Ill Seen Ill Said
ILL SEEN ILL SAID
ill seen
SAMUEL
BECKETT
Translated from French by the author
Grove Press, Inc., New York
Copyright© 1981 by Lcs Editions de Minuit
English tanslation copyright © 1981 by Samuel Beckett
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or tansmitted in any form, by any means, including
mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,
without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Fim pubiished in French as Mal vu mal dit
by Lcs Editions de Minuit, Paris, France, 1981.
Fim Hardcover Edition 1981
Fim Priming 1981
ISBN: 0-394-�2233-8
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 814769�
Manufactured in the United States of America
GROVE PRESS, INC., 196 West Houston Strc:c:t,
New York, N.Y. 10014
ILL SEEN ILL SAID
ILL SEEN hL SAID 7
From where she lies she
sees Venus rise. On. From where she lies
when the skies are clear she sees Venus rise
followed by the sun. Then she rails at the
source of all life. On. At evening when the
skies are clear she savours its star's revenge.
At the other window. Rigid upright on
her old chair she watches for the radiant
one. Her old deal spindlebacked kitchen
chair. It emerges from out the last rays and
sinking ever brighter is engulfed in its
turn. On. She sits on erect and rigid in the
deepening gloom. Such helplessness to
move she cannot help. Heading on foot for
a particular point often she freezes on the
way. Unable till long after to move on not
knowing whither or for what purpose.
Down on her knees especially she finds it
hard not to remain so forever. Hand resting on hand on some convenient support.
Such as the foot of her bed. And on them
her head. There then she sits as though
turned to stone face to the night. Save for
the white of her hair and faintly bluish
white of face and hands all is black. For an
8
SAMUEL BECKETI
eye having no need of light co see. All chis
in the present as had she the misfortune co
be still of chis world.
The cabin. Its situation.
Careful. On. At the inexistent centre of a
formless place. Rather more circular chan
otherwise finally. Flat co be sure. To cross
it in a straight line cakes her from five co
ten minutes. Depending on her speed and
radius taken. Here she who loves co-here
she who now can only stray never strays.
Scones increasingly abound. Ever scanter
even the rankest weed. Meagre pastures
hem it round on which it slowly gains.
With none co gainsay. To have gainsaid.
As if doomed co spread. How come a cabin
in such a place? How came? Careful. Before replying chat in the far past at the time of its building there was clover growing co
its very walls. Implying furthermore chat it
ILL SEEN ILL SAID 9
the culprit. And from it as from an evil
core that the what is the wrong word the
evil spread. And none to urge-none to
have urged its demolition. As if doomed to
endure. Question answered. Chalkstones
of striking effect in the light of the moon.
Let it be in opposition when the skies are
clear. Quick then still under the spell of
Venus quick to the other window to see
the other marvel rise. How whiter and
whiter as it climbs it whitens more and
more the stones. Rigid with face and hands
against the pane she stands and marvels
long.
The two zones form a
roughly circular whole. As though outlined by a trembling hand. Diameter. Careful. Say one furlong. On an average.
Beyond the unknown. Mercifully. The
feeling at times of being below sea level.
10 SAMUEL BECKETT
Especially at night when the skies are clear.
Invisible nearby sea. Inaudible. The entire
surface under grass. Once clear of the zone
of stones. Save where it has receded from
the chalky soil. Innumerable white scabs
all shapes and sizes. Of striking effect in
the light of the moon. In the way of animals ovines only. After long hesitation.
They are white and make do with little.
Whence suddenly come no knowing nor
whither as suddenly gone. Unshepherded
they stray as they list. Flowers? Careful.
Alone the odd crocus still at lambing time.
And man? Shut of at last? Alas no. For will
she not be surprised one day to find him
gone? Surprised no she is beyond surprise.
How many? A figure come what may.
Twelve. Wherewith to furnish the horizon's narrow round. She raises her eyes and sees one. Turns away and sees another. So
on. Always afar. Still or receding. She
never once saw one come toward her. Or
she forgets. She forgets. Are they always
the same? Do they see her? Enough.
ILL SEEN ILL SAID
ll
A moor would have better met the case. Were there a case better
co meet. There had co be lambs. Rightly or
wrongly. A moor would have allowed of
them. Lambs for their whiteness. And for
ocher reasons as yet obscure. Another reason. And so chat there may be none. At lambing time. That from one moment co
the next she may raise her eyes co find
them gone. A moor would have allowed of
them. In any case coo lace. And what
lambs. No trace of frolic. White splotches
in the grass. Aloof from the unheeding
ewes. Still. Then a moment straying. Then
still again. To chink there is still life in chis
age. Gently gently.
