We sat for a minute in silence. I thought there was a Zoom malfunction. Then, with no context, Estragon said, "Nothing to be done." And from there on, we remained in confusion.
The play goes a little something like this:
*Estragon and Vladimir sit up and down abruptly.
*They waddle around.
*They raise their voices and chatter about the Bible, a carrot, and a slave (as you can see, their range is wide)
The mere abruptness of their movements and speech resembles a puppet show or a PBS children's show from the early 2000s. Especially with the limited view of rocks and the sky, it feels like the set of the Teletubbies, except with two (and later four) strange men disrupting the peace. Of course, we know it's a play, but the ridiculousness of the setting and plot highlights just how far Waiting for Godot departs from reality. We're hyperaware of the fact that it's a story.
Similarly, in my book Farewell my Concubine, there's a story within the greater story of history. As the book progressed through Xiao Douzi and Xiao Shitou's life, it was accompanied by how the two responded to the history of China. So even though the book is a piece of fiction, the incorporation of Chinese history in the twentieth century makes you take a step back and see the plot as a mere story within the larger scope of the world.
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