Watt – Samuel Beckett (1945)
NUMBER: 72
Genre: Fiction; Origin: Ireland; Pages: 250
Satisfaction rating: 6.0
OVERVIEW:
Watt is a highly idiosyncratic portrait of a man who is himself the embodiment of a number of ideas and outlooks. The various combinations and permutations of Watt’s encounters with a strange gallery of characters and the experiences in serving the elusive Mr Knott are the stuff of comedy, but underneath the humour the author is constantly making points about philosophic outlooks and human possibilities.
MATTHEW’S COMMENTS:
I have been keen to read some Beckett after catching a one-made stage version of his short story First Love at the 2007 Sydney Festival (starring Ralph Fiennes). I honestly think that this performance cemented me as a Beckett fan. So it has taken me some time but I found Watt in a second hand store and the moment had come.
Having read Watt I now can say I have a love/hate relationship with Beckett. Some will argue that there are more than just flashes of brilliance in this work, but I have to say it is patchy at best. As Watt travels to Mr Knotts house and then there spends two years as his servant he encounters an unusual range of characters, all the while Becketts trademark poetic prose present their unique challenge. Many parts of the story (his arrival at Mr Knotts, friendship with the ‘narrator’ and his ultimate departure) are very confusing, this may be due to my reading of these sections on public transport and possibly Beckett’s work require a more holistic dedication. That said, I love other parts, in particular the complicate method of disposing Mr Knott’s left overs.
Of course people will have a varied reaction to his repetitious writing of events (’Here he stood. Here he sat. Here he knelt. Here he lay. Here he moved, to and fro, from the door to the window, from the window to the door; from the window to the door; from the door to the window… from the fire to the bed, from the bed to the fire’). Annoying at times and tempting to skip over (which I did do a couple of times), it is also often lyrical. I’ll admit that I don’t think I fully appreciated it until I read some passages allowed, not a common thing to do on a train.
Overall it is hard to judge, similar to Woolf’s Jacob’s Room I appreciate the experimentation and even if the work is a challenge and only somewhat successful in my mind, it is still alluring. I will return to Beckett.
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