"The sun was dragging itself up, dispatching on its way what perhaps would be, thanks to it, a glorious May or April day, April more likely, it is doubtless the Easter week-end, spent by Jesus in hell."

My second novel by Beckett, Malone Dies was even more devoid of plot than Molloy. Somehow, this made me like it all the better. It is quite literally the ramblings of a dying man considering his fate to cease to exist, but it provides so many ways to think about life in the process. I love the sentences that Beckett constructs and how odd they get. The end is a bit rapid and confusing, but necessarily so, and I definitely want to analyze it more as it suddenly introduces new characters that were not there before. I have read these two Beckett novels for a class that is nearly over, but they have made me want to read The Unnamable and Watt. There is something about the experience of reading jumbled rantings on existence that makes me feel connected to the pains and joys of the world, and I really appreciate what Beckett has done.