Calm slab worn and
polished
by agelong comings and goings.
Samuel Beckett
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
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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
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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.
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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
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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.
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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. Skipping the nose at the call of the lips these no sooner broached are withdrawn. The slab having darkened with the
darkening sky. Black night henceforward. And at
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dawn an empt:- place. With no means' of knowing whether she has gone in or under cover of darkness her wa:-s agam.
White stones more plentiful ever: :-ear. As well sa: every- instant. In a fair wa:- if the:- persist to bur: all. First zone rather more extensive than at first sight ill seen and every veal' rather more. Of striking effect in
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the light of the moon these millions of little sepulchres. But in her absence but cold comfort. From it then in the end to the second miscalled pastures. Leprous with white scars where the grass has receded from the
chalky soil. In contemplation of this erosion the e:e
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fmds solace. EYer:-,dH'1'(' ,. ;lon(' i,. ; gaining. Whit('n(',. ;,. ;.
More anel more eH'n ,ear. ,\s ,,-dl say ('ven instant.
EY er"dwrp PYl'n instanl ,,-hitl'w's,,; is gaml1la.
•r
The t'W ,,-ill return to the scene of its betraval,. ;. On centennial leaH' from ,,-here tears freeze. Fre(~ again an instant to shed thl:'m scalding. On the blest tears once
G
sheel. While (~xultingat the ,,-hite heap of stone. Ever heaping for ,,-ant of better on itself. Which if it persist "ill gain th<' skies. TIl(-' moon. Vt'nus.
From the stones sIll:' steps down into the pastures. As from one tier of a circus to the next. A gap time will fill. For faster than the stones invade it the other ground upheaves its own. So far in silence. A silence time will break. This great silence evening and night. Then all along the verge the muffled thud of stone on stone. Of those spilling their excess on those emergent. Onh- now and then at first. Then at ever briefer inter vals. Till one continuous din. With none to hear. De creasing as the levels draw together to silence once again. Evening and night. In the meantime she is sud-
denly sitting with her feet in the pastures. Were it not for the empty hands on the way who knows to the tomb. Back from it then more likely. On the way back from the tomb. Frozen true to her wont she seems turned to stone. Face to the further confines the eve closes in vain to see. At last they appear an instant.
North where she passes them always. Shroud of radiant haze. Where to melt into paradise.
The long white hair stares in a fan. Above and about the impassive face. Stares as if shocked still by some ancient horror. Or by its continuance. Or by another. That leaves the face stone-cold. Silence at the eve of the scream. Which sa)-? III sa)-. Both. All three. Ques tion answered.
Seated on the stones she is seen from behind. From the waist up. Trunk black rectangle. Nape under frill of black lace. White half halo of hair. Face to the north. The tomb. E)-es on the horizon perhaps. Or closed to
see the headstone. The withered crocuses. Endless
evening. She lit aslant bv the last rays. Thev make no L•
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difference. None to the black of the cloth. None to the
white hair. It too dead still. In the still air. Voidlike
calm as alwa:-s. Evening and night. Suffice to watch the
grass. How motionless it droops. Till under the relent
less eye it shivers. With faintest shiver from its inner
most. Equall:- the hair. Rigidl:- horrent it shivers at
last for the eye about to abandon. And the old body o0
itself. When it seems of stone. Is it not in fact ashiver from head to foot? Let her but go and stand still b) the other stone. It white from afar in the pastures. And the e:-e go from one to the other. Back and forth. What calm then. And what storm. Beneath the weeds' mock calm.
Nat possible an! - longer except as figment. Not endurable. Nothing for it but to close the e:-e for good and see her. Her and the rest. Close it for good and all and see her to death. Unremittent. In the shack. Over the stones. In the pastures. The haze. At the tomb. And back. And the rest. For good and all. To death. Be shut of it all. On to the next. Next figment. Close it for good this filthv eve of flesh. What forbids? Careful.
Such--sncll fiasco that follY takes a hand. Such bits and scraps. Seen no matter how and said as seen. Dread of black. Of white. Of void. Let her vanish. And the rest. For good. And the sun. Last rays. And the
moon. And Yenus. :'-iothing left but black sks. \:I/hit('
earth. Or inverselY, No more sky or earth. Finished
high and 10\\. '\othing but lllack and ·white. EYen- LL.
where no matter where. But black. Void. Nothinfr l,ls('. Contemplate that. Not another word. Home at last. Genth frenth.
Panic past pass on. The hands. Seen from ahoY<'.
They rest on the pubis intertwined. Strident whitl',
Tl1('ir faintly leaden tinge killed by the black ground.
•L-•l,
Suspicion of lace at the wrists. To go \\-ith tIll' frill. The\ tighten then loosen their clasp. Slow systole diastole. And the body that scandal. While its sole hands in vie\\-. On its sale pubis. Dead still to he Surl', On the chair. After the spectacle. Slowh its spell un binding. On and on the:- keep. Tifrhtening and loosen
ing their clasp. Rhythm of a lalJOuring heart. Till \\hl'n almost despairt'd of genth part. Smldenh [Il'nth.
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Spreading rise and in midair palms uppermost cOille
to the mira<T"? And where '\! Wll sIlt' halts'? Tht' ev,:, llis
~.
cerns afar a kind of stain. Finallv the steep roof wh"nc{' part of the fresh fall has slid. Ullller the low lowering sky the north is los1. Obliterated b\ the snow th"
twelve arc there. Invisibll~ WlTC sht' to raisl' ht'r ('\ She on th" contran immaculatl'1 \ black. 0l at having received a single flake. Nothing neelkcl now but for
them to start falling again \\-hich therefon' they do.
