Evan Long Ma | CCCF-SHU 101W13-001 (Perspectives on the Humanities: Public Moralists) | Paul Andrew Woolridge |November 29^th, 2017Nietzsche, Deicide, and how Beckett might Not be so Bleak after all

            Samuel Beckett’s one-act play, Endgame, depicts a very sobering post-apocalyptic setting in which its inhabitants have nothing to hope for but to wait for death. Their days seem to repeat with no end, but unlike Friedrich Nietzsche’s eternal recurrence which brings about the hope to strive to become an ubermensch, these characters have just collapsed and are now in their endgame. Clov and the others do represent failed ubermensches in many ways, but after Clov exits, his leaving Hamm (to die) could be seen as his departing on a new journey, to another realm, trying to find his own meaning for life and become an ubermensch. In that sense, oddly enough Endgame would represent a bleak, yet hopeful view of current society, where we can hope to become something more only if we leave behind old values (Hamm) and move on into the unknown (Clov exiting).

            In essence, clinging onto old endgame values offer some comfort in familiarity, but no intrinsic meaning or chance to grow into something more (Clov: “Mean something! … [Brief laugh.] Ah that’s a good one!”, (Beckett 42)). To not be able to care more for your parents than just putting them in ashbins, and to be so numbed as to barely acknowledge the death of your mother, this endgame they are in has no future. Clov, although knowing no other way of life, can tell there is no hope there, and finally decides to leave that world. Exiting to the other side, Clov essentially crosses into the void, purging all past connections, entering a whitespace. As unknown territory, there is no telling whether Clov will survive in the new environment, but at least there is a chance to strive to become an ubermensch.

            Hamm seems to be insistent that “Outside of here it’s death!” (75), yet his mention of the madman (akin to Nietzsche’s) and acknowledgement that “the case is . . . was not so . . . so unusual” (51) shows that Hamm does believe that God has died, but is not hopeful enough to make an exit, like Clov eventually does. In fact, under the surface of apathy and depression, Clov does show signs of hope in the play. After praying fruitlessly to God, Hamm swears “The bastard! He doesn’t exist!”, to which Clov replies, “Not yet”, possibly foreshadowing his exit and eventual path to become an ubermensch to prescribe values for himself (62).

            Before Clov exits, the current situation of the characters is bleak and rock-bottom, which could be interpreted somewhat as the bottom portion of Zarathustra’s going under (The Gay Science, 275). Clov’s exit could be a rise from the bottom, or perhaps an even further fall towards the under (temporary or permanent), but even if he fails, his action is still noble, like the tight-rope walker who “made danger [his] calling, [in which] there is nothing in that to despise” (Zarathustra, 48).

            The mention of a madman by Beckett is specifically analyzed by Thomas Dilworth & Christopher Langlois in “The Explicator” as strategic placement directly alluding to the Nietzschean madman. The importance of centricity is hinted by Beckett with Hamm’s continual wish to be placed “right in the center” (Beckett, 35/36/80), and his remark “I prefer the middle” following Clov proclaiming that “The end is terrific!” (Endgame, 55). Being textually placed around the center of the play, Dilworth and Langlois infer that Beckett is signaling the importance of the madman, being otherwise anomalous, as “it is unlike Hamm to have had a friend or to have visited anyone” (Dilworth, 167). As a prophetic madman resembling that of Nietzsche’s in The Gay Science, Beckett seems to be constructing a Nietzschean world where “God is dead” is the backdrop, and sets up his character’s reality as the bleak foreground, attempting to “[establish] his play as thoroughgoing contradiction of the Nietzschean optimism about the putative nonexistence of God” (Dilworth, 168). Indeed, Nietzsche’s madman runs amok, crying out his thoughts early morning at the market, and then forces his way into several churches, beginning his “requiem aeternam deo” or mourning for the eternal slumber of God (The Gay Science, 181-182).

            The madman Hamm mentions indeed echoes that of Nietzsche’s, but as Dilworth & Langlois analyzed in “The Explicator”, Beckett’s madman rather than being proactive, shouting at his fellow humans, inquiring on what their next step shall be, instead simply retreats to a corner in his room, seeing nothing but ashes, falling into despair. Considering the downtrodden condition of the other characters, their reading of Endgame as a world of failed ubermensches is fundamentally correct, but I disagree that it merely “amounts to a discouraging version of Nietzsche’s hypothesis of eternal return” (Dilworth, 170). Endgame is indeed a bleak depiction of what could be (or perhaps what is already well on its way), but Clov’s exit signals a departure from old tradition and a chance to grow into something new. It is this pivotal point that shifts the entire story from sad to hopeful, and shows how Beckett’s optimism for our world actually isn’t that far from Nietzsche’s. Beckett’s entire set up is to illustrate our current situation, and the payoff is to illustrate how we can move on from here, by exiting that realm and moving forward, thinking “outside of the box”. His entire motive for writing Endgame, perhaps, could be as a wake-up call for the audience, and for humanity, that we should not sleep on Nietzsche’s madman, that Nietzsche’s once enthusiastic madman is now wasting away in the corner of a character’s reminiscence in Beckett’s play, and that it is our turn to wake him up (perhaps within ourselves) and march forward towards ubermenschdom.

            Stanley Cavell’s reimagining of the characters as those in the myth of Noah’s Ark is another intriguing and interesting way to view Endgame. By envisioning Hamm, Clov, Nagg and Nell as a family on an ark (for which there is ample evidence to support), them wasting away could be interpreted as giving up on the world and wishing for it to die, contrary to God’s wishes. Looking out their windows with a telescope, at earth on one side and sea on another, seems to suggest a beached ark (Cavell, 138), where Hamm and the others are the last generation, simply waiting for a raven (or gull) to indicate that there is habitable land (as that nearby doesn’t prove to be able to sprout anything). Endgame becomes a story of what could have been if they never found habitable land, simply waiting for eternity. With this framing it becomes clear that Hamm is the despaired progeny who knows nothing other than this emptiness, and furious at being put up with the responsibility of saving/restarting the world, wishes to end it all. Clov leaving would then be the ambiguous hope that eventually some arable, habitable land would be found. Cavell also interprets the lines “Hamm: The bastard! He doesn’t exist! Clov: Not yet”, to not proclaim that God is dead or that Clov must leave on a journey to become an ubermensch, but that since the myth of Noah’s ark occurred in the old testament, and Jesus was a bastard child, that it is simply serves as a reference to their time period, further strengthening the ties to Noah’s ark (Cavell, 146-147). Hamm’s earlier thought of having Clov build a raft to venture south both doubles as a further hint towards the connection to Noah’s ark (Beckett, 43), and also can be interpreted as the act of considering new ways of thinking and thought (which Hamm proves unable to do, when he abandons this idea promptly after formulation) (Dilworth, 170). The corpsed land (or “Zero”) would then transform from an emptiness caused by the absence of meaning with God’s absence, into instead a land which God purposely flooded to purge all sin (similar to Clov’s attempt to exit and purge all old life), and finally into a land where they are doubtful of the return to normalcy or existence of arable land, thus cursing God (though possibly being hopeful of the bastard to come, Jesus, who might save them). In this case, Clov’s departure is still hopeful, one in search of a place where humanity can be started again.

            Nearing the end of Endgame, another anomalous event occurs. A boy appears out of nowhere, seeming to challenge the ideals of the characters. Clov’s first impression is to go check on it, while Hamm orders him to stop, saying it doesn’t matter, since he would either come to them, or simply die outside anyhow (Beckett, 82). Clov is unsure though, and in this sense, still hopeful for the future. The boy can be connected to the idea of the child in Zarathustra’s first discourse Of the Three Metamorphoses, where the child is the last stage in a sequence of transformations towards becoming a fully realized ubermensch, from a camel, to a lion, and finally to a child (Zarathustra, 54-55). This hope to become an ubermensch calls out to Clov, eventually luring him away from Hamm, who in his negativity (and in their master/slave relationship) rejects any hope for the future and restrains Clov from leaving to form something new. This sense of control over Clov dominates his entire thinking, causing him to have thoughts like “I feel too old, and too far, to form new habits. Good, it’ll never end, I’ll never go” (84), but eventually, he manages to break free, and gravitates towards the hope for humanity that is the boy outside.

            Metafictively, Clov’s exit could also be seen as him exiting the bleak setting of Endgame, and returning back to the realm of our society (where he would then begin his under/over-going), as a call-to-arms that we need to strive to become something great so as to improve society lest we fall into the endgame as depicted in the play (or perhaps that we are in that endgame, and now we must act to escape it). Hamm’s throwing of his whistle to the audience symbolizes him giving away his power or authority as the captain of the ship, and declaring that now it is in our, the audience’s hands to decide whether we will continue this cycle of master/slave relationships as the master, or seek out to build something positive and new, like Clov aspires by exiting the stage. Endgame can be thus seen as a hopeful parable about being open to new experiences or interpretations of being, and finding the courage to take that first step towards positive transformation.

Works Cited

Beckett, Samuel. Endgame: A Play in One Act; Followed by, Act Without Words I: A Mime for One Player. Translated by Samuel Beckett, Grove Press, 2009.

Cavell, Stanley. “Ending the Waiting Game: A READING OF BECKETT'S ENDGAME.” Must We Mean What We Say?: A Book of Essays, Cambridge Univ. Press, 2008, pp. 115–162.

Dilworth, Thomas & Christopher Langlois (2007) The Nietzschean Madman in Beckett's Endgame, The Explicator, 65:3, 167-171, DOI: 10.3200/EXPL.65.3.167-171

Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Gay Science, with a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs. Translated by Walter Kaufmann, Vintage Books, 1974.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. Thus Spoke Zarathustra: A BOOK FOR EVERYONE AND NO ONE. Translated by Reginald John Hollingdale, Penguin Books, 1988.