Free The Unnamable by Samuel Beckett Page A

solitary, in my image, wishes
     me well, poor devil, wishes my good, and if he does not seem to do very much in order
     not to be disappointed it is because there is not very much to be done or, better
     still, because there is nothing to be done, otherwise he would have done it, my great
     and good master, that must be it, long ago, poor devil. Another supposition , he has taken the necessary steps, his will is done as far as I am concerned (for
     he may have other protégés) and all is well with me without my knowing it. Cases one
     and two. I’ll consider the former first, if I can. Then I’ll admire the latter, if
     my eyes are still open. This sounds like one of Malone’s anecdotes. But quick, consider,
     before you forget. There he is then, the unfortunate brute, quite miserable because of me, for whom there is nothing to be done, and he
     so anxious to help, so used to giving orders and to being obeyed. There he is, ever
     since I came intothe world, possibly at his instigation, I wouldn’t put it past him, commanding me
     to be well, you know, in every way, no complaints at all, with as much success as
     if he were shouting at a lump of inanimate matter. If he is not pleased with this panegyric I hope I may be – I nearly said hanged, but that I hope in any case, without restriction,
     I nearly said con, that would cut my cackle. Ah for a neck! I want all to be well
     with you, do you hear me, that’s what he keeps on dinning at me. To which I reply,
     in a respectful attitude, I too, your Lordship. I say that to cheer him up, he sounds
     so unhappy. I am good-hearted, on the surface. No, we have no conversation, never
     a mum of his mouth to me. He’s out of luck, that’s certain, perhaps he didn’t choose
     me. What he means by good, my good, is another problem. He is capable of wanting me
     to be happy, such a thing has been known, it appears. Or to serve a purpose. Or the
     two at once! A little more explicitness on his part, since the initiative belongs
     to him, might be a help, as well from his point of view as from the one he attributes
     to me. Let the man explain himself and have done with it. It’s none of my business
     to ask him questions , even if I knew how to reach him. Let him inform me once and for all what exactly
     it is he wants from me, for me. What he wants is my good, I know that, at least I
     say it, in the hope of bringing him round to a more reasonable frame of mind, assuming
     he exists and, existing, hears me. But what good, there must be more than one. The
     supreme perhaps. In a word let him enlighten me, that’s all I ask, so that I may at
     least have the satisfaction of knowing in what sense I leave to be desired. If he wants me to say something,
     for my good naturally, he has only to tell me what it is and I’ll let it out with
     a roar straight away. It’s true he may have already told me a hundred times. Well,
     let him make it a hundred and one, this time I’ll try and pay attention . But perhaps I malign him unjustly, my good master, perhaps he is not solitary like
     me, not free like me, but associated with others, equally good, equally concerned with my welfare, but differing as to
     its nature. Every day, up above, I mean up above me, from one set hour to another
     set hour,everything there being set and settled except what is to be done with me, they assemble
     to discuss me. Or perhaps it’s a meeting of deputies, with instructions to elaborate
     a tentative agreement . The fact of my continuing, while they are thus engaged, to be what I have always
     been is naturally preferable to a lame resolution, voted perhaps by a majority of
     one, or drawn from an old hat. They too are unhappy, all this time, each one to the
     best of his capacity, because all is not well with me. And now enough of that. If
     that doesn’t mollify them so much the worse for me, I can still conceive of such a
     thing. But one more suggestion before I forget and go on to serious