Four Stars for this difficult but important book in the history of literature.
It challenges the conventions and will not in the end event, closed it with gusto this trilogy in which the mobility of characters tapering.
Beckett going to the roots of the novel, language, explores the darkest nooks and goes to the limits of the narrative, there remains no logical path to drive to cling to, no certainty, only speculation from a person who is not sure to be one, its body, its identity are blurred, fragmented, unknown. The narrator is reduced to a voice that he doubts even the existence, is it the result of an invention, a lie, an idea? It is not even sure of his identity, the other recurring characters of these three novels-they would not come from her imagination?
Lu loud music emanates from this monologue and gives body. Some parts are very funny as long as it likes black and absurd humor.