She is drawn co a certain
spot. At times. There stands a scone. It it is
draws her. Rounded rectangular block
three times as high as wide. Four. Her stature now. Her lowly stature. When it draws
12 SAMUEL BECKETI
she must to it. She cannot see it from her
door. Blindfold she could find her way.
With herself she has no more converse.
Never had much. Now none. As had she
the misfortune to be still of this world.
But when the stone draws then to her feet
the prayer, Take her. Especially at night
when the skies are clear. With moon or
without. They take her and halt her before
it. There she too as if of stone. But black.
Sometimes in the light of the moon.
Mostly of the stars alone. Does she envy
it?
To the imaginary stranger
the dwelling appears deserted. Under constant watch it betrays no sign of life. The eye glued to one or the other window has
nothing but black drapes for its pains. Motionle
ss against the door he listens long.
No sound. Knocks. No answer. Watches
ILL SEEN ILL SAID
1 3
all night in vain for the least glimmer. Returns at last to his own and avows, No one. She shows herself only to her own.
But she has no own. Yes yes she has one.
And who has her.
There was a time when
she did not appear in the zone of stones. A
long time. Was not therefore to be seen
going out or coming in. When she appeared only in the pastures. Was not therefore to be seen leaving them. Save as though by enchantment. But little by little
she began to appear. In the zone of stones.
First darkly. Then more and more plain.
Till in detail she could be seen crossing the
threshold both ways and closing the door
behind her. Then a time when within her
walls she did not appear. A long time. But
little by little she began to appear. Within
her walls. Darkly. Time truth to tell still
14 SAMUEL BECKETT
current. Though she within them no more.
This long time.
Yes within her walls so
far at the window only. At one or the other
window. Rapt before the sky. And only
half seen so far a pallet and a ghostly chair.
Ill half seen. And how in her faint comings
and goings she suddenly stops dead. And
how hard set to rise up from off her knees.
But there too little by little she begins
to appear more plain. Within her walls.
As well as other objects. Such as under
her pillow-such as deep in some recess
this still shadowy album. Perhaps in time
be by her when she takes it on her knees.
See the old fingers fumble through the
pages. And what scenes they can possibly
be that draw the head down lower still and
hold it in thrall. In the meantime who
ILL SEEN ILL SAID
1 S
knows no more than withered flowers. No
more!
But quick seize her where
she is best to be seized. In the pastures far
from shelter. She crosses the zone of stones
and is there. Clearer and clearer as she goes.
Quick seeing she goes out less and less.
And so to say only in winter. Winter in
her winter haunts she wanders. Far from
shelter. Head bowed she makes her slow
wavering way across the snow. It is evening. Yet again. On the snow her long shadow keeps her company. The others are
there. All about. The twelve. Afar. Still or
receding. She raises her eyes and sees one.
Turns away and sees another. Again she
stops dead. Now the moment or never.
But something forbids. Just time to begin to glimpse a fringe of black veil. The
16
SAMUEL BECKETT
•
face must wait. Just time before the eye
cast down. Where nothing to be seen in
the grazing rays but snow. And how all
about little by little her footprints are
effaced.
What is it defends her?
Even from her own. Averts the intent
gaze. Incriminates the dearly won. Forbids
divining her. What but life ending. Hers.
The other's. But so otherwise. She needs
nothing. Nothing utterable. Whereas the
other. How need in the end? But how?
How need in the end?
Urnes when she is gone.
Long lapses of time. At crocus rime it
would be making for the distant tomb. To
ILL SEEN ILL SAID 1 7
have that on the imagination! On top of
the rest. Bearing by the stem or round her
arm the cross or wreath. But she can be
gone at any time. From one moment of the
year to the next suddenly no longer there.
No longer anywhere to be seen. Nor by
the eye of flesh nor by the other. Then as
suddenly there again. Long after. So on.
Any other would renounce. Avow, No
one. No one more. Any other than this
other. In wait for her to reappear. In order
to resume. Resume the-what is the word?
What the wrong word?
Riveted to some detail
of the desert the eye fills with tears. Imagination at wit's end spreads its sad wings.
