Samuel Beckett wrote the radio play, Words and Music between November and December 1961.Both James Knowlson (Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett, p 497) and Stan Gontarski (The Faber Companion to Samuel Beckett, p 650) quote these dates however, Deirdre Bair, stipulates that the text of the play was completed "by 20th November, the date [Beckett] affixed at the end of the manuscript." – Bair, D., Samuel Beckett: A Biography (London: Vintage, 1990), p 571 It was recorded and broadcast on the BBC Third Programme on 13 November 1962. Patrick Magee played Words and Felix Felton, Croak. Music was composed especially by John S. Beckett.Gannon, Charles: John S. Beckett – The Man and the Music (Dublin: 2016, The Lilliput Press), pp. 135, 137-8, 140-3, 365 and 376. The play first appeared in print in Evergreen Review 6.27 (November–December 1962). Beckett himself translated the work into French under the title Paroles et Musique (Minuit, 1966).
While John Fletcher considered Words and Music the weakest of Beckett's radio plays, Hugh Kenner considered it arguably the most moving work ever done for radio and Vivian Mercier praised it as one of Beckett's most powerful works along with Cascando (1961).
Synopsis
The play takes place in what Katharine Worth describes as "an unidentified 'listening' space,"Worth, K., 'Cosmic Scenery' in Samuel Beckett's Theatre: Life Journeys, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999) another of Beckett's "skullscapes."The designation "skullscape" is Linda Ben Zvi's, from the recorded discussion that followed the production of Embers for the Beckett Festival of Radio Plays, recorded at the BBC Studios, London on January 1988. The only specific location mentioned is "the tower" – perhaps a folly(?) – so the scene may well be in a castle or similarly large building of some kind with Croak in the role of châtelain.
CroakTo croak: a common euphemism for "to die". The suicidal man in Rough for Theatre II is named Croker. is a doddery old man, testy and maudlin. He is never referred to by name in the play itself but he is well named. Joe addresses to him – albeit somewhat obsequiously – as, "My Lord," since, despite his apparent frailty, he has plainly been someone used to wielding authority. There are only three sound effects used in the entire play, the shuffle [Beckett's descriptive stage direction) of Croak's feet as he arrives and departs, the thud/dropping of his club (staff?) reminiscent of the rulers wielded by the Animator in Rough for Radio II and the music teacher in Embers and the rapping of Music's baton reminiscent of a once prevalent practice among conductors of the past which is now far less widespread. The club and baton function as objects of authority. They form an interesting dyad prominently employed throughout the play.
For entertainment, Croak, (a Beckettian ‘old King Cole’) has only two old stalwarts to call on, his minstrels, Joe (Words) and Bob (Music). Each is heard to be possibly an abstraction and/or a being of some sort manifested through their respective vocabularies (music/words). Do they have actual physical form? This remains an unanswerable question. With radio remaining a solely sonic medium, we can only conjecture (Beckett sets up similar uncertainty in much of his work). Words/Music function in a way resembling court artists/musicians of the past. Word's repeatedly addressing Croak as "My Lord" and the strange formality to the domination both Words/Joe and Music/Bob seem accustomed to enduring adds an ancient (medieval?) or primitively regal aspect to the proceedings.
The modern shortened names (Joe, Bob) add a humorous contemporary contrast to the generally ancient (or timeless) seeming circumstances. The source of Croak's power over them is never explained or questioned-adding to the mysterious atmosphere.
Alfred Alvarez refers to Croak as "a poet"Alvarez, A., Samuel Beckett (New York: Viking Press, 1973), p 119 though there is no real evidence to suggest that he is. In fact his utterances throughout the play are terse: moans, groans and murmurings mainly along with a few short lines (commands, entreaties or outbursts). That said, he appears to appreciate poetry especially when set to music. The first theme Croak proclaims for the evening's diversion is "Love." Beckett offers several clues to help imagine Croak as a specific character. His shuffling feet, choice of themes, self-torturing reminiscence and intense reactions to much of what Words and Music produce/perform all seem to indicate that he is a decrepit version of Orsino with his famous opening line from Twelfth Night: "If music be the food of love, play on,"Shakespeare, W., Twelfth Night (Act 1, Scene 1) a hopeless romantic, in love with love, and the melancholy brought on by the mere thought of it. Croak could almost be the selfsame man, had he never moved from that spot for the rest of his life and now finds himself perhaps approaching the brink of death. Or does this gathering occur again and again outside time? So many Beckett works present characters seemingly caught in endless cycles of repetition (those who wait in "Waiting for Godot"/the appearing-disappearing woman in "Ill Seen Ill Said"/The urn-dwelling trio in "Play" etc.) that this is always a possibility.
Additional related aspects of Love that Croak focuses on as sub-themes are "Age," "Face," (With two foreshadowing mentions earlier on in the play-once by Croak and then latter by Words) and the climactic naming of "Lily" which is discussed later regarding its various implications. After this iteration Croak is reduced to groans, an anguished "No!" and the eventual dropping of his "club" followed by shuffling away. His entrance/exit frames the main body of the play.
