The Parallels Between the Glossolalia and the Theatre of the Absurd

Abstract

The primary focus of this article is on the deconstruction of language within the context of glossolalia and the Theatre of the Absurd. Following World War II, the expression of absurdity in the literature and theatre gave rise to the Theatre of the Absurd as an anti-literary movement. Glossolalia appears both in the first Christian communities and within the charismatic renewal movement in modern times and refers to the gift of speaking in tongues. The objective of comparing these two occurrences is to identify their similarities and differences in their treatment of the language. Both glossolalia and the Theatre of the Absurd contain destructive aspects as they disintegrate language, but they also contain creative elements; glossolalia is prayer, and the Theatre of the Absurd has artistic merit. To consider the extent to which language deconstruction might serve as a prelude to creative endeavours, this analogy appears to be significant.

1. Introduction

The deconstruction of metaphysics appears within the framework of Derrida’s philosophy and primarily concerns the relationship between Logos, reality, and language. This philosophic framework will be employed to assess both the Theatre of the Absurd and glossolalia, mainly since both involve the deconstruction of language. The Theatre of the Absurd appears within theatre and literature, and the way it deconstructs language is through meaningless actions on stage, uttering meaningless sentences, and using non-existent words or syllables. Glossolalia appears in the time of the first Christians and in modern times. In terms of their appearance, this text will not distinguish between the glossolalia of the early Christians and that of the modern era, because there is no evidence that it is, or is not, the same thing, but in terms of motivation (the starting point of the glossolalia of the early and modern Christians), a distinction will be made. To examine glossolalia as a phenomenon and its associated features, this work will draw analyses within the framework of the Catholic Church’s pastoral directives on charismatic movements in the contemporary days (HBK 2020).

The first parts of the text include the fundamental aspects of the Theatre of the Absurd and glossolalia. The expression of nonsense that takes place in the Theatre of the Absurd and the use of the meaningless words and syllables in glossolalia will next be considered. Through a comparison of glossolalia and Theatre of the Absurd, the query of why the breakdown of language in these two occurrences leads to opposing places—one to sense, the other to nonsense—will be discussed. The final section of the article addresses the deconstruction of language in glossolalia and the Theatre of the Absurd. The relationship between language and poetry in Heidegger’s philosophy as well as Derrida’s apocalypticism and deconstruction of language will be reflected here. By comparing the glossolalia and Theatre of the Absurd in the context of deconstruction, it will be possible to identify both their similarities and differences.

2. Theatre of the Absurd and Religion

After two major wars, the Theatre of the Absurd appeared as a reflection of the meaninglessness of the world (Esslin 1961, p. 290). One of its main theorists, Martin Esslin, characterizes it as an attempt to radicalize the degradation of language since the experience on stage transcends language and nullify the words spoken by the protagonists (Kurir-Borovčić 2004, pp. 42–43). The Theatre of the Absurd becomes close to religious issues when ultimate reliability falls away—if not for God’s glory, then at least to awaken awareness of the ultimate realities of the human condition and to free it from its self-indulgent and mechanical existence (Esslin 1961, p. 291). Religious allusions in Beckett’s Waiting for Godot have been the subject of discussion by many theorists. Accordingly, Jing Wang refers to Christian motives; the name Godot is evocative of God, and descriptions of Godot’s appearance reveal some similarities to God. Godot’s attributes bear symbolic similarities to God because Godot can save, punish, or care for a person (Wang 2011, p. 197). Wang claims that the play’s two vagrants represent humanity’s loss of religious inheritance and subsequent spiritual misery (Wang 2011, p. 197). The characters in this anti-drama have a deep yearning for God’s salvation despite their pointless dialogue and ridiculous gestures (Wang 2011, p. 198).

