The Treatment Of Memory In Beckett`s Waiting For Godot And Happy Days

Memory is fundamentally the ability to recall and reinterpret the events of one's past. It frames and alters our comprehension of the human experience; it defines our understanding of time itself. Being a key component of what it is to be human it is hardly surprising that over the past century countless playwrights have utilised the concept of memory to substantialise their own views on humanity itself, but perhaps none have done so quite like Samuel Beckett. A novelist, poet, director and dramatist, Beckett was arguably most famous for his absurdist, nihilist plays, which attracted popular acclaim and sparked an uncommon amount of criticism, but none more so than 1953's Waiting for Godot, a translation of his French tragicomedy En attendant Godot. Waiting for Godot has, for many years, been the subject of fierce academic investigation and debate, being labelled by A. Alvarez as 'forbiddingly difficult and certainly becoming more difficult' (Alvarez, 23) and by Jane Seagar as 'one of the most. dauntingly challenging plays of the last century' (Seagar, 120). The play's absurdist tendencies that have been of continued interest to researchers and it is irrefutable that the human memory was of interest to Beckett - Brown notes that 'the functioning of memory fascinated Samuel Beckett throughout his long life' (Brown, 8) - so it makes sense to examine these two aspects of Waiting for Godot side by side. Moreover, when analysing Beckett's absurdist tendencies, it would be foolish not to consider the merit of Happy Days (1961), a play often noted for its subscri ption to the theatre of the absurd. As such, this discussion will focus on Beckett's treatment of memory in Waiting for Godot and Happy Days. Furthermore, it will question how closely Beckett's use of memory is attuned to the theatre of the absurd and how far he utilises memory in order to centre his plays in absurd worlds.

The idea of the absurd is a twentieth century philosophical movement which posits that the world is devoid of meaning or value and that it is essentially impossible to determine any overall purpose to life. Thus, playwrights occupied by the idea of absurdity were concerned with 'the human subconscious in depth, rather than trying to describe the outward appearance of human experience' (Esslin, 22) to borrow phrase from Martin Esslin. A key feature of the absurd, therefore, is action with no distinct phases - that is to say, no obvious beginning, middle or end - but instead a play that seems to circle back on itself infinitely. This is certainly true of Waiting for Godot, which lends itself to this idea in so far as the characters cannot remember the events of Act One during Act Two. Indeed, apart from Vladimir, no character remembers the events of the previous day: he exclaims that Estragon has 'forgotten everything' (Beckett, 56) including contemplating hanging themselves from the lone tree that populates the barren stage. Indeed, Gogo's memory is so bad that Brown comments that he actually fits all the symptoms for Alzheimer's disease, citing Beckett's fondness for imposing real illnesses onto his characters, but not explicitly telling his audience which disorders from which they suffer (Brown 19-20). Furthermore, later in the act, the 'abidingly self-absorbed' (Kaib, 175) and newly blind Pozzo appears not to remember the pair from the preceding day, asking 'who are you?' (Beckett, 76) when confronted with Vladimir's attempts to help him, and Estragon's attempts to rename him. Finally, when Godot's messenger reappears at the end of the day to once again instruct the men that Godot will arrive for them tomorrow, he has forgotten them entirely:

Vladimir: It wasn't you who came yesterday? Boy: No, sir. Vladimir: This is your first time? Boy: Yes, sir. (Beckett, 85)

The characters' disorientation in their bizarre immediate surroundings seems to be because of their inability to situate themselves due to their diminished memories, and their lack of memory seems to be symptomatic of the absurd world they live in. Moreover, their inability to recall the previous day leaves the audience wondering how many times Act One has actually occurred; the assumption that every act we see and assume has happened for the first time in the first half of the play is called into question, creating the possibility of an infinite regression of time, where Vladimir and Estragon have been waiting for Godot for longer than we can conceive of. Absurd theatre often creates a world without the formal structure of time that we understand and Beckett's treatment of memory seems to be one of the devices in this play that aids said creation. Indeed, as the audience becomes smothered in the repetitive nature of the drama it seems that there is impossible to escape the absurdist idea that there is no meaning to life, other than that which man imposes upon it. The men wait for Godot and so their lives mean nothing more than waiting and therefore the total absence of action, so when they declare that they will move in the final lines of the play but 'they do not move' (Beckett, 88) we are hardly surprised. Southern supposes that 'the audience should believe they will never truly move beyond their physical or psychological locations' (Southern, 24) and it is the absurd world that Beckett creates in his treatment of memory which makes this ring most true.

