Death, Beckett, Conscience and Reason, Corruption, Heaven and Hell Rethought and The Robbers

Onfray declares, Christianity (like other monotheistic religions), are “fatally fixated on death. It loves death, cherishes death; it exults in death, is fascinated by death.”(176). Since the time of Constantine – the first Christian Emperor of Rome - in the fourth century “armed with this ontological asset” of god’s word, Christians “very early began to sell their souls” in a grab for power and wealth (182). Inflicting death in the name of god has been part and parcel of monotheism ever since. “History bears witness: millions of dead in the name of God, millions on every continent and in every century” (182). If monotheistic faith is so ingrained and apparently quite deadly, can we enter into a new post-religious era anytime soon? No says Hitchens “not until we get over our fear of death and of the dark and of the unknown, and of eachother” (12). The fear of death perhaps is pure existential angst which if confronted will reveal, “the truth of existence seen… in the glare of a horrifyingly simple insight” (Dobrez:91). That is, we exist and beyond that there is nothing.

The plays of Samuel Beckett often challenge us, for example, to confront death and consider the possibility of existence with a definitive end. Rockaby (1981) expresses frustrated acceptance toward the idea of existence and nothingness simultaneously. The life-weary female protagonist’s repetitiously fading pleas for “more” (275-280) underlie the anticipated “close of a long day” (275-281) that quickly approaches which “in the end” (275-281) produces the defiant “fuck life” (282) as if life, somewhat pessimistically, amounts to nothing in the end. Her life long search for her mother, or maybe someone like herself, or simply herself has produced no tangible results. She frustratingly waits for the void to “Rock her off” (282). The “Speaker” in A Piece of Monologue (1980) faces a blank wall in a dimly lit room and begins, “Birth was the death of him” (265). All alone, having cut himself off from the outside world, he muses on birth and death initially and then finally just death. The inevitable force of death is powerful and pulls him, “Into the black vast. Nothing there. Nothing stirring… into the dark whole again. No. No such thing as whole” (267). And is the situation in which the three protagonists in Play (1963) find themselves in purgatory? hell? or perhaps a comedic metaphor for our earthly existence, perpetually moving in circles, replaying events over and over in our heads, with no solution, for eternity. The character Man asks, “Am I as much as being seen?” (157) alluding to the reality of the fleeting nature of existence.

Through Beckett’s peripheral vision we can perceive “the power and the reality of existence, even if the meaning of that existence remains unattainable” (Davis et al:65). The inability of our language and knowledge to reveal an actual, tangible or visceral understanding of death, and therefore life, allows for perpetual speculation leaving a gap which religion attempts to fill. Franz is merciless in his summation of life and death; “man is born of filth and wades a little while in filth, and makes filth, and rots away again in filth, til at last he is no more that the muck that sticks to the soles of his great-grandsons shoes” (Act 4: Sc 5). It is a view that, in some ways resembles Beckett’s in that there is the distinct absence of god and no heaven or hell to look forward to. We live, we die. But while Schiller gives Franz that glimmer of doubt in his last moments, Beckett presents us with is the possibility that there is nothing after death and leaves us to contemplate and accept that very real possibility.

That an afterlife, of either heaven or hell is the only options on offer from the priest and pastor in The Robbers, is perhaps indicative of the power of denial and the fear of death instilled in the minds of the devoutly pious. The clergy in The Robbers are clearly speaking from a position of privilege and power that ultimately seeks to maintain the socio/political order. This is one of the reasons they cannot be taken seriously. Being an intrinsic part of the corrupt power hierarchy, how would they be judged by their god and where would they end up in the afterlife? The corruption of the church and its links to the state is well documented from its very beginnings, through the medieval period, the fascist regimes of Musssolini and Nazi Germany to modern Christian, Muslim and Jewish fundamentalist regimes and organisations globally.