Yudie Zhang asserts that Beckett used biblical content in Waiting for Godot in an exceptional way. The play has numerous references to the Bible. According to the young boy in Acts I, he and his sibling are responsible for Godot’s goats and sheep. Beckett’s also incorporates the parable of the two criminals from Luke 23:39–43. Furthermore, the solitary tree is easily recognized as a representation of the tree of knowledge of Good and Evil or the Christian cross. Zhang notes that according to certain readings, God and Godot are the same. Pozzo’s blindness, which makes him resemble Bartimaeus, or “The Blind Beggar,” from the Bible, is another, however less evident, possibly religious element of the play. The play also refers to repentance, the Gospels, a Savior, human beings made in God’s image, the cross, and Cain and Abel, among other obviously Christian themes. The play’s depictions of Godot are based on the Old Testament God described in the Book of Daniel. Vladimir and Estragon had asked the youngster what colour Godot’s beard is. When the response is “white,” Vladimir says, “Christ have mercy on us!” (Beckett 1954, p. 59). Zhang discerns that Godot is obviously the God, yet Beckett’s Godot (God) is a whimsical being who never fulfils his promises; he treats the youngster tasked with caring for his goats well while punishing the boy who cares for his sheep without cause. Sheep and goats also have biblical importance. Zhang highlights that Beckett faces criticism for both his favourable assessment of God and his unfavourable view of religion, and that Beckett’s views on God are ambivalent so his play Waiting for Godot reflects this ambiguity (Zhang 2024).

Regardless of its many religious references in Waiting for Godot, Beckett’s intention to inspire the reader to seek meaning in faith cannot be deduced from the text itself. However, we might consider it in the larger framework of the quest for the inexplicable. Esslin claims that the Theatre of the Absurd can be considered a more comprehensive and widespread endeavour to convey metaphysical experience (Esslin 1961, p. 313), which is accomplished through ludicrous acts and seemingly pointless words. The exposure to non-sense arises by the breakdown of language and structures of sense. According to Chin-Yi, this loss of meaning and sense is a psychotic breakdown that occurs as a coping mechanism for the inability of rationality to provide meaningful existence. This includes the descent into private language and solipsism, where madness appears as an escape from overwhelming suffering in the absence of divine mercy and a transcendental logos that would give meaning to existence (Chung 2014, p. 2). Didi and Gogo strive for the space “in between,” which is neither being nor nothing, and Beckett thereby expresses the schizophrenia of the situation where both the failure of Identity and the collapse of the Absolute have occurred (Chung 2014, p. 2). According to Chin-Yi, Beckett undermined the notion of fundamental principles and the substance of things more than any other writer of the twentieth century (Chung 2014, p. 3). He achieves this by breaking down the semantic properties of language, the relationship between language and reality, and, lastly, the word itself, which is the fundamental element of language.

Martin Esslin examines the Theatre of the Absurd’s significance in connection to religious systems rather than seeing it as a means of expressing pure absurdity. According to him, the Theatre of the Absurd touches on the theological realm to address the human condition—not in terms of intellectual comprehension but rather in terms of conveying metaphysical truth via the experience of existence. He emphasizes the difference between knowledge in a conceptual sense and experiential knowledge. Namely, it is characteristic of all great religions that they do not only possess theoretical knowledge but also communicate the essence of their doctrine in real life (Esslin 1961, p. 312). Even though humanity has valid philosophical theories and scientific procedures, the inability to turn them into a live reality is difficult and destructive (Esslin 1961, p. 313). Religions, in his opinion, have a significant advantage in this context because religion encounters liberation precisely where philosophy and science perceive limitation. Esslin notes that humanity’s incapacity to comprehend the meaning of the universe somehow acknowledges God’s transcendence and his otherness, and it was at this very moment that the great mystics felt both delight and liberation. As an analogy to the methods and imagination of mysticism, the Theatre of the Absurd has been influential in demonstrating that ultimate realities cannot be reached just by conceptual understanding (Esslin 1961, pp. 315–16).