However, Southern goes on to argue that Vladimir's memory of the previous events 'undermines the otherwise perfectly realised circularity of the play and in doing so undermines the art of the theatre of the absurd' (Southern, 28) which is perhaps a little disingenuous. It is undeniable that as the only character in Waiting for Godot with a presumably fully functioning memory, Vladimir is the only character who can really be argued to have a conscious awareness of the world through his superior memory. Indeed, we may even go so far as to say that this conscious awareness separates a world of meaning from a world with none, and if Vladimir's world has meaning, might we agree with Southern and posit that he undermines the claim that memory is treated in such a way to enhance the play's standing as a part of absurdist theatre? Arguably not; the confusion and disorientation that Vladimir increasingly exhibits throughout Act Two is a direct response to the absurd world he is trapped in. It is only through his memory and awareness that he is led to such frustration that when interacting with the messenger boy he exclaims '[with sudden violence.] You're sure you saw me, you won't come and tell me tomorrow that you never saw me' (Beckett, 86). The imperative tone and stage direction indicating 'sudden violence' all show the audience the deterioration of Vladimir's already fragile mental stability. Additionally, Vladimir's memory gives the audience someone to empathise and identify with, and so as his memory leads him into perplexity the audience becomes perplexed with him. We begin to see the absurdist nature of the play through Vladimir's eyes and so we might conclude that Beckett's treatment of Vladimir's memory draws the audience into his absurd world with the characters. Moreover, there is a certain irony in the fact that it is Vladimir who realises the futility of their situation whilst it is his memory that keeps them tied to the task of waiting for Godot; Estragon repeatedly asks him what they are doing and Vladimir has to remind him of the task at hand. Watson argues that this quest gives their lives some semblance of meaning (150) but it is far more convincing to assert that by the end of the play, the audience is acutely aware that Godot will never come and thus it is irrelevant whether they have a goal - it can never be fully realised and thus their lives are meaningless. Beckett's treatment of memory here fits neatly into the absurdist view that life is both purposeless and futile.

This is, however, in stark contrast to Winnie in Happy Days. Whilst in Waiting for Godot, memory drives Vladimir towards an understanding of the futility of his situation, in Happy Days it seems that her memories distract Winnie from the same acknowledgement. Knowlson observes that Winnie is 'fitfully inspired by objects to hand which recall moments from the past' (Knowlson, 11) and in her recollection of the balls she'd been to and the men she's kissed she speaks 'reverently', frequently 'closes her eyes' and when discussing Charlie Hunter, speaks in a 'tone of fervent reminiscence; and exclaims 'Oh the happy memories!' (Beckett, 142) Dissimilarly from Vladimir in Waiting for Godot, Winnie's escape from the absurdity of her world seems to be directly correlated to her ability to recall memories of a distant past when her immediate surroundings made sense. It is also worth noting that her dialogue with Willie is interspersed with references to different works from the literary canon. Hinton identifies that Winnie makes reference to Shakespeare's Hamlet Act Two Scene One when she exclaims 'Woe woe is me. to see what I see' (Beckett, 153) and to Milton's Paradise Lost Book Three Line One when begins Act Two with 'Hail, holy light!' (Becket, 160) (Hinton, 13). It is interesting that Beckett makes the choice to include quotation from literary classics, and although there is undoubtedly much to be said about the specific choice of source material for Winnie's classical outbursts, it seems the salient point here is not what she quotes, but the fact that she quotes anything at all. If we assume that the sheer volume of such allusions - Hinton discovers twelve but acknowledges that there could well be more (Hinton, 14) - indicate that Winnie has at some time in her life memorised these passages and references then we can treat her conversational quotations in the same way we do her memory. The very act of speaking in quotation is to engage with memory and to recall the past - it is quite feasible that Winnie uses her memories of fairer times and stories that make sense to escape her present that makes very little sense to her. She tells Willie in Act One:

