Getting to the Bottom of Beckett
Waiting for Godot brought in enough money to enable Beckett to buy himself a Paris flat and a small house in the country where he did much of his work. Other than simple everyday needs, his expenditure on himself stopped there. His French publisher was often in financial difficulties and Beckett not only forewent royalties but used revenue from performances to get him out of trouble. He did the same for no-one knows how many others. Anyone in need went to Beckett and he would borrow to lend money that was never returned. When he won the Nobel Prize in 1969 and a large sum of money came to him, he told me that he did not feel he deserved it and could I give him a list of needy writers he could help. By the time he received my list it was all gone. Others had come to him, often asking for as large a sum as they dared. When he died there was nothing in the bank, money was owed in tax and his heirs had to wait for it to be paid before they received any benefit.
from an article by John Calder
Ancient Lights – Selected Poems by Dick Jones
Neither love nor freedom can survive the fire from what we might become. Several of these poems seem to take place at the junction between two hemispheres. The poet finds himself in the cold blue-before-dawn light with one foot in the old world and another in the margin that might or might not mean a [...]
Montvideo, a poem by Eduardo Galeano
Every day I walk the city that walks me. I walk through her and she walks through me. At the edge of the river-sea, river as broad as the sea, the clear air clears my mind and my legs stride on while stories walk inside me. Walking, I write. At a stroll, words seek each [...]
Last Evenings on Earth by Roberto Bolano
B writes a book in which he makes fun of certain writers, variously disguised, or, to be more precise, certain types of writers. In one of his stories there is a character not unlike A, a writer of about B’s age, but who, unlike B, is famous, well-off and has a large readership; in other [...]
You Can Jump by Mat Coward – a review
. . .The only contact he had with people was when he shoved their heads down toilet bowls, and he couldn’t do that to the teachers. As an adult, looking back, I understand that the reason everyone was frightened of Karl wasn’t because he growled but because we could all see where he was going [...]
