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Dante and the Lobster
Well, thought Belacqua, it's a quick death, God help us all.
It is not.
'Dante and the Lobster' is the first of the linked short stories in Samuel Beckett's first book, More Pricks Than Kicks. Published in 1934, its style was recognisably indebted to that of his mentor, James Joyce, and crammed with linguistic texture and allusion that Beckett later shed. The book baffled many critics and sold so few copies that several batches were pulped.
Decades later, this story was hailed as the Nobel Prize-winner's earliest important work.
48 pages, Kindle Edition
Published January 3, 2019
23 people are currently reading
595 people want to read
About the author
Samuel Beckett
915 books6,549 followersNovels of Samuel Barclay Beckett, Irish writer, include
Murphy
in 1938 and
Malone Dies
in 1951; a wider audience know his absurdist plays, such as
Waiting for Godot
in 1952 and
Krapp's Last Tape
in 1959, and he won the Nobel Prize of 1969 for literature.
Samuel Barclay Beckett, an avant-garde theater director and poet, lived in France for most of his adult life. He used English and French. His work offers a bleak, tragicomic outlook on human nature, often coupled with black gallows humor.
People regard most influence of Samuel Barclay Beckett of the 20th century. James Augustine Aloysius Joyce strongly influenced him, whom people consider as one modernist. People sometimes consider him as an inspiration to many later first postmodernists. He is one of the key in what Martin Esslin called the "theater of the absurd". His later career worked with increasing minimalism.
People awarded Samuel Barclay Beckett "for his writing, which—in new forms for the novel and drama—in the destitution of modern man acquires its elevation".
In 1984, people elected Samuel Barclay Bennett as Saoi of Aosdána.
Samuel Barclay Beckett, an avant-garde theater director and poet, lived in France for most of his adult life. He used English and French. His work offers a bleak, tragicomic outlook on human nature, often coupled with black gallows humor.
People regard most influence of Samuel Barclay Beckett of the 20th century. James Augustine Aloysius Joyce strongly influenced him, whom people consider as one modernist. People sometimes consider him as an inspiration to many later first postmodernists. He is one of the key in what Martin Esslin called the "theater of the absurd". His later career worked with increasing minimalism.
People awarded Samuel Barclay Beckett "for his writing, which—in new forms for the novel and drama—in the destitution of modern man acquires its elevation".
In 1984, people elected Samuel Barclay Bennett as Saoi of Aosdána.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 92 reviews
April 4, 2025
In this Faber Short, our friend Bellacqua, whose name I mispelled in my review of Dream of Fair to Middling Women, makes a reappeance.
It is a refreshing but callow breeze in my reading after the fatalistic box of Murphy.
Is it the first in the sequence of Beckett's prose works? Here he had not yet found his later laconic voice, I guess. So rather than Dante and the Lobster it's really only Bellacqua's storied indolence while prepping a lobster supper.
Beckett was a bit at sea when he wrote it.
Stilted, stunted and awed by the privilege of being private secretary and amanuensis to the towering but legally blind writer James Joyce, who could no longer write, he just wanted to escape into his own creativity.
It was WWII. France was under the Nazi Boot Heel. Beckett was an agent in the Resistance.
He would later snap under the stress. THEN he would find his voice!
The voice of a depressed nut case.
Psych ward vets like Beckett and me are Bellacquan Non Starters, that's the inside joke now. Not funny? We both agree... cause it hurts only when we laugh.
So the book is really just a hyper-intelligent rant. But very, very funny! Three stars, since it is totally lacking in mature direction and sober development.
Stoics make bad saints, while martyrs live on the deeply piercing edge of well mannered pained civility. Beckett was slowly evolving into the latter.
Life is not easy.
Never has been and never will be. But he laughs.
You laugh, Signor Bellacqua, but soon that basket case, the incomparable Beckett, whom you would become, will see right through you.
As did God, all along.
Warts and all.
Don't go here, friends, unless you dig humorously directionless rambling...
For it is an inauspicious start to an otherwise shining writing career.
It is a refreshing but callow breeze in my reading after the fatalistic box of Murphy.
