Meaningless

                I've never really been the greatest fan when it comes to existential or absurdist literature, simply because I don’t see how writing about something with no point shows that reality itself has no point.  While I would say that the world does at times feel like such a jumbled mess and one can really lose sight of the point of everything, writing something that is meant to not be interpreted and have no meaning in the end means exactly that: nothing.  To me Waiting for Godot is more the ramblings of a bunch of mad men than some revealing and profound message about the pointlessness of life.  Samuel Beckett even insists that absolutely no meaning or point should be gleaned from his play, so in the end what is even the point of reading it?  That of course is not to say that it is bad and should be read, just simply that if nothing is meant to be learned then really one simply comes away from it the same as they were when they went in.  The very way and style it is presented is confusing and convoluted.  Acts I and II are in essence the same thing, and even the characters themselves recognize it to an extent, although some are very resistant to the idea.  Sure, some things are a bit different in the second act, but when it is broken down the core of it all it is all basically a mirror of the first act.  The strangely blinded Pozzo says that “the blind have no notion of time.”  This really reflects all the characters, as none of them really know what the time ever is, where they are, or if they have ever talked with these odd people before.  Both this constant lack of knowledge, specifically about time, and the cyclical nature of the events in the play only seem to twist and confuse things rather than make them clearer.  In the end, I still don’t see the point of writing something without an actual point, and what is really just a conglomeration of madness.