a little colour comes back into the cheeks and the eyes... [Reverently.]...
open. [Pause.] Then down a little way.... (133)
It is generally held (see Esslin above) that the radio listener automatically
tries to visualize a scene like this one, to picture the lovers in the ¤eld of
rye, coming together. But I think the speech just quoted, far from evoking a
scene, is like a sound poem: the repetition of the assonantal “the brows un-
cloud” and the intricate sound structuring of li in “the nostrils dilate, the lips
part,” leading up to the repetition of “the eyes,” which, the third time round,
“open.” Words now has all the music he needs to complete the story. And
with Croak gone, Words can indulge himself and let the Proustian involun-
tary memory take over. One cannot, the sound piece suggests, invoke The
Face or Love intentionally, for such invocation leads to nothing but talking
about. But to let go, to let, as it were, nonsemantic sound take the lead, pro-
duces the epiphany of the second song, which begins:
Then down a little way
Through the trash
Towards where... towards where.... (133)Compared to the previous ballad, this poem, written in even more minimal
lines, bearing two to four stresses, takes us, in language much more chaste
than “Age is when to a man,” to the bedrock of feeling. The poet, trans¤gured
by love, can now accept the descent “down a little way / Through the trash.”
The soul empties out: “All dark, no begging, no giving, no words, / No sense,
no need.” Music, playing soft chromatic scales, leads the way while the poet
sings, “Through the scum / Down a little way / To whence one glimpse / Of
that wellhead.” The sentence is left in suspension: the “wellhead” as goal re-
mains a mystery. When these words are repeated, it is music that announces
the melody and then becomes a discreet accompanist to Words. It is the ¤nal
consummation: both parties now note that Croak is gone. “My Lord,” Joe
repeats twice, anxiously looking after Croak, and, turning for the ¤rst time
to “Bob,” begging him to respond.
It is a remarkable moment: Joe reaches out to his former antagonist, Bob,
with a certain deference. Bob makes a brief “rude” musical ®ourish and sud-
denly becomes silent, so that it is now Words who summons Music with a
sense of urgency. The situation of the radio play’s opening has been com-
pletely reversed. When Music plays a short teasing chord, Words begs “Again!
[Pause. Imploring.] Again!” Music obliges but only for a moment, the soft
Acoustic Art in Beckett’s Radio Plays 127