Loving Monday: My Messy Life
I have to be candid: this set of chapters in Loving Monday didn't really work for me.
Maybe it was the written structure— every chapter neatly leading into the next, with obvious signposts. Or maybe the structure was supporting a dynamic that was the real source of my discomfort...
it felt like Beckett's life was too neat— not without trouble mind you, but still too neat.
Why should this bother me? Isn't it possible that his path was indeed that directed, that overseen?
Well, yes. It is possible.
The problem is I have a tendency to want to describe life this way, in my own messy life. And it feels too simple. As a writer, I've especially struggled not to give in to the "happy ending" syndrome, even while it's true that there have been some unarguable happy endings in my experience.
Perhaps it's a matter of what's in vogue. But I wanted to see the "messy" in Beckett, in a way that connected to the messy in me.
Messy End Table photo, by L.L. Barkat.
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