Indeed, Hamm's routines are all futile (38, 44). As in many of Beckett's plays, routines are what humans perform to convince themselves that death is not imminent, that each day is the same. Ironically, the empty, absurd practices only push them closer to death. In the "endgame" of his life, Hamm is only partially reconciled to death—he wants it to come, but he admits that he "hesitate[s]" to "finish." (Beckett 3) The routines fill this middle ground, staving off death while drawing it ever closer. Both men question why they put up with each other, and at one point Hamm suggests that Clov help him out of compassion. The real reason is that both are dependent on each other (8- 14) and afraid to leave and be alone, despite their constant threats. The play takes a surprisingly moving turn here at the end when both men sincerely thank eachother gratefully for their services before Clov's departure (4, 6), but after Clov has returned (25), unbeknownst to Hamm, we get the feeling that they will be back at square one tomorrow.
The "endgame" in chess stands for a series of moves at the end of the game, one whose outcome is usually decided before the ceremony of the endgame occurs. Beckett was a chess player and, in Endgame, compared the chess concept to the endgame of life, in which death is the inevitable outcome. The characters—or actors—enact repetitive rituals that are part of their endgame. Like a losing player who drags his piece through the final moves even though his demise is now inevitable, the characters make routines out of their lives and do whatever it takes to get through one more day, one more move, even though the game is lost and has lost whatever appeal it may have once had. Beckett puts the motif of chess in accordance with certain movements on stage. Hamm, who every now and then utters the line, "Me to play," (18, 96,98) can be perceived as the King, the most powerful and yet the most vulnerable piece on the board. His movement is rather restricted, and he relies on Clov for protection in the centre. Clov might be considered as the figure of the Queen, since he can move more easily than anyone else, but his erratic, staggering way of walking is more suitable to the L-shaped movement of the Knight, whereas Nagg and Nell are relatively insignificant and valueless Pawns, appearing nearly only when the King calls for them. Nell's death seems to hardly disturb him. The chess theme (18, 20, 40, 96,98) emphasises Beckett's idea of a repetitive, cyclical universe: the play ends with a stalemate (40), a game no one has won and which will be played over and over again; endlessy (105).
Words: 721
Exerpt:
- CLOV:
- This is what we call making an exit.
- HAMM:
- I'm obliged to you, Clov. For your services.
-
CLOV: (turning sharply):
- Ah pardon, it's I am obliged to you.
-
HAMM:
- It's we are obliged to each other.
-
(Pause. Clov goes towards door.)
- One thing more.
-
(Clov halts.)
- A last favor.
-
(Exit Clov.)
- Cover me with the sheet.
-
(Long pause.)
- No? Good.
-
(Pause.)
- Me to play.
-
(Pause. Wearily.)
- Old endgame lost of old, play and lose and have done with losing.
-
(Pause. More animated.)
- Let me see.
-
(Pause.)
- Ah yes!
-
(He tries to move the chair, using the gaff as before. Enter Clov, dressed for the road. Panama hat, tweed coat, raincoat over his arm, umbrella, bag. He halts by the door and stands there, impassive and motionless, his eyes fixed on Hamm, till the end. Hamm gives up:)
- Good.
-
(Pause.)
- Discard.
-
(He throws away the gaff, makes to throw away the dog, thinks better of it.)
- Take it easy.
-
(Pause.)
- And now?
-
(Pause.)
- Raise hat.
-
(He raises his toque.)
- Peace to our... arses.
-
(Pause.)
- And put on again.
-
(He puts on his toque.)
- Deuce.
-
(Pause. He takes off his glasses.)
- Wipe.
-
(He takes out his handkerchief and, without unfolding it, wipes his glasses.)
- And put on again.
-
(He puts on his glasses, puts back the handkerchief in his pocket.)
- We're coming. A few more squirms like that and I'll call.
-
(Pause.)
- A little poetry.
-
(Pause.)
- You prayed—
-
(Pause. He corrects himself.)
- You CRIED for night; it comes—
-
(Pause. He corrects himself.)
- It FALLS: now cry in darkness.
-
(He repeats, chanting.)
- You cried for night; it falls: now cry in darkness.
-
(Pause.)
- Nicely put, that.
-
(Pause.)
- And now?
-
(Pause.)
- Moments for nothing, now as always, time was never and time is over, reckoning closed and story ended.
-
(Pause. Narrative tone.)
- If he could have his child with him...
-
(Pause.)
- It was the moment I was waiting for.
-
(Pause.)
- You don't want to abandon him? You want him to bloom while you are withering? Be there to solace your last million last moments?
-
(Pause.)
- He doesn't realize, all he knows is hunger, and cold, and death to crown it all. But you! You ought to know what the earth is like, nowadays. Oh I put him before his responsibilities!
-
(Pause. Normal tone.)
- Well, there we are, there I am, that's enough.
-
(He raises the whistle to his lips, hesitates, drops it. Pause.)
- Yes, truly!
-
(He whistles. Pause. Louder. Pause.)
- Good.
-
(Pause.)
- Father!
-
(Pause. Louder.)
- Father!
-
(Pause.)
- Good.
-
(Pause.)
- We're coming.
-
(Pause.)
- And to end up with?
-
(Pause.)
- Discard.
-
(He throws away the dog. He tears the whistle from his neck.)
- With my compliments.
-
(He throws the whistle towards the auditorium. Pause. He sniffs. Soft.)
- Clov!
-
(Long pause.)
- No? Good.
-
(He takes out the handkerchief.)
- Since that's the way we're playing it...
-
(he unfolds handkerchief)
- ...let's play it that way...
-
(he unfolds)
100..and speak no more about it... (he finishes unfolding)
101.speak no more.
102.(He holds handkerchief spread out before him.)
103.Old stancher!
104.(Pause.)
- .You... remain.
106.(Pause. He covers his face with handkerchief, lowers his arms to armrests, 107. remains motionless.)
-
(Brief tableau.)
- Curtain
Work Cited:
Beckett, Samuel. Endgame and Act Without Words. New York: Grove Press, 1958.