Vladimir's and Estragon's interactions with Godot, which should also be seen as an interpersonal relationship among dynamic characters, forms the basis for the tale's major themes.
Even with its bland unchanging set, clown-like characters, and seemingly meaningless theme, Waiting for Godot, arouses the awareness of human tragedy through the characters' tragic flaws.
Even within camps where Waiting for Godot is heralded, the lack of clarity and consensus brings about a tension and discussion that has lasted over sixty years....
With the explosion of scientific knowledge and the WWII bombs in the modernity epoch, the insignificance of our lives was realized; Samuel Becket staged the futility of human existence in the play Waiting for Godot.
-I'm waiting for Godot This little dialogue sums up this piece of Nobel prize winning author Samuel Beckett's most popular absurdist play, Waiting For Godot, which is one of the first examples of Theatre of the Absurd.
True to its title, Waiting for Godot is the tale of a pair of best friends known as Vladimir (Didi) and Estragon (Gogo) who are waiting for the character the audience comes to know as Godot to appear....
Written during late 1948 and early 1949 and premiered as a play in 1953 as En attendant Godot, Beckett coupled these devices with minimalism and absurdity in order to create the tragicomedy known to English speakers as Waiting for Godot.
The term “closure” according to Abott is “best understood as something we look for in narrative, as desire that authors understand and often expend art to satisfy or frustrate” (Abott, 57).In the play Waiting for Godot, the lack of closure is very evident through out it.
Along with Estragon and Vlamir comes Lucky and Pozzo another two figures who add a bit of nonsense into the play to distract the reader from the real issue, waiting for Godot.
Waiting for Godot was written to be a critical allegory of religious faith, relaying that it is a natural necessity for people to have faith, but faiths such as Catholicism are misleading and corrupt....
Tell him that you saw us… Didi pleads with the boy somewhere in the middle, a loaded line that gets reiterated towards the end in Waiting for Godot. I first saw the play some twenty years after it premiered in Paris and didn't understand it at all. Much later, I bought a paper-back copy of the work at W.H. Smith in Montreal, reading the play over and over again, still not understanding a bloody word. I was in my late twenties by then, and mightily pissed off with myself for not fathoming a famous piece of work, praised by critics the world over, inquiring timidly about its meaning among Irish friends, all literate theatre buffs, who spewed out near mystical explanations that also went over my head. Certainly the work is noble, tender, a Buster Keaton burlesque show, containing great lines like Thank you for your society, and something or other Gives us the feeling that we exist…which I now know to be a common French colloquialism.
The two main characters, Vladimir and Estragon, spend all their time sitting by a tree waiting for someone named Godot, whose identity is never revealed to the audience.
He suggests that one of the major constituents of human experience is boredom, indeed the very concept of ‘Waiting for Godot’ echoes this, and Beckett implies that much of life is spent waiting for something....
But now thirty years on, during a recent home visit to Canada, thanks to a PBS channel in my hotel room, and a broadcast celebrating the 50th anniversary of Godot, by Jove, I think I got it. Beckett demystified at last. And all because of Dublin's Gate Theatre production on film, produced not much more than three, perhaps four years earlier. Involving splendid actors who hadn't been born yet when the piece ran at the Babylon Theatre in Paris, yet able, would you believe it, to decipher this Godot enigma for me! Chapeau, dear Gate friends, chapeau dear Beckett, for in the end there's nothing to be afraid of or intimidated by, it's a down-to-earth play using simple, splendidly rhythmic language, written by a down-to-earth man about down-to-earth pre-occupations crossing everyone's mind at one point. Even though the work remains unsually structured, presented with all the tedium and repetitiveness that reflect large parts of life. Through a bleakness that threw me off for many years, like some scene from arid, outer space. A forbidding landscape, leading me to believe the play was about something else for if one thing is certain, and this is that Beckett's story takes place on this planet, not another. A world of ours, if anything, crowded, lush, diverse, not barren, empty, cold. Except for Tierra del Fuego or Siberia perhaps.