"They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more"
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Samuel Beckett’s bleak vision of human existence finds powerful expression in the haunting image of being “born astride of a grave,” where the boundaries of life and death blur into one another from the very beginning. To be “astride of a grave” at birth immediately undermines the optimistic expectations typically associated with new life. Instead, Beckett suggests that our entrance into the world is already coupled with our inevitable exit. The grave is not a distant destination; it is present from the moment of arrival. The juxtaposition of birth and grave erases any temporal comfort, suggesting human life as a brief interlude between two states of darkness.
The phrase, “the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more,” compresses the entirety of human experience into a single, fleeting flash. Light, often symbolizing consciousness, vitality, or hope, is here diminished to a mere instant. Life, then, is not depicted as a long, developing journey, but rather an ephemeral moment briefly interrupting the overwhelming backdrop of night, symbolizing death, unknowingness, or oblivion. Beckett’s use of “gleams” reinforces the fragile, transient nature of existence; it is neither a steady beam nor a sun that endures, but a flicker, brittle and susceptible to immediate extinguishment.
In this context, the passage captures the existential dread and absurdity central to Beckett’s worldview. Human beings are trapped in a paradox, compelled to search for meaning within the confines of a temporality they cannot escape. All human endeavors, hopes, achievements, relationships, take place in the sliver of light between two vast darknesses. The night always waits, patient and inexorable, swallowing the light as soon as it appears. Beckett’s words do not offer solace or purpose. Instead, they reflect an unadorned confrontation with the brevity and futility inherent in the human condition, emphasizing the tragic beauty and absurdity of living with perpetual awareness of our mortality.
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Source | Samuel Beckett, 'Waiting for Godot', first performed 1953. Spoken by Pozzo in Act II. |
Tags | Night |
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