Beckett...

I attempted reading some Beckett recently. I found a copy of Three Novels which consists of Molloy, Malone Dies, and The Unnamable. I slogged through Molloy and started into Malone Dies. At this stage, not only was it completely destroying my brain, but I felt like it was a lot like the novel I had just finished. I gave up frustrated at the anti-novel approach. I get that he was trying to subvert the normal structures of character, plot, and the basic narrative, but after a while it felt very pointless and a waste of time. It takes a lot for me to stop reading a novel. I feel the same about finishing books as I do about cleaning my plate at dinner.
Anyway, having a coffee and pastry in Cafe du Soleil (at Fillmore and Waller for those who know SF) this morning, I was reading through The Onion and came across this article which made me laugh out loud. I'm sure the guy sitting next to me thought I was nuts.