'That is what I find so wonderful, a past remains, of one's classics, to help one through the day.' (Beckett, 149)

And, as Hinton goes on to argue, it seems quoting literature is 'one of her chief weapons of defence in the endless game against time' (Hinton, 14-15). It seems that her escape through memory deadens her awareness of the suffering of existence and the instability of identity that are cornerstones of absurd theatre.

So, does Beckett's treatment of memory as a tool to pull his characters out of their absurd surroundings lessen the audience's appreciation of the absurd in Happy Days? Undoubtedly not, and there is a case to be made for saying that it actually heightens our appreciation of the absurdity of the world Winnie and Willie are trapped in. The incongruous juxtaposition between the happiness that Winnie's memories bring her and the misery and randomness of her present world is a relationship loaded with pathos. Southern argues that we, the audience 'pity Winnie the most when she is happy' (Southern, 41) and it is possible this is because she takes solace in a world that does not exist and, within the parameters that the play sets out for us, seems unlikely to ever come to fruition- especially when we consider the fact that Winnie and Willie's situation drastically worsens between Acts One and Two. We can certainly see a disparity between the way that memory is treated in Waiting for Godot and Happy Days: in the former it drives Vladimir towards an understanding of the futility of his situation and in the latter it distracts Winnie from the same realisation, but in both it has the same effect. That is, it enhances the view of the world that the characters exist in as entirely absurd. When we bear in mind the futility of memory and hope for Winnie the present becomes a sort of limbo where she is unable to act upon her fate, much like Vladimir and Estragon in Waiting for Godot, and her escaping her problems takes on a new poignancy. In both Waiting for Godot and Happy Days, memory is treated in such a way that it initially appears to be to the character's advantage; however, once we examine a little deeper it seems that it is just a way of reinforcing the dire, irrevocable and of course absurd nature of their respective situations.

We began by asking how Beckett treats memory in Waiting for Godot and Happy Days and we can conclude by asserting that memory, and more specifically what the characters remember and what they do not, aids the conception and full realisation of the absurd world that Beckett births through these plays. All in all, Waiting for Godot and Happy Days have one very important and often noted similarity which is the total lack of order or logic in not only the plot but in the characters of the plays themselves. In both plays, it is the only character with the exercised ability to cognitively remember and engage with the past in a meaningful way who drives the plot forward but more importantly who helps the reader to understand the absurd, nihilistic world in which the plays are framed. Although both plays do this in very different ways, it is ultimately to the same goal: to demonstrate to the audience a world without order, logic or reason. That is to say, both plays treat memory in such a way that the memories of the characters, or lack thereof, add to idea of Waiting for Godot and Happy Days both being absurd plays.

Works Cited Samuel Beckett. The Complete Dramatic Works. London: Faber and Faber; 2006. Print. Kaib, J. Beckett in Performance. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press; 1989. Print. Hinton, S. E.. The Faber Companion to Samuel Beckett. London: Faber and Faber; 2006. Print. Martin Esslin, ed.. Beckett: Twentieth Century Views. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press; 2004. Print. Alvarez, Alejandro. 'Scholarly Debts to Beckett's Modernism'. Journal of Modern Literature 35.4 (2012): 23-39. Print. Brown, A.. 'Happy Days and the Theatre of the Absurd'. The Modern Language Review 98.2 (2003): 1-21. Print Southern, C.. 'Beckett: Memory, Time and the Existential'. The Yearbook of English Studies 42 (2012): 23-49. Print