Beckett: portraits of the artist in exile

Roisin Kemp,Josephine Loftus

doi:10.1192/pb.21.10.656

Abstract

Samuel Beckett, Irish ex-patriate, depressive and master dramatist, won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1969. Two recent biographies (The Last Modernist (1996) by Anthony Cronin and the more sterile Damned to Fame (1996) by Professor James Knowlson) have helped to shed new light on the man and his work. A previous attempt by Deirdre Bair received little input or interest from her subject but is principally known for her exposA©of Beckett as a hero of the French resistance, dismissed by the latter as 'boy-scout stuff. Beckett's reluctance to wallow

Highlights

As can be imagined for one as introspective as Beckett, analysis was a painful process, and frequently left him more miserable; it seems he recovered more rapidly after the news of his first publication. Together with his psychiatrist friend, Geoffrey Thompson, he had visited the Royal Bethlem Hospital, and became fascinated by some of the patients, in particular a catatonic young man who spent every day waiting for his mother, dressed in a long coat and hobnailed boots, his legs stretched out in front of him with only his heels resting on the ground
The only time Cronin's book depicts him as being truly happy is after this incident-a Lazarus propped up in a hospital bed, glasses polished, surrounded by friends, with the double satisfac tion of introducing his mother to a solicitous James Joyce, by whom she was undoubtedly impressed
It was during his stay in hospital that he developed a close relationship with Suzanne Deschevaux-Dumesnils, a former ten dneisdipcaarttender,chwamhopwioans olaftehristowboercko.mBeechkisetwt'sifeeaanrldy poetry was frankly poor, both over-allusive and obscure, though recently more lyrical examples have been unearthed: jqeu'viloupdlerauivse qsuuer mleocnimaimtiÃourre meure eptleluersanrtuelcleeslleoquujie cvruaits m'aimer

Summary

Introduction

As can be imagined for one as introspective as Beckett, analysis was a painful process, and frequently left him more miserable; it seems he recovered more rapidly after the news of his first publication. Together with his psychiatrist friend, Geoffrey Thompson, he had visited the Royal Bethlem Hospital (cast as the Magdalen Mental Mercyseat in Murphy), and became fascinated by some of the patients, in particular a catatonic young man who spent every day waiting for his mother, dressed in a long coat and hobnailed boots, his legs stretched out in front of him with only his heels resting on the ground. From Molane Dies: The man has not yet come home.

Results

Conclusion