Beckett's Happy Days, at present running in the Abbey Theatre as part of the Dublin Theatre festival, is superb.
Fiona Shaw leaves you with no opportunity but to listen and wonder at every word Beckett writes.
The stage scenery is perfect.
The emptiness, the bleak waiting, the nothingness of reality, the making fun of anything that might seem important has to jolt anyone who ever attempts to talk about reality or God.
Sitting through the play I was forced to laugh at all the certitudes I have ever heard from a pulpit. Beckett paints a frightening but great picture of reality. And in that context how can anyone ever say a word about God?
Can one dare say a word about God through the eyes of faith, but is that a cop-out?
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