve fills with /
tears. Imagination at wit's end spreads its sad wings. Gone she hears one night the sea as if afar. Plucks up her long skirt to make better haste and discovers her boots and stockings to the calf. Tears. Last example the flagstone before her door that b:r- dint b:r- dint her little weight has grooved. Tears.
Before left for the stockings the boots have time to be ill buttoned. Weeping over as weeping will see now the buttonhook larger than life. Of tarnished silver pisciform it hangs b;~ its hook from a nail. It trembles faintly without cease. As if here without cease the earth faintl;' quaked. The oval handle is wrought to a sem blance of scales. The shank a little bent leads up to the hook the e:~e so far still dr:~. A lifetime of hooking has lessened its curvature. To the point at certain moments
of its seeming unfit for service. Child's pla:~ with a pliers to restore it. 'Was there once a time she did?
",
ahlt'.
hO\\? Ho\\ ]w(,d in the ('nd?
\\~I1l'rt'a,. ;
Times ,dwn she is gone. Lon£ lapses of time. At LL
crocus time it \\~oull] JJ(' makin? : for tll(' distant tomlJ.
To havt' that on the imagination! On top of the rest.
! 3eal'ing 1)\ the stem or round her arm the cross or
\\TPath. But she can be gone at any time. From one
L•
moment of the war to the next suddenly no longer there.
~o longer anywhere to he seen. Nor bv the eve
c. • ••
of flesh nor }l: the other. Then as suddenl:~there again. Long after. So on. Am other would renounce. Avow, No one. No one more. Any other than this other. In
64
6. 5
Careful. Once once in a way. Till she could no more. No more bring the jaws together. Oh not for weakness. Since when it hangs useless from the nail. Trembling imperceptibly without cease. Silver shimmers some evenings when the skies are clear. Close-up then. In which in defiance of reason the nail prevails. Long this image till suddenl:- it blurs.
She is there. Again. Let the e:-e from its vigil be
distracted a moment. At break or close of day. Dis
tracted by the sk:-. B:- something in the sk:-. So that
when it resumes the curtain ma\- be no longer closed.
•L.
Opened by her to let her see the sk:-. But even without that she is there. Without the curtain's being opened. Suddenly open. A flash. The suddenness of all! She still without stopping. On her wa:- without starting. Gone without going. Back without returning. Sud denl:' it is evening. Or dawn. The e:-e rivets the bare window. Nothing in the sk:- will distract it from it more. While she from within looks her fill. Pfft oc
culted. Nothing having stirred.
Alread: all confusion. Things and imaginings. . \s of
alwa:s. Confusion amounting to nothing. Despite pre
cautions. If onl:' she could be pure figment. Unalloyed.
This old so dying woman. So dead. In the madhouse of
,L.
the skull and nowhere else. Where no more precau tions to be taken. No precautions possible. Cooped up there with the rest. Hovel and stones. The lot. And the e:'e. How simple all then. If onh- all could be pure fig ment. Neither be nor been nor by am shift to he. Gently gently. On. Careful.
,,0 "
Here to the rescue two lights. Two small skYlights.
G •L.
Set in the high-pitched roof on either side. Each shed
ding dim light. No ceiling therefore. Necessarilv.
Otherwise with the curtains closed she would be in
the dark. Day and night in the dark. And what of it?
,L.
She is done with raising her e\-es. Nearly done. But
L.
when she lies with them open she can just make out the rafters. In the dim light the skYlights shed. An eser
L. ,L
dimmer light. As the panes slowly dimmen. . \11 in black she comes and goes. The hem of her long black skirt brushes the floor. But most often she is still.
66
I
67
Standing or sitting. L:ing or on her knees. In the dim light the skylights shed. Otherwise with the curtains closed for preference she would be in the dark. In the dark da:- and night.
Next to emerge from the shadows an inner wall. Only slowl:- to dissolve in favour of a single space. East the bed. West the chair. A place divided by her use of it alone. How more elesirable in every wayan interior of a piece. The e:e breathes again but not for long. For slowl:- it emerges again. Rises from the floor and slowly up to lose itself in the gloom. The semigloom. It is evening. The buttonhook glimmers in the last rays. The pallet scarce to be seen.
Weary of the inanimate the eye in her absence falls
. .
back on the twelve. Out of her sight as she of theirs.
Alone turn where she mal she keeps her e)(,s fixed on
the ground. On the way at her feet where it has come
to a stop. Winter evening. Not to be precise. All so b - l
gone. To the twelve then for want of better the wiel owed eve. No matter which. In the elistanc(~ stiff he
stands facing front and the setting sun. Dark greatcoat GGG
reaching to the grullnel. Anticfuated block hat. Finall: the face caught full in the last rays. Quick enlarge and
L•L/
devour before night falls.
Having no need of light to see the e:-e makes haste. Before night falls. So it is. So itself belies. Then glut ted-then torpid under its lid makes way for unreason. What if not her do the:- ring arollnel? Careful. She who looks up no more looks up and sees them. Some among
them. Still or receeling. Receding. Those too closely seen who move to preserve their elistance. While at the same time others advance. Those in the wake of her wandering. She never once saw one come toward her. Or she forgets. She forgets. Now some do. Toward but never nearer. Thus they keep her in the centre. More or less. What then if not her do they ring around? In their ring whence she disappears unhindered. Whence they let her disappear. Instead of disappearing in her company. So the unreasoning goes. \Vhile the eye digests its pittance. In its private dark. In the general
dark.
68
69
l
As hope expires of her ever reappearing she re appears. At first sight little changed. It is evening. It will alway-s be evening. When not night. She emerges at the fringe of the pastures and sets forward across them. Slowl:- with fluttering step as if wanting mass. Suddenly still and as suddenly on her way again. At
•G
this rate it will be black night before she reaches home. Home! But time slows all this while. Suits its speed to hers. Whence from beginning to end of her course no
LG
loss or but little of twilight. A matter at most of a candle G
or two. Bearing south as best she can she casts toward
the moon to come her long black shadow. The:- come
at last to the door holding a great key. At the same
instant night. When not evening night. Head bowed L, . . . . . . G
she stands exposed facing east. All dead still. All save hanging from a finger the old key polished by use. Trembling it faintly shimmers in the light of the moon.
'Vooed from below the face consents at last. In the dim light reflected by the flag. Calm slab worn and polished by agelong comings and goings. Livid pallor. Not a wrinkle. How serene it seems this ancient mask.
Worthv those worn by certain ne\vh dead. True the light leaves to be desired. The lids occult the longed for eves. Time will tell them washen blue. Where tears perhaps not for nothing. Unimaginable tears of old. Lashes jet black remains of the brunette she was. Per
haps once was. When :-et a lass. Yet brunette.
