A century ago, on 13th April, Samuel Beckett was born in the south of Dublin. Ireland is thus marking the event with the Beckett Centenary Festival, which includes a variety of events, from his plays to readings and photographic exhibitions. The second celebration this week is the 90th anniversary of the Easter Rising, the first step in Ireland’s path to freedom from British rule. With the retreat of Catholicism from the daily lives of the people, Easter has been almost overtaken by these two events. Good Friday is still marked by a public holiday and the temporary shutdown of Dublin’s boisterous nightlife. This year, however, the Beckett and revolutionary fever will overshadow Easter and God. As Beckett said of the latter: “The bastard. He doesn’t exist.”

Beckett’s birth is not only being marked in Ireland, but everywhere around the world, not least in France, his adoptive country. In fact, his early works were written in French. Molloy, Malone Dies, and The Unnamable were all written in that language, as was his most celebrated work, Waiting for Godot. The irony is that his works failed to find a publisher at the beginning. When Waiting for Godot was first performed in a small theatre in Paris (then the home of radical theatre), critics were divided. Some derided it, others were marvelled. Two years ago, that first performance (on January 5 1953) was celebrated in Dublin, where the Gate Theatre owns the rights to Beckett’s works.

<B>Bafflement and derision</B>

That first production later led to the staging of its English version, a translation by the author himself. This version was again rejected by all in Britain, until it found its way to a young director who agreed to produce it. Peter Hall, reliving this moment 50 years later in the pages of The Guardian wrote that Waiting for Godot “returned theatre to its metaphorical roots. It challenged and defeated a century of literal naturalism where a room was only considered a room if it was presented in full detail, with the fourth wall removed”.

The play’s radical set, which is made of only a tree and an empty stage, would cement Beckett’s reputation as a minimalist. Again, the British critics were divided. Hall recalls that “bafflement and derision were everywhere”. He cites one critic who wrote: “Mr Samuel Beckett (an Irishman who used to be Joyce’s secretary and who writes in French, a combination which should make anybody smell a rat) has produced a really remarkable piece of twaddle.” Later, the critics came around to see the play for what it was; a revolution in theatre.

This constant rejection by publishers and critics alike prompted Beckett to later say “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” This represents an irony in the extravagant celebrations now marking his birth. Another important point about Beckett is the way he “protected” his plays, which has also led to his estate to extend the same severe guardianship over his works. Reportedly, after touring a couple of theatres which were producing his plays, Beckett was so outraged in the way they misinterpreted his works that he produced strict guidelines for their production. The set cannot be changed and neither can the costumes.

Recently, an Italian theatre company got into trouble for casting two women as Estragon and Vladimir, the lead roles in Waiting for Godot. Lawyers acting on behalf of Beckett’s estate took the company to court to prevent them in their enterprise, saying that the great playwright had never intended women to play the roles. However, the court allowed the play to continue citing gender equality, saying that the two women were being cast as males in the production, which does not violate the author’s moral rights.

However, such is the precision with which Beckett wrote stage directions in his plays that it is difficult to deviate away from them. One of his later plays, Rockaby, includes only a woman on a rocking chair, waiting for death to come. A tape plays on a loop and the actor repeats the same concluding phrase over and over again until she dies. The metronomic effect that Beckett instilled in the play is one no one would dare tamper with.

<B>Surviving on imitations</B>

The Beckett industry has been in full flow this year. The national radio and television stations are broadcasting the works that he scripted for these two media as well as the Beckett On Film series, produced a couple of years ago. Obviously, Waiting for Godot will get its customary outing as well as some of his other plays such as Krapp’s Last Tape with John Hurt. Michael Gambon, who had made the main role in Endgame his, played Eh Joe this time. There are also exhibitions of Irish photographer John Minihan’s portraits of Beckett.

Thus, Ireland is cashing in on one of its most famous sons, one who incidentally lived in exile from his native country. Unfortunately, in Mauritius, we are yet to develop such an area within the tourism industry. For one, we have consistently failed to nurture and support our own talents such that the culture industry in Mauritius has become stagnant, surviving mainly on imitations and small scale productions. The culture department within all governments has always been a façade for the promotion of religious festivals, which it continues to confuse with culture and the arts.

The argument that the country’s economic woes do not allow wholesale investment in the arts is nonsensical. Without long-term support, artistic activities will remain at the fringe and will never bloom, thus depriving the country of potential revenue in the future. And we should also be able to draw a line between real artistic and cultural achievements than ephemeral and shallow shows such as the Festival de la Mer.

<B>Diren Valayden</B> <I>Outlook Correspondent in Dublin</I>