That religion was intrinsically linked to the corrupt power structure was undeniable and astutely observed by Karl. His actions speak of revolution against the established ruling classes - “death or liberty!” Though he, personally, may be having a crisis of faith throughout most of the play, he nevertheless is at war with those immediately responsible for the misery and suffering present around him. He wears as trophies jewellery taken from his most prized victims; a ruby from a politician, a diamond from a Minister of Finance. Provocatively he tells the priest, “this agate I wear in honour of one of your cloth, whom I strangled with my own hands” (Act 2:Sc 3). One thing is clear; the perceived enemies are the church and state.

Karl acts within the confines of some sort of customized ethical code that justifies violence and theft against the rich and powerful; in essence he is akin to the medieval English legend of Robin Hood. An example is in Act 2 Scene 3, leading a charge to save his favourite fellow bandit Roller from the hangman’s noose, he consequently burns down a town killing eighty three people: children, the elderly and even a pregnant woman. Despite much personal distress on hearing about the aftermath, he justifies the act as being committed out of love and loyalty to Roller. But when other fellow robber Schufterle expresses mocking contempt for the dead, Karl curses his inhumanity, dismissing him immediately from the group. Karl is a man who is both socially and politically aware and clearly he has a conscience, “Oh my treacherous conscience – Take notice of what I say!” (Act 5: Sc 2) and this is the bane of his melancholy.

Conscience and reason play a major role in the development of character in both Franz and Karl. Franz fiendishly notes, “Conscience… yes indeed a most admirable device to keep fools respectful and to hold down the mob, so the clever people can live in better comfort” (Act 1:Sc 2). In his room, continuing this line of thought leads to further deviations from morality; “What can reason or religion do to stay the monster’s icy embrace?” (Act 2:Sc 1). Franz actively seeks to cause disharmony and is at war with nature. It is nothing short of “an attempt to deceive the world by perverting the course of nature.” (Panterfield:456). But who has he deceived if not only himself in the end? Perhaps it is what we leave behind that lives on rather than Beckett’s nothingness. In a very real sense we live on through our ideas, our genes and through minute cells that we pass on. These in essence are the contributions we make to human evolution. Thus heaven and hell may really just be the two possibilities of humanities earthly outcomes. We end up in a hellish reality or one that is heavenly. Which ideas, genes and cells triumph will ultimately decide our collective future.

Compare Franz with our first encounter, in the text, with Karl, engrossed in a book. Karl is a man of dualities, feeling an accord with nature and a discord with humanity. He attempts to use reason to justify his lawless actions only to find his conscience demands more answers; “There is such divine harmony in the world of inanimate nature, why such discord in the world of reason? … I am my heaven and my hell” (Act 4:Sc 5) This is the point, that we, individually and collectively, ultimately are our own heaven and hell. Both men understand the power which they possess to shape events but it is only Karl who acknowledges his conscience and seeks answers to the turbulence taking place inside his mind. The freedom of the will has the power to move in either direction; absolutely in one direction, as is the case with Franz, or simultaneously in both, as with Karl. From a contemporary atheist perspective Karl only had to renounce violence from his life to be on the path to greater harmony with the world. He had already realised the fiction of god and the corruption of the Church and state. Instead of believing the improbable suggestion that, “two men such as I would destroy the whole moral order of creation” (Act 5:Sc 2) it would be more accurate to suggest if everybody was like him then maybe we would have a hellish reality. Dawkins muses “life is as meaningful, as full, and as wonderful as we choose to make it” (360). Perhaps atheism (without the violence) was the answer to his existential angst and longing, because then he would pass on his ideas and help shape the meaningful and wonderful future? This would help create a heavenly utopia on earth. As it turns out in the end, with Karl’s surprisingly swift return to the fold at the conclusion of the The Robbers, Schiller simply reiterates the viewpoint that disobeying those in power is akin to disobeying god. Karl then simply perpetuates the corrupt established order and thus ends up contributing to the path toward a future hellish dystopian reality.