Dawning of the Age of ...


Was Godot a Rock Star Leader?


Some struggled long; some insinuated it was knowledge reserved to a few inner circle scholars; thus, through long years, no consensus arose as to the identity of Beckett’s ‘Godot’; except, of course, for the obvious entity suggested by the name; but we never thought of anything emanating from Beckett as ‘obvious’.

 Samuel Beckett’s ‘Waiting for Godot’ ends with the following:

Vladimir:  Well? Shall we go?

Estragon:  Yes, let's go.

They do not move.   

~~~~

May I share my thoughts?  I believe that they were waiting in fear of the coming of the age of the ‘Rock Star Leader’ who has finally entered stage right. A new breed; a menace.

This new Leader Model has taken upon himself a self-obsessed style that makes up the rules as it vapes in the highs of how far he can go - stretching the wings of arrogance wider than an eagle’s span.  I could shoot people in public and they would still love me…. Were we hearing things, we asked, in those early days, when we were giggly about him. I did not say ‘bigly’ – that was to come later.

He insults people when in a tight corner; cannot hide contempt for anyone daring to take him on; represents people but does not know the price of a carton of milk and tries to wriggle out of that truth; mimics those deemed inferior; steam rolls through groups of peers pushing forward to take centre stage; talks over opponents; belligerent- even trying to topple an opponent, at an election, who dare talk back, with an arm gripped around his neck in full view of the News cameras.; or he loudly delegates the sanction against protest to burly security people uttering threats of what he might do.

 His expressions give the game away; eyes revealing the ferment, the menace, and self-engrossment. His gait says it all: fickle, vacuous, mercurial, volatile.  

He uses his own language, at a whim, to come down to low levels and rally the devotees; or talk down with flurries of linguistic affectation to dazzle, daunt and bemuse… as long as it gets the headlines. Through all this there is the lingering self-congratulatory sneer; about to laugh at his own jokes, as if sniggering in anticipation of the headline that will follow what he is next about to say or do. He has a plan to promote himself. He dons recognizable eccentricities to set himself apart be that appearance, repetitive gestures, affected stutters, suits too small or large, falling down trousers or overly long ties.






Like a spoiled child or playground bully. ‘Pat a Cake’ - ‘Pat a Cake’ he plays banging the backs of fellow leaders to show dominance. You did two, I‘ll do another two. Knuckle duster handshakes will do it. Or maybe he needs to add a sawing gesture to tug at the forearm of a counterpart or colleague to undermine the other; he might even grip with the other hand – this fervour knows no bounds. After all, is it not the case that he has a history of valour and self-restraint to live up to throwing shapes (in the Irish Idiom)?


Horrible to contemplate: he will soon have his followers. ‘He is a Rock Star’; ‘a great success’; ‘a tough man’; ‘he is clever’ his fans bleat.  For he is unstoppable – knows no bounds. He can do many erratic things like write a measured article as to why some political step would be damaging and then head up the posse in its support. He can stand centre World Theatre Stage and spew out words like well I might revisit my decision to back out of that Treaty and, if I do, that will be good; and, well maybe, I might not; and if I don’t, well, that will be good too.  Upwards his fans gaze, happy on this bandwagon – camp followers.

He can lurch towards and clutch the shoulders of another Leader’s wife; ‘lean in’ close; give her appraisal stares and declare his verdict in full view - drawing on Beauty Queen Pageant acumen - showing he’s ‘been around’ and – of course – he would just as easily have insulted her had she overtly signalled displeasure, drawing from his larder laden with words to offend. 

He takes a political leader by her hand, walking down a slope, rather than support her, under her elbow, as we would all do. Of course, he is used to getting his own way – he can do anything to them; he said so.

On the global stage, despots and demons threaten the world we have to share. Famine, drought, unimagined hatred, cruelty and military zeal abound. The Rock Star Leader type is up early to get attention with outlandish utterances or ludicrous running apparel to hit the headlines when we wake ever hopeful that thinkers, normality, cool heads, peace makers, visionaries might have returned in the night…….

Back now to that question of ‘Godot’.

Fuelled by the uplifting lilts of the song "Aquarius - Let the Sunshine In" – there was a time when optimists thought it might all herald ‘The Age of Aquarius’ - an age of love, light, and humanity.  Although Astrologers scoffed at the lyrics as "astrological gibberish, there were feint hopes that we might be on the brink of the road to enlightenment.






What we do know is that Vladimir and Estragon were afraid of something and neither would leave alone.

Perhaps they were reluctant to move from the centre of that Beckett stage for fear that Godot might do worse and ‘Send in the Clowns’….

And now the Clowns have taken centre stage.



~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘True intelligence very readily conceives of intelligence superior to its own; and this is why truly intelligent men are modest.’

Andre Gide.




_____________________________

Paulyn Marrinan. Dublin. July 2017.




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