Is it the first in the sequence of Beckett's prose works? Here he had not yet found his later laconic voice, I guess. So rather than Dante and the Lobster it's really only Bellacqua's storied indolence while prepping a lobster supper.
Beckett was a bit at sea when he wrote it.
Stilted, stunted and awed by the privilege of being private secretary and amanuensis to the towering but legally blind writer James Joyce, who could no longer write, he just wanted to escape into his own creativity.
It was WWII. France was under the Nazi Boot Heel. Beckett was an agent in the Resistance.
He would later snap under the stress. THEN he would find his voice!
The voice of a depressed nut case.
Psych ward vets like Beckett and me are Bellacquan Non Starters, that's the inside joke now. Not funny? We both agree... cause it hurts only when we laugh.
So the book is really just a hyper-intelligent rant. But very, very funny! Three stars, since it is totally lacking in mature direction and sober development.
Stoics make bad saints, while martyrs live on the deeply piercing edge of well mannered pained civility. Beckett was slowly evolving into the latter.
Life is not easy.
Never has been and never will be. But he laughs.
You laugh, Signor Bellacqua, but soon that basket case, the incomparable Beckett, whom you would become, will see right through you.
As did God, all along.
Warts and all.
Don't go here, friends, unless you dig humorously directionless rambling...
For it is an inauspicious start to an otherwise shining writing career.
February 13, 2019
To celebrate their 90th birthday, publisher Faber and Faber have launched a series called ‘Faber Stories’. A single short story by a host of well-known writers such as Samuel Beckett, Kazuo Ishiguro, P D James, Lorrie Moore, Flannery O’Connor and Sylvia Plath. The first launch of these individual shorts has twenty slim volumes. There will be more later in the year.
‘Dante and the Lobster’ is a very early piece of Beckett, dating from 1934 when he was still under the influence of his mentor, James Joyce. It is from his first book called ‘More Pricks than Kicks’. At the time of publication, many critics were baffled, and the book did not sell well. Many copies were pulped.
I found this an amazing story and loved it instantly. It is so many years since I read any James Joyce, that I forget the feel of his style and didn’t draw a comparison. The first thing I found when approaching this cold, was the sense of dislocation. I didn’t know where I was or what was happening.
The story begins “It was morning and Belacqua was stuck in the first of the canti in the moon. He was so bogged that he could move neither backward nor forward. Blissful Beatrice was there, Dante also, and she explained the spots on the moon to him.” Because I don’t know my Dante, I am not sure if we are sitting in mediaeval Italy or in present times. Belacqua could be a Florentine nobleman for all I know.
He slams the book shut and leans back to think about what is in front of him; lunch, a lobster and an Italian lesson.
As soon as we begin on the process of preparing lunch, then I know that we are in present time. It is also where the humour begins. Belacqua takes his preparation very seriously. Should he be disturbed during the process “he might just as well not eat at all, for the food would turn to bitterness on his palate, or, worse again, taste of nothing.” The description that follows is wonderful. He is just making two slices of toast, but with all the care and infinite art of a finalist on Masterchef. Having heard the precision and care that he takes to cut the slices and prepare the heat, on his knees before the gas ring, and to then discover that he simply burns the toast to a cinder; “Long before the end the room was full of smoke and the reek of burning.” He then wraps the charred remains in newspaper and leaves the house, crossing town to arrive at a particular shop where he will buy a slices of the most rank Gorgonzola cheese to place in his sandwich. He is paranoid that he will be stopped and engaged in conversation, hence ruining his precious toast, whereas to most people the whole thing is already ruined. In the grocer’s shop the small slab of cheese put aside for him is not as green and rank smelling as Belacqua would like. He insults the grocer, who stands his ground.
I love the way this all plays out, so serious but so comical at the same time. The sandwich is a huge success, “It was like eating glass.” The cheese was better than he ever imagined and he has to reassess the greenness he has previously associated with the strong flavor. He accepts he has been wrong. But next he must collect his lobster and get to his Italian lesson. So he travels onwards in this bizarre world.
