Ireland: Samuel Beckett – Molloy
Irish writing is a peculiar thing; for such a small island, the amount of literary genius it has produced seems incongruous. One of these foremost talents is Samuel Beckett, whose most famous work is Molloy.
The novel follows the journey of a man, who thinks his mother’s surname might have been Molloy, therefore deducing it to be his name too. He doesn’t know how old he is, he just knows he is very old, and he doesn’t know where he is going, exactly. He just thinks he knows where he might be going. This bizarre journey progresses in no particular direction as Molloy continues to decay – he is convinced he is going to die. He departs with the most vital knowledge his years have bestowed upon him, trying to find out what’s going on. At the heart of the matter, Molloy just wants to know what he’s doing so he has the hope of being able to do it, but as he explains: “If there is one question I dread, to which I have never been able to invent a satisfactory reply, it is the question what am I doing.”
Following Molloy’s journey, the narration shifts to another man, Moran, who might be a detective, or an emissary, or he may just be a go-between. He is tracking Molloy, for an unspecified reason, but as he gets closer he too begins to decline. Eventually he just stops searching. There is no certainty as to who these characters really are, or what it is they’re doing.
Words by Jonah Hartley