Stirrings still
Samuel Beckett
Stirrings still
One night as he sat at his table head on hands he saw himself rise and go. One night or day. For
when his own light went out he was not left in the dark. Light of a kind came from the one high
window. Under it still the stool on...
Samuel Beckett
Stirrings still
One night as he sat at his table head on hands he saw himself rise and go. One night or day. For
when his own light went out he was not left in the dark. Light of a kind came from the one high
window. Under it still the stool on which till he could or would no more he used to mount to see
the sky. Why he did not crane out to see what lay beneath was perhaps because the window was
not made to open or because he could or would not open it. Perhaps he knew only too well what
lay beneath and did not wish to see it again. So he would simply stand there high above the
earth and see through the clouded pane the cloudless sky. Its faint unchanging light unlike any
light he could remember from the days and nights when day followed hard on night and night
on day. This outer light then when his own went out became his only light till it in its turn went
out and left him in the dark. Till it in its turn went out.
One night or day then as he sat as his table head on hands he saw himself rise and go. First rise
and stand clinging to the table. Then sit again. Then rise again and stand clinging to the table
again. Then go. Start to go. On unseen feet start to go. So slow that only change of place to
show he went. As when he disappeared only to reappear later at another place again. Then
disappeared only to reappear later at another place again. So again and again disappeared again
to reappear again at another place again. Another place in the place where he sat at his table
head on hands. The same place and table as when Darly for example died and left him. As when
others too in their turn before and since. As when others would too in their turn and leave him
till he too in his turn. Head on hands half hoping when he disappeared again that he would not
reappear again and half fearing that he would not. Or merely wondering. Or merely waiting.
Waiting to see if he would or would not. Leave him or not alone again waiting for nothing
again.
Seen always from behind withersoever he went. Same hat and coat as of old when he walked
the roads. The back roads. Now as one in a strange place seeking the way out. In the dark. In a
strange place blindly in the dark of night or day seeking the way out. To the roads. The back
roads.
A clock afar struck the hours and half-hours. The same as when among others Darly once died
and left him. Strokes now clear as if carried by a wind now faint on the still air. Cries afar now
faint now clear. Head on hands half hoping when the hour struck that the half-hour would not
and half fearing that it would not. Similarly when the half-hour struck. Similarly when the cries
a moment ceased. Or merely wondering. Or merely waiting. Waiting to hear.
There had been a time he would sometimes lift his head enough to see his hands. What of them
was to be seen. One laid on the table and the other on the one. At rest after all they did. Lift his
past head a moment to see his past hands. Then lay it back on them to rest it too. After all it did.
The same place as when left day after day for the roads. The back roads. Returned to night after
night. Paced from wall to wall in the dark. The then fleeting dark of night. Now as if strange to
him seen to rise and go. Disappear and reappear at another place again. Or the same. Nothing to
show not the same. No wall toward which or further from. In the same place as when paced
from wall to wall all places as the same. Or in another. Nothing to show not another. Where
never. Rise and go in the same place as ever. Disappear and reappear in another where never.
Nothing to show not another where never. Nothing but the strokes. The cries. The same as ever.
Till so many strokes and cries since he was last seen that perhaps he would not be seen again.
Then so many cries since the strokes were last heard that perhaps they would not be heard
again. Then such silence since the cries were last heard that perhaps even they would not be
heard again. Perhaps thus the end. Unless no more than a mere lull. Then all as before. The
strokes and cries as before and he as before now there now gone now there again now gone
again. Then the lull again. Then all as before again. So again and again. And patience till the
one true end to time and grief and self and second self his own.