What a wonderfully absurd story. All its little touches are excellent, humour and tone all start us in one direction and then take us in another.
‘Dante and the Lobster’ is a very early piece of Beckett, dating from 1934 when he was still under the influence of his mentor, James Joyce. It is from his first book called ‘More Pricks than Kicks’. At the time of publication, many critics were baffled, and the book did not sell well. Many copies were pulped.
I found this an amazing story and loved it instantly. It is so many years since I read any James Joyce, that I forget the feel of his style and didn’t draw a comparison. The first thing I found when approaching this cold, was the sense of dislocation. I didn’t know where I was or what was happening.
The story begins “It was morning and Belacqua was stuck in the first of the canti in the moon. He was so bogged that he could move neither backward nor forward. Blissful Beatrice was there, Dante also, and she explained the spots on the moon to him.” Because I don’t know my Dante, I am not sure if we are sitting in mediaeval Italy or in present times. Belacqua could be a Florentine nobleman for all I know.
He slams the book shut and leans back to think about what is in front of him; lunch, a lobster and an Italian lesson.
As soon as we begin on the process of preparing lunch, then I know that we are in present time. It is also where the humour begins. Belacqua takes his preparation very seriously. Should he be disturbed during the process “he might just as well not eat at all, for the food would turn to bitterness on his palate, or, worse again, taste of nothing.” The description that follows is wonderful. He is just making two slices of toast, but with all the care and infinite art of a finalist on Masterchef. Having heard the precision and care that he takes to cut the slices and prepare the heat, on his knees before the gas ring, and to then discover that he simply burns the toast to a cinder; “Long before the end the room was full of smoke and the reek of burning.” He then wraps the charred remains in newspaper and leaves the house, crossing town to arrive at a particular shop where he will buy a slices of the most rank Gorgonzola cheese to place in his sandwich. He is paranoid that he will be stopped and engaged in conversation, hence ruining his precious toast, whereas to most people the whole thing is already ruined. In the grocer’s shop the small slab of cheese put aside for him is not as green and rank smelling as Belacqua would like. He insults the grocer, who stands his ground.
I love the way this all plays out, so serious but so comical at the same time. The sandwich is a huge success, “It was like eating glass.” The cheese was better than he ever imagined and he has to reassess the greenness he has previously associated with the strong flavor. He accepts he has been wrong. But next he must collect his lobster and get to his Italian lesson. So he travels onwards in this bizarre world.
What a wonderfully absurd story. All its little touches are excellent, humour and tone all start us in one direction and then take us in another.
July 3, 2022
I'm sure that I didn't understand every bit or metaphor in this short story. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed it. It was dense, full of curiosity and absurdity. There was a lot of action and nonsense in 30 pages which gave me reading fun. I imagine the book to be read in endless repetition and it would not feel awkward for Belacqua to repeat every action again daily.
May 11, 2023
I think for me this sums up the variety and range of the Faber 90 short stories - here you have a story that delights in detailing the ridiculous - from the precision and customs of preparing a lunch of toast which involves burning it to a cinder and stopping just short of filling the room with smoke to the details of various personal interactions - this could read like any modern observation on the farcical nature of life.
However this was written in the 1930s at the beginning of Samuel Becketts writing career - for me this just shows how some work is not defined by a time and how it can remain both relevant and accessible through the ages.
However this was written in the 1930s at the beginning of Samuel Becketts writing career - for me this just shows how some work is not defined by a time and how it can remain both relevant and accessible through the ages.
June 25, 2020
Wow, this was terrible.
September 13, 2023
Way Beckett written is undeniably beautiful and mesmerising. Yet the storyline is questionable and not great. Also, what do you have against buttered toast?!
October 16, 2024
"where we were, thought belacqua, as we were. [...] why not piety and pity both, even down below? why not mercy and godliness together?"
July 6, 2024
Love love love as always. Beckett can do no wrong. I mean Beckett referencing Dante this book was for me.
February 4, 2019
From a text I have just sent.
