January 28, 2003

"Molloy" by Samuel Beckett: This first installment of Mr. Beckett's acclaimed trilogy, which also includes "Malone Dies" and "The Unnamable," is a very difficult book to rate. But before we address interpretations, let's set the table.

"Molloy" is comprised of two sections, both narrated in the first person and employing stream of consciousness. The first is told by Molloy, an aging, sickly, hobbled criminal that has been apprehended and confined to a bedroom where he is being paid to write. So he does. Molloy recounts the recent events that led to his current situation, all centering around his determined journey to find his mother.

The second section is told by Jacques Moran, an agent sent to capture Molloy and bring him to justice. Moran, a cold man and abusive father, sets out on his own journey, bringing along his teenage son. The two never find Molloy. Moran's son abandons him. The agent, ailing and injured, barely finds his way back home.

That's the general plot; criminal on the run, detective chasing him. At least that's the way everyone writes it up. This humble reviewer sees things differently. And that's the rub! But before we get into all that, it should be mentioned that plot is practically an afterthought in this experiment of style. Molloy's section is one long uninterrupted paragraph. It's not for those that like chapter breaks or the occasional blank line. The mind is exposed. Mr. Beckett delves into the inner workings of man, examining the natures of thought, reality, and existence. Hey, that's never easy. Of course, obvious comparisons to the "Odyssey" and the Christ story can be found in the wanderings of both men. But it's best to leave such things to the pedants among us. Let them study the trees while we roam the joyful depths of the forest.

And if that's all it were, "Molloy" would still be required reading for its unique voice and existential themes. But what I can't understand is why everyone, or at least all the summaries and critiques that I've read, see the story simply as a criminal fleeing and the detective giving pursuit. There is no Molloy. Well, there is a Molloy, but it's not Molloy that is telling the first section of the novel. That Molloy is Moran. Yeah, that's right. You heard me. Moran is Molloy. Now I'm sure everyone else out there already knows this, and I've probably just encountered the few people that don't grasp this painfully obvious truth, but it has been quite infuriating nevertheless. It's like walking down the street on a sunny day and seeing everyone around you carrying umbrellas.

Moran is Molloy. The first section of the book actually occurs after the second. Moran becomes so obsessed with his failure to capture the mysterious Molloy that it allows his own mental illness, which is clearly taking shape during the second section, to overtake him. The story related in section one picks up after Moran has squandered his former life and fallen prey to madness. And that, my friends, is brilliant.

If you're of the poor disillusioned lot that never saw Moran as Molloy, read the book armed with this new knowledge and see for yourself the life it breathes. My interpretation can be fortified by mounds of evidence culled from the text. That's why it was so bizarre for me to discover no trace of Molloy being identified as Moran in any other relevant discussions. And I don't care if the ghost of Mr. Beckett himself comes to me and says I'm wrong, I'll convince him otherwise. Because if Molloy is simply Molloy, then this is an interesting little book and nothing else, but Moran being Molloy makes it magnificent.

Read and decide for yourself.

RATING:

"Mercier and Camier" by Samuel Beckett: The idea of a journey also serves as the basis for Mr. Beckett's "Mercier and Camier."

Camier, a short, chubby private eye, and Mercier, his tall, gaunt, bearded buddy, are planning to hit the road together, leaving the town and all its concerns behind. Unfortunately, their travels are beset by travails at every turn, with the temptations of pubs and prostitutes proving far too powerful. The comical duo also must contend with constantly misplacing their few meager possessions, consisting of a knapsack, bicycle, and umbrella. It's kind of like "Abbot and Costello Do France"... or Ireland... or wherever the hell they're supposed to be. Locations and details aren't vital to this tale of failed escape.

While boasting generous amounts of humor, the story also has its serious side, including the pathos of a broken home and the dark touch of murder. This really isn't anything of tremendous importance, and pales in comparison to the weight of "Molloy," but it's still a pleasant read and further illustrates Mr. Beckett's skill as he looks at loyalty, friendship, and the ties that bind.

RATING: