Digital Manuscript ProjectMalone meurt / Malone Dies

[0796] shaking a duster, or a rag, to rid it of its dust.
[0797] And so rapid
was the trepidation of the limp, empty hands
that there seemed to be four or five at the
end of each arm, instead of the usual one.
[0798] At the same time she angrily
forced forth unanswerable questions,
in the style of, What's the good?
[0801] The bosom — no, what matters
is the head and then the hands it calls to
its rescue before all else, that clasp, gesticulate
then sadly resume their labour, lifting the old
inert objects and changing their function,
bringing them closer together and moving them
further apart.
[0802] But this pantomime and these
ejaculations were not intended for any living
person.
[0803] For every day and several
times a day she gave way to them, within doors
and without.
[0804] Then it little mattered to her
whether she was alone unobserved or not or whether what
she was doing was urgent or whether it could wait.
[0807] Sapo remained alone, by the window, the
bowl of goat's milk on the table before him,
forgotten.
[0808] It was summer.
[0809] The room was
dark in spite of the door and window open
on the great outer light.
[0810] Through these narrow
openings, far from each other apart, the light
poured, lit up a narrow space, then died,
undiffused.
- Segments
Malone meurt / Malone Dies © 2017 Samuel Beckett Digital Manuscript Project.
Editors: Dirk Van Hulle, Pim Verhulst and Vincent Neyt