2
As one in his right mind when at last out again he knew not how he was not long out again
when he began to wonder if he was in his right mind. For could one not in his right mind be
reasonably said to wonder if he was in his right mind and bring what is more his remains of
reason to bear on this perplexity in the way he must be said to do if he is to be said at all? It was
therefore in the guise of a more or less reasonable being that he emerged at last he knew not
how into the outer world and had not been there for more than six or seven hours by the clock
when he could not but begin to wonder if he was in his right mind. By the same clock whose
strokes were heard times without number in his confinement as it struck the hours and half-
hours and so in a sense at first a source of reassurance till finally one of alarm as being no
clearer now than when in principle muffled by his four walls. Then he sought help in the
thought of one hastening westward at sundown to obtain a better view of Venus and found it of
none. Of the sole other sound that of cries enlivener of his solitude as lost to suffering he sat at
his table head on hands the same was true. Of their whenceabouts that is of clock and cries the
same was true that is no more to be determined now than as was only natural then. Bringing to
bear on all this his remains of reason he sought help in the thought that his memory of indoors
was perhaps at fault and found it of none. Further to his disarray his soundless tread as when
barefoot he trod the floor. So all ears from bad to worse till in the end he ceased if not to hear to
listen and set out to look about him. Result finally he was in a field of grass which went some
way if nothing else to explain his tread and then a little later as if to make up for this some way
to increase his trouble. For he could recall no field of grass from even the very heart of which
no limit of any kind was to be discovered but always in some quarter or another some end in
sight such as a fence or other manner of bourne from which to return. Nor on his looking more
closely to make matters worse was this the short green grass he seemed to remember eaten
down by flocks and herds but long and light grey in colour verging here and there on white.
Then he sought help in the thought that his memory of outdoors was perhaps at fault and found
it of none. So all eyes from bad to worse till in the end he ceased if not to see to look (about him
or more closely) and set out to take thought. To this end for want of a stone on which to sit like
Walther and cross his legs the best he could do was stop dead and stand stock still which after a
moments hesitation he did and of course sink his head as one deep in meditation which after
another moment of hesitation he did also. But soon weary of vainly delving in those remains he
moved on through the long hoar grass resigned to not knowing where he was or how he got
there or where he was going or how we was going to get back to whence he knew not how he
came. So on unknowing and no end in sight. Unknowing and what is more no wish to know nor
indeed any wish of any kind nor therefore any sorrow save that he would have wished the
strokes to cease and the cries for good and was sorry that they did not. The strokes now faint
now clear as if carried by the wind but not a breath and the cries now faint now clear.
3
So on till stayed when to his ears from deep within oh how and here a word he could not catch
it were to end where never till then. Rest then before again from not long to so long that perhaps
never again and then faint from deep within oh how and here that missing word again it were to
end where never till then. In any case whatever it might be to end and so on was he not already
as he stood there all bowed down and to his ears faint from deep within again and again oh how
something and so on was he not so far as he could see already there where never till then? For
how could even such a one as he having once found himself in such a place not shudder to find
himself in it again which he had not done nor having shuddered seek help in vain in the thought
so-called that having somehow got out of it then he could somehow get out of it again which he
had not done either. There then all this time where never till then and so far as he could see in
every direction when he raised his head and opened his eyes no danger or hope as the case
might be of his ever getting out of it. Was he then now to press on regardless now in one
direction and now in another or on the other hand stir no more as the case might be that is as
that missing word might be which if to warn such as sad or bad for example then of course in
spite of all the one and if the reverse then of course the other that is stir no more. Such and
much more such the hubbub in his mind so-called till nothing left from deep within but only
ever fainter oh to end. No matter how no matter where. Time and grief and self so-called. Oh all
to end.
本文档为【Stirrings still】,请使用软件OFFICE或WPS软件打开。作品中的文字与图均可以修改和编辑,
图片更改请在作品中右键图片并更换,文字修改请直接点击文字进行修改,也可以新增和删除文档中的内容。
[版权声明] 本站所有资料为用户分享产生,若发现您的权利被侵害,请联系客服邮件isharekefu@iask.cn,我们尽快处理。
本作品所展示的图片、画像、字体、音乐的版权可能需版权方额外授权,请谨慎使用。
网站提供的党政主题相关内容(国旗、国徽、党徽..)目的在于配合国家政策宣传,仅限个人学习分享使用,禁止用于任何广告和商用目的。