Bloody hell. Strange life isn't it. Strange how we can do something with no real thought about it and it leads to something big. I didn't want to start reading Les Mis without Erin. And on Friday I bought a copy of Dante And The Lobster just on a whim. Saw it in WH Smith for two quid. Just decided to read that instead. Absolutely blown away. Best short story I've ever read. Mad! X
Bloody hell. Strange life isn't it. Strange how we can do something with no real thought about it and it leads to something big. I didn't want to start reading Les Mis without Erin. And on Friday I bought a copy of Dante And The Lobster just on a whim. Saw it in WH Smith for two quid. Just decided to read that instead. Absolutely blown away. Best short story I've ever read. Mad! X
December 7, 2019
Belacqua is interrupted while reading The Divine Comedy. The rest of his day is described in humorously obsessive detail, with just a hint of a darker depth of meaning. The writing is considered but appropriately dense for the story and effect Beckett was going for. I can see this being a bit of a 'marmite' volume in the Faber Stories collection, but I rather enjoyed it.
(I'm not nearly familiar enough with Dante to know anything about Belacqua in his work. Had I not Googled to check my spelling I wouldn't have know he was a Dante character - so it's entirely possible that I've totally missed the point of this book!)
(I'm not nearly familiar enough with Dante to know anything about Belacqua in his work. Had I not Googled to check my spelling I wouldn't have know he was a Dante character - so it's entirely possible that I've totally missed the point of this book!)
did-not-finish
March 21, 2019Pretentious drivel. Bailed on page 3. Blech!
October 11, 2024
Lobster hell…finally
Read
March 21, 2025thank you random person on the train who overheard my conversation about lobsters and gave this to me - I understand why you were okay to give it away
July 17, 2020
I read in English but this review is in Bahasa Indonesia
Faber Stories merupakan serial kecil-kecil seperti milik Penguin Classic. Dengan cerita yang terkadang hanya 50 halaman, aku bisa berkenalan dengan penulis-penulis lain seperti Samuel Beckett, nama yang asing bagiku.
Dante and the Lobster sebuah cerita pendek yang...benar-benar pendek. Kisahnya tentang keputusan Dante untuk memasak lobster sebagai menu makan malamnya. Tetapi dia punya beberapa pertimbangan. Itulah yang menjadi fokus cerita ini.
Sebelumnya, ada yang mengatakan bahwa tulisan Beckett bersifat abstrak dan susah dipahami. Aku yang tanpa persiapan apapun, berusaha untuk tidak memasukkan hal tersebut ke dalam kepalaku. Khawatir bahwa aku menjadi defensif padahal belum membaca tulisannya.
Rupanya, Dante and the Lobster ini tidak sulit untuk diikuti. Premis sederhananya itu memang abstrak. Namun yang aku pahami, itulah yang ingin disampaikan oleh Beckett. Abstraknya kisah "petualangan" Dante dan lobster itu bagaikan hidup manusia. Halang rintang dan banyaknya pilihan yang datang ya sama seperti kehidupan kita sehari-hari.
Well, thought Belacqua, it's a quick death, God help us all.
It is not.
Faber Stories merupakan serial kecil-kecil seperti milik Penguin Classic. Dengan cerita yang terkadang hanya 50 halaman, aku bisa berkenalan dengan penulis-penulis lain seperti Samuel Beckett, nama yang asing bagiku.
Dante and the Lobster sebuah cerita pendek yang...benar-benar pendek. Kisahnya tentang keputusan Dante untuk memasak lobster sebagai menu makan malamnya. Tetapi dia punya beberapa pertimbangan. Itulah yang menjadi fokus cerita ini.
Sebelumnya, ada yang mengatakan bahwa tulisan Beckett bersifat abstrak dan susah dipahami. Aku yang tanpa persiapan apapun, berusaha untuk tidak memasukkan hal tersebut ke dalam kepalaku. Khawatir bahwa aku menjadi defensif padahal belum membaca tulisannya.
Rupanya, Dante and the Lobster ini tidak sulit untuk diikuti. Premis sederhananya itu memang abstrak. Namun yang aku pahami, itulah yang ingin disampaikan oleh Beckett. Abstraknya kisah "petualangan" Dante dan lobster itu bagaikan hidup manusia. Halang rintang dan banyaknya pilihan yang datang ya sama seperti kehidupan kita sehari-hari.
