2min chapter

The New Yorker: Fiction cover image

Saïd Sayrafiezadeh Reads Samuel Beckett

The New Yorker: Fiction

CHAPTER

The Death of the Soul

There's a moment right Deborah when it says she's already dead of course or something. She's so dead in the mad house of the skull and nowhere else in mad house of his gulp presumably. Yet something something is there in his mind's eye you know what she he this this eye this seeing eye that keeps coming back whether it's he says i have the flesh or the otherso presumably the other is i of the mind okay? He doesn't care all that much if we know the reality and he wants us to have options do you think he cares about the reader I think he wants the reader to work really hard work really hard he's not going to spoon feed any any meaning

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