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Beckett
[ bek-it ]
noun
- Samuel, 1906–1989, Irish playwright and novelist, living in France: Nobel Prize in Literature 1969.
Beckett
/ ˈbɛkɪt /
noun
- BeckettDameMargaret Mary1943FBritishPOLITICS: politicianPOLITICS: stateswoman Margaret Mary . Dame. born 1943, British Labour politician; leader of the House of Commons (1998–2001); secretary of state for environment, food, and rural affairs (2001–2006); foreign secretary (2006– 07)
- BeckettSamuel (Barclay)19061989MIrishTHEATRE: dramatistWRITING: novelist Samuel ( Barclay ). 1906–89, Irish dramatist and novelist writing in French and English, whose works portray the human condition as insignificant or absurd in a bleak universe. They include the plays En attendant Godot ( Waiting for Godot , 1952), Fin de partie ( Endgame , 1957), and Not I (1973) and the novel Malone meurt ( Malone Dies , 1951): Nobel prize for literature 1969
Example Sentences
Driving on a twisty road at night, Beckett falls asleep at the wheel.
Beckett comes to, injured and bloody, and although the police at first seem inclined to help, it’s not long before Beckett realizes he’s their prey, for no discernible reason.
Also, no one speaks much English, and the character’s lines aren’t subtitled, an interesting choice that drives home Beckett’s feelings of helplessness and alienation.
Beckett has no idea why the cops are so interested in shooting him dead.
The first venture of the company’s offshoot, New Group Off Stage, is this version of Beckett’s absurdist masterwork — a play set in the ether of the open-ended, existential unknowable.
“Novelist good for nothing else,” said Samuel Beckett, and that ought to be taken as a compliment.
The title of his first novel is taken from DeLillo, the second from Beckett.
This isn't a comic, it's a Beckett play with barnyard animals.
He seems to put more store these days in Glenn Beck than Beckett.
Kabakov is the Beckett of the art world, creating silences and divorcing himself from the cackle.
Mis' Hate-evil Beckett, says she, 'It does make my man feel dreadful to see his brother's folks carry on so.'
When Carpentier knocked out Beckett with one perfectly delivered punch he also jarred Shaw.
He sipped the wine, wondering dimly what Frank Beckett-Smythe was enduring and how he would explain that black eye.
Martin, to whom Angèle clung in speechless fear, and the two Beckett-Smythes alone were left.
Before Mr. Beckett-Smythe sat down to dinner that evening a very unpleasant duty had been thrust on him.
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