February 10, 2019
Beckett is a play write whom I have a lot of respect for. He helped pushed the medium of theatre with plays such as Not I which is unlike anything that has been done before and since. Although I always feel Beckett walks a fine line between creative and clever works and utter pretentiousness seen in plays such as Breath which can be scarcely seen as a play at all. I feel like this short story for the most part sits on the more pretentious side of Beckett's work. It all felt very snide, making as much pompous sub-text as possible in a very disingenuous way. I feel like a lot of great authors use sub-text to get their meaning across in a way that seems necessary and intelligent without being snide. With this story nothing of worth really happens till the last page which I will admit gave me a shiver and was written superbly. However I cant forgive twenty or so pages of drivel that is made for the soul purpose of sounding clever.
Read
July 11, 2022kendi kendime samuel beckett anlayacağımı düşünmem çok özel…
June 6, 2023
“His whole being was being strained forward towards the joy”
September 10, 2020
all I can say is ?????
March 22, 2025
to the stranger on the overground who handed this book to me and my friend upon hearing us talk about lobster fighting in dnd, I hope you have a great day
November 4, 2021
i will kiss beckett on the lips and give him the most rotten bit of gorgonzola in the world if it would make him happy
Read
November 27, 2024His aunt was in the garden, tending whatever flowers die at that time of year. [28]
November 22, 2020
Delightful. Lighthearted in its tone, and deep in its meaning. And probably is much easier to read than it was to write for it is obvious that every word was chosen with the utmost care and not one is out of place.
It was overlooked at the time it was first published as part of his More Pricks Than Kicks short story collections in 1934. And it took a while for the story to gain the acclamation it most surely deserves.
In this story, the premise is simple. The main character Belacqua,’s puzzled reading of The Divine Comedy is interrupted by the clock striking twelve, prompting him to move on to the rest of his duties for the day: “Three large obligations presented themselves: First, lunch, then the lobster, then the Italian lesson.”
So the irritable Belacqua goes on with his chores in a comical manner bordering on the obsessive. “He looked sceptically at the cut of cheese. He turned it over on its back to see was the side any better. The other side was worse. They had laid it better side up, they had practised the little deception. Who shall blame them? He rubbed it. It was sweating. That was something. He stooped and smelt it. A faint fragrance of corruption. What good was that? He didn’t want fragrance, he wasn’t a bloody gourmet, he wanted a good stench.”
Belacqua’s journey from lunch to the purchase of the lobster to his Italian lesson is full of realisations and surprises big and small - gorgonzola cheese doesn’t have to be green to be tasty, his progress in Italian is not what he thought it was, he bought a live lobster – accompanied by the ongoing wondering about the fate of Mac Cabe, the local serial killer on death row.
Mac Cabe, the personification of death, is only ever mentioned in passing, but recurrently, like an unpleasant thought one might shoo away by concentrating on something else. However, he provides the story with its dark depth, counterbalancing the mundanity of Belacqua’s chores.
Without him, the story would not work as well, becoming a mere comedy, albeit a good one. And without the comedic elements, the impending doom of Mac Cabe and the Lobster, along with the shameless reminder of our own mortality, would be a right downer.
Short story telling at its finest.
It was overlooked at the time it was first published as part of his More Pricks Than Kicks short story collections in 1934. And it took a while for the story to gain the acclamation it most surely deserves.
In this story, the premise is simple. The main character Belacqua,’s puzzled reading of The Divine Comedy is interrupted by the clock striking twelve, prompting him to move on to the rest of his duties for the day: “Three large obligations presented themselves: First, lunch, then the lobster, then the Italian lesson.”
So the irritable Belacqua goes on with his chores in a comical manner bordering on the obsessive. “He looked sceptically at the cut of cheese. He turned it over on its back to see was the side any better. The other side was worse. They had laid it better side up, they had practised the little deception. Who shall blame them? He rubbed it. It was sweating. That was something. He stooped and smelt it. A faint fragrance of corruption. What good was that? He didn’t want fragrance, he wasn’t a bloody gourmet, he wanted a good stench.”