Prelude
The going is not easy; from the very beginning it's obvious that Words and Music do not enjoy each other's company. The play opens with Music – a small orchestra – tuning up much to the irritation of Words who is trying to rehearse a soliloquy on the unlikely theme of sloth. The orchestra interrupts him in the middle of his speech and again at the end when he's straining to hear if their master is approaching. Squabbling servants appear often in the works of Shakespeare summoning another parallel. Joe is much like Malvolio, the strait-laced, pompous steward in the household of Lady Olivia, efficient but also self-righteous, with a poor opinion of drinking, singing, and fun. His priggishness and haughty attitude earn him the enmity of Maria, Olivia's sharp-witted waiting-gentlewoman. There are moments of jealousy and competitiveness between Words and Music that seem at times relatively overt, adding dimension to their relationship.
Croak shuffles into the room and Joe and Bob both become habitually subservient. They've probably been together for a great many years, like Hamm and Clov, and rubbing each other the wrong way has become a means of entertaining themselves when they're not performing for their master. They could be viewed as prisoners who cannot escape torturing one another. Croak realizes they will have been bickering and gently reproves them: "My comforts! Be friends."Beckett, S., Collected Shorter Plays of Samuel Beckett (London: Faber and Faber, 1984), p 127 He apologises for being late and offers a vague excuse: "The face … On the stairs … In the tower."Beckett, S., Collected Shorter Plays of Samuel Beckett (London: Faber and Faber, 1984), pp 127,128 He apparently doesn't need to explain further. "The face" will be taken up later on and bring Croak added anguish. He seems magnanimous at first but soon enough reveals his impatience, condescension, tyranny and raging.
Love
Croak considers for a moment and then announces the primary theme for the night's entertainment: Love. He calls for his club and thumps it on the ground: "Love!" We now realise that Joe may have been mocking the old man in his earlier disquisition on sloth. The speech he delivers is practically identical to the one he was rehearsing before when the play opens; he has simply swapped 'sloth' with 'love'. It is empty rhetoric. At one point he even stumbles and says 'sloth' by mistake. The feeling is that it wouldn't matter what the theme chosen was this was the speech he was intending to deliver: "'one-size-fits-all' verbiage ... Polonius could not have done better."Brown, V., Yesterday’s Deformities: A Discussion of the Role of Memory and Discourse in the Plays of Samuel Beckett, (doctoral thesis) Croak is displeased and calls on Bob to offer his sounds based on the theme-his "interpretation," if you will. Croak is still unhappy and wants the music louder. Joe interrupts, overstepping the mark with a jester's veracity: "What? Is love the word? … Is soul the word? … Do we mean love when we say love? … Soul, when we say soul? … Do we? … Or don’t we?"
Croak finally cries out for Bob's assistance and the recital turns into a shambles.
Once everything has calmed down he sets a new topic: Age.
Age
Joe's words are nowhere near as eloquent here. He had prepared one speech and now has to improvise a second. Does his master mean old age? He's not sure. His speech falters and Croak doesn't put up with him for long. It's unclear if he is trying to mimic an old man's speech pattern or if he has genuinely been caught off guard. Bob's music is also endured for only a short time. Croak's solution is a simple one, force the rivals to work together. They object but acquiesce.
Stefan-Brook Grant has proposed the term "fugue",Grant, S., Samuel Beckett's Radio Plays: Music of the Absurd an imitative compositional technique, to describe the initial attempts of Joe and Bob to work together. At the very least there is a contrapuntal aspect to the repetitions and echoes that eventually combine in mutual performance. The term fugue may be stretching things a bit but is not far off the mark. At first Joe offers a few words, which Bob tries to present as a musical phrase but soon it's clear that things work better if Joe adds words to Bob's music. Music takes on the role of leader and offers "suggestions" as they are described in Beckett's repeated stage directions. In this way they stumble through the construction of the first "aria"Mercier, V., Beckett/Beckett (London: Souvenir Press, 1990), p 155 as Vivian Mercier refers to each of the two short poems, the first of which was published separately as Song (considering this title "aria" may be a bit of an exaggeration) in Collected Poems (1984).
After their initial run through, line-by-line, Bob plays the whole piece and then invites Joe to sing along, which he does his best to. The result is less actual singing than 'sprechtstimme.' It is a song about age but it is also about lost love. Perhaps Croak's "comforts" are beginning to grasp what their master really needs to hear. "For the first time Croak [is able to] direct his attention to the subject of the recitation rather than to its form."Lyons, C. R., Samuel Beckett, MacMillan Modern Dramatists (London: MacMillan Education, 1983), p 137 "Specifics replace slippery abstractions, the active replaces the passive voice ... clumsy and tentative, Joe has achieved resonance in reaching Croak’s memory." Croak makes no comment whatsoever after they have finished but one senses approval because he opens up an altogether more intimate topic: "the face".
The Face