Gone she hears one night the sea as if afar.
Plucks up her long skirt to make better
haste and discovers her boots and stockings to the calf. Tears. Last example the
18 SAMUEL BECKETI
•
flagstone before her door that by dint by
dint her little weight has grooved. Tears.
Before left for the stockings the boots have time to be ill buttoned.
Weeping over as weeping will see now the
buttonhook larger than life. Of tarnished
silver pisciform it hangs by its hook from a
nail. It trembles faintly without cease. As
if here without cease the earth faintly
quaked. The oval handle is wrought to a
semblance of scales. The shank a little bent
leads up to the hook the eye so far still dry.
A lifetime of hooking has lessened its curvature. To the point at certain moments of its seeming unfit for service. Child's play
with a pliers to restore it. Was there once a
time she did? Careful. Once once in a way.
Till she could no more. No more bring the
jaws together. Oh not for weakness. Since
when it hangs useless from the nail. Trem-
ILL SEEN ILL SAID
19
bling imperceptibly without cease. Silver
shimmers some evenings when the skies
are clear. Close-up then. In which in defiance of reason the nail prevails. Long this image till suddenly it blurs.
She is there. Again. Let
the eye from its vigil be distracted a moment. At break or close of day. Distracted by the sky. By something in the sky. So
that when it resumes the curtain may be
no longer closed. Opened by her to let
her see the sky. But even without that
she is there. Without the curtain's being
opened. Suddenly open. A flash. The suddenness of all! She still without stopping.
On her way without starting. Gone without going. Back without returning. Suddenly it is evening. Or dawn. The eye rivets the bare window. Nothing in the
sky will distract it from it more. While she
20 SAMUEL BECKETT
.
from within looks her fill. Pfft occulted.
Nothing having stirred.
Already all confusion.
Things and imaginings. As of always. Confusion amounting to nothing. Despite precautions. If only she could be pure figment. Unalloyed. This old so dying
woman. So dead. In the madhouse of the
skull and nowhere else. Where no more
precautions to be taken. No precautions
possible. Cooped up there with the rest.
Hovel and stones. The lot. And the eye.
How simple all then. If only all could be
pure figment. Neither be nor been nor by
any shift to be. Gently gendy. On. Careful.
Here to the rescue two
lights. Two small skylights. Set in the
ILL SEEN ILL SAID 2 1
high-pitched roof on either side. Each
shedding dim light. No ceiling therefore.
r /> Necessarily. Otherwise with the curtains
closed she would be in the dark. Day and
night in the dark. And what of it? She is
done with raising her eyes. Nearly done.
But when she lies with them open she can
just make out the rafters. In the dim light
the skylights shed. An ever dimmer light.
As the panes slowly dimmen. All in black
she comes and goes. The hem of her long
black skirt brushes the floor. But most
often she is still. Standing or sitting. Lying
or on her knees. In the dim light the skylights shed. Otherwise with the curtains closed for preference she would be in the
dark. In the dark day and night.
Next to emerge from
the shadows an inner wall. Only slowly to
dissolve in favour of a single space. East the
bed. West the chair. A place divided by her
22
SAMUEL BECKETT
use of it alone. How more desirable in
every way an interior of a piece. The eye
breathes again but not for long. For slowly
it emerges again. Rises from the floor and
slowly up to lose itself in the gloom. The
semigloom. It is evening. The buttonhook glimmers in the last rays. The pallet scarce to be seen.
Weary of the inanimate
the eye in her absence falls back on the
twelve. Out of her sight as she of theirs.
Alone turn where she may she keeps her
eyes fixed on the ground. On the way at
her feet where it has come to a stop. Winter evening. Not to be precise. All so bygone. To the twelve then for want of better the widowed eye. No matter which.
In the distance stiff he stands facing front
and the setting sun. Dark greatcoat reaching to the ground. Antiquated block hat.
Finally the face caught full in the last rays.
ILL SEEN ILL SAID
2 3
Quick enlarge and devour before night
falls.
Having no need of light
to see the eye makes haste. Before night
falls. So it is. So itself belies. Then glutted-then torpid under its lid makes way for unreason. What if not her do they ring
around? Careful. She who looks up no
more looks up and sees them. Some among
them. Still or receding. Receding. Those
too closely seen who move to preserve
their distance. While at the same time others advance. Those in the wake of her wandering. She never once saw one come toward her. Or she forgets. She forgets.