Belacqua’s journey from lunch to the purchase of the lobster to his Italian lesson is full of realisations and surprises big and small - gorgonzola cheese doesn’t have to be green to be tasty, his progress in Italian is not what he thought it was, he bought a live lobster – accompanied by the ongoing wondering about the fate of Mac Cabe, the local serial killer on death row.
Mac Cabe, the personification of death, is only ever mentioned in passing, but recurrently, like an unpleasant thought one might shoo away by concentrating on something else. However, he provides the story with its dark depth, counterbalancing the mundanity of Belacqua’s chores.
Without him, the story would not work as well, becoming a mere comedy, albeit a good one. And without the comedic elements, the impending doom of Mac Cabe and the Lobster, along with the shameless reminder of our own mortality, would be a right downer.
Short story telling at its finest.
February 20, 2023
I'm not exactly firing on all cylinders today after dealing with pronounced fatigue and mild febrile symptoms after my Covid booster, so I probably wasn't in the best mindset to analyse this work. Nevertheless, I think that this is a pretty weak showing from one of literature's greatest voices ("Not I" and Waiting for Godot are simply masterful); Beckett tamps the story so full of allusions that the reader simply feels overwhelmed to delve into each one, which wouldn't be a problem had he invested more in refining the prose (there are so many lethargic sentences and paragraphs here) and given us greater insight into each of the characters. Yes, the protagonist is humorously pedantic, but a lot of the prose curbs the comic qualities of many descriptions by being too verbose (their self-assurance I'll put down to a bit of a free indirect discourse being employed by Beckett due to the noted Joyce influence, even if some parts feel ironic in how Beckett comes off as a haughty as his protagonist).
I did enjoy the very last page though with the unexpected dread Beckett is Abel to drum up from an activity involving the titular lobster, and it's interesting to consider who exactly is serving as the narrator, but these in no way make up for this presumptuous little story.
I did enjoy the very last page though with the unexpected dread Beckett is Abel to drum up from an activity involving the titular lobster, and it's interesting to consider who exactly is serving as the narrator, but these in no way make up for this presumptuous little story.
February 17, 2025
O mais interessante deste primeiro conto de "More Pricks Than Kicks" é que em poucas páginas junta uma certa incredulidade literária, um solipsismo do pequeno hábito e, finalmente, uma conclusão triste e inevitável. Por outras palavras, um intelectualismo precoce, a ironia becketiana e o drama existencial.
*
"In the depths of the sea it had crept into the cruel pot. For hours, in the midst of its enemies, it had breathed secretly. It had survived the Frenchwoman’s cat and his witless clutch. Now it was going alive into scalding water. It had to. Take into the air my quiet breath.
Belacqua looked at the old parchment of her face, grey in the dim kitchen.
“You make a fuss” she said angrily “and upset me and then lash into it for your dinner.”
She lifted the lobster clear of the table. It had about thirty seconds to live.
Well, thought Belacqua, it’s a quick death, God help us all.
It is not."
*
"In the depths of the sea it had crept into the cruel pot. For hours, in the midst of its enemies, it had breathed secretly. It had survived the Frenchwoman’s cat and his witless clutch. Now it was going alive into scalding water. It had to. Take into the air my quiet breath.
Belacqua looked at the old parchment of her face, grey in the dim kitchen.
“You make a fuss” she said angrily “and upset me and then lash into it for your dinner.”
She lifted the lobster clear of the table. It had about thirty seconds to live.
Well, thought Belacqua, it’s a quick death, God help us all.
It is not."
December 30, 2020
Boring and mostly pointless. I think it's supposed to be about death, the idea that death is inevitable and present, even in a horrifying form, in the small aspects of everyday life. Throughout the story the main character tries not to think of a serial killer on death row, about to be sentenced to death, and at the same time he obsesses over picking up a lobster for dinner which, it turns out on the last page, is still alive when he picks it up and is now sentenced to death, hideously, by boiling. But it was a real chore reading through most of the pages. I think part of the problem is that the writing is both difficult and unrewarding - it tells you all these tiny details but makes you do all of the work of trying to find meaning and connection. I still don't see how Dante fits into anything unless Beckett thinks that The Divine Comedy is technically related to everything. This is a lazy, shallow, insulting short story.
