On Fragments: A Piece of Art and the “I” – or Not
The Part and the Whole
Can we approach and understand what appears to be only a piece of some-thing – a scrap of text, a portion of a body, a slice of a life – as somehow complete in itself, its own whole, say? One Beckett theater piece is called A Piece of Monologue(Beckett 1984a: 263–270), for instance, but they are all what we call pieces of art. What are the implications if art can only ever be a piece of something or someone, a fragment – that is, the whole, of a story, of a life, say, would take a lifetime to present, and that life could never be complete, whole, say, until it ended. Until then life, and so art, since art has no other subject, is an unstable, elusive entity, a work in progress. If we posit that the necessary condition of art is the fragment or that art itself can only be achieved, perceived or witnessed as fragmented, an entity with missing parts, perhaps, and so includes or is based on an absence, it offers, thereby, the presence of absence – or art as making absence present – most often through an image. This is especially the case with theater during which we witness a presentation, the presentness of absence, since art entails the condition of incomple-tion rather than completion; a completion, on the other hand, tends to arrest or stop, to shut down possibilities. A brash, youthful Samuel Beckett put the matter thus: “[…] art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear, does not make clear […]” (Beckett 1984b: 94) or “whole,” we might add.
But if art is a fragment or a piece, what precisely might it be a fragment or piece of? In the chapter Art, a Fragment from The Sense of the World, the late French