January 28, 2025
"Lunch, to come off at all, was a very nice affair. If his lunch was to be enjoyable, and it could be very enjoyable indeed, he must be left in absolute tranquillity to prepare it."
Beckett, to me, seems like one of the authors like Tolstoy, Joyce and others who have big reputable works that seem quite daunting before you read them. After watching Waiting for Godot with the amazing actors Ben Whishaw and Lucian Msamati, as well as reading a little Jon Fosse who admires Beckett, made the task less daunting.
This is one of his earlier works, but touches of his unique flair are still there. It was a good book to get into and followed the plot quite nicely. I didn't love it so much as to think it was the greatest thing ever written, but it was a good taster of his work. I also wasn't a fan of the casual misogyny in this book either.
Beckett, to me, seems like one of the authors like Tolstoy, Joyce and others who have big reputable works that seem quite daunting before you read them. After watching Waiting for Godot with the amazing actors Ben Whishaw and Lucian Msamati, as well as reading a little Jon Fosse who admires Beckett, made the task less daunting.
This is one of his earlier works, but touches of his unique flair are still there. It was a good book to get into and followed the plot quite nicely. I didn't love it so much as to think it was the greatest thing ever written, but it was a good taster of his work. I also wasn't a fan of the casual misogyny in this book either.
October 23, 2021
Has an experimental vibe to it. It’s such a simple story, and not even sure if it can be called a ‘story’, as all 30 pages are solely about ‘lunch, a lobster, an Italian lesson’, and nothing beyond. Yet obsessive details were given so a humorous effect is achieved. Personally I really love the part where Belacqua lashing out at the shopkeeper about the poor quality he thought the cheese was, and then just to find out it was better than it looked. Also, the ending was just pure genius. He’s really that shocked to find out the lobster was alive the whole time and felt at lost when his aunt said ‘Lobsters are supposed to be cooked alive.’ Made my day.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 19, 2025
I definitely feel like I missed the point of the writing. I was really expecting some magnificent prose based on who Samuel's mentor supposedly was, but was met with a strange story.
The main plot is really about an individual working through a day of tasks that included a lunch, the lobster, and a lesson in Italian linguistics. The lunch was just a strange scene in and of itself. I believe I even lost the point of it altogether (burnt toast, some spicy sauce, and gorgonzola cheese). Then, the scene with the lobster and his teach. Finally, the ending with the lobster and his aunt.
Like i said, maybe I missed the point of the short story, but what in the hell did I just read?
The main plot is really about an individual working through a day of tasks that included a lunch, the lobster, and a lesson in Italian linguistics. The lunch was just a strange scene in and of itself. I believe I even lost the point of it altogether (burnt toast, some spicy sauce, and gorgonzola cheese). Then, the scene with the lobster and his teach. Finally, the ending with the lobster and his aunt.
Like i said, maybe I missed the point of the short story, but what in the hell did I just read?
February 9, 2019
Wacky Beckett
A short tale opening More Pricks Than Kicks, quite short to be sold individually, but giving a glance into the mind and style of the younger, prewar author. Belacqua drawn from the outside in third person, is an unpleasant protagonist as indeed many of the later monologuists are if examined closely, but Beckett here still seems to have some creative distance from the misanthropy of his character. Even so none of the other characters excite our pure sympathies and you can almost feel the unconscious delight at such a clear round of likeability.
A short tale opening More Pricks Than Kicks, quite short to be sold individually, but giving a glance into the mind and style of the younger, prewar author. Belacqua drawn from the outside in third person, is an unpleasant protagonist as indeed many of the later monologuists are if examined closely, but Beckett here still seems to have some creative distance from the misanthropy of his character. Even so none of the other characters excite our pure sympathies and you can almost feel the unconscious delight at such a clear round of likeability.
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