A contemporary literary theorist, Michael Y. Bennett, has adopted stances that differ from Esslin’s. Bennett argues that Esslin posits that the Theatre of the Absurd contemplates the “metaphysical anguish of the absurdity of the human condition,” and instead Bennett suggests that the Theatre of the Absurd is a revolt against existentialism and is an ethical parable that forces the audience to make life meaningful. He contends that by re-examining Albert Camus’s ideas, the plays that make up the Theatre of the Absurd might be understood in a different way. Our entire interpretation of the Theatre of the Absurd can be rethought if we read Camus as he is currently understood—not as an existentialist, as he was originally thought, but rather as someone who is revolting against existentialism. In contrast to Esslin’s approach, Bennett adopts a generic, structural approach that provides additional resources for interpreting these plays (Bennett 2011, p. 2). Bennett is considering Camus’s interpretation for two reasons. First, Camus is the philosopher Esslin chooses to discuss, and the key to comprehending the Theatre of the Absurd is Camus’s quotation from The Myth of Sisyphus that appears in Esslin’s book. Second, Camus was mentioned as Eugène Ionesco’s influence (Bennett 2011, p. 3). Bennett claims that Esslin was right when he said that the authors of the Theatre of the Absurd simply portray the world as absurd without attempting to define it or to dispute if it is absurd. Camus, on the other hand, simply asserts absurdity as a given. For Camus the question is: Given that the world is absurd, what should one do? He states that Camus and these playwrights are thinking about the effects of our absurd situations and the actions that follow. Although it is not mentioned in these plays, the question is how one may find meaning in such a world (Bennett 2011, p. 4). Bennett claims that the purpose of the Theatre of the Absurd is to provide sense to our absurd situations, not emphasize absurdity (Bennett 2011, p. 4). The legacy of Esslin’s book aided in the continued old assumptions of Camus’s view of absurdity and asserts that according to Camus, if we acknowledge the absurdity of our situation and stop trying to find meaning and purpose where none exists, then we can revolt against the absurd and create meaning and purpose for ourselves (Bennett 2011, p. 11). Camus did consider why we shouldn’t commit suicide in The Myth of Sisyphus. Despite the absurdity and contradictions of a human’s situations, he believes that suicide is the wrong course of action because it entails giving up. The absurd should not be ignored; rather, it should be faced head-on (Bennett 2011, p. 12). Bennett says that according to Camus, absurdity is fundamentally a paradox—more precisely, the conflict between our wishes and the available world—which compels us to comprehend the paradox. Our life can only have purpose when we reflect on the paradox. This is essentially what the plays of the Theatre of the Absurd and parables do according to Bennett (Bennett 2011, p. 14). He asserts that even though Esslin’s Theatre of the Absurd’s legacy has endured and has not faced any challenges, it does not necessarily comment on the purposelessness of life. He supports that claim with some recent scholars who have, either directly or indirectly, started to see the absurd playwrights, at least, addressing the question of meaning rather than categorically rejecting the possibility of having meaning in this world. He suggests that meaning-making, not meaninglessness, is integral to the plays characterized as absurd, as he thinks that Esslin mistook Camus for an existentialist (Bennett 2011, p. 8).

Ronald Aronson also claims that the Mith of Sisyphus shows Sisyphus’s triumph over a life in which the being is exhorted toward accomplishing nothing. Sisyphus reminds us that we cannot help seeking to understand the reality that transcends our intelligence, striving to grasp more than our limited and practical scientific understanding allows, wishing to live without dying. Like Sisyphus, we are our fate, and our frustration is our very life: we can never escape it. Yet, Sisyphus does not despair. Aware of absurdity, lucidly living the tension of the human condition, Sisyphus knows himself to be the master of his days by becoming conscious of (Aronson 2024, p. 130).

There are certain difficulties with such interpretations of the relationship between Camus and the Theatre of the Absurd and absurdity in general because the following constitutes the ultimate points of absurdity:

(a)

Humans’ ability to comprehend the transcendent

(b)

What is the purpose of that ability if humans are merely the accumulation of molecules?

In such a view of life, we can only close our eyes to the absurdity of the confluence of these two points to continue living. So, absurd is absurd only if one can neither construct nor invent meaning nor deceive oneself regarding sense. That is the seriousness and hardness of the absurd and occurs when we face without compromising the fact that humans are made to comprehend the transcendent and that, if they do not believe in God, it is pointless to have such a constitution. It seems that Bennett softens what is truly absurd in the Theatre of the Absurd. According to him, the absurd was a situation rather than a life sentence of destined meaninglessness in which it is up to us to give our lives purpose via a revolt, defiance, and contemplation (Bennett 2011, p. 10). This could be interpreted as disregarding the question: what use does it serve for humans to be able to comprehend the transcendent if they are mortal? In other words, if there is a God, it makes sense; if there is no God, it makes no sense. In Waiting for Godot there is no other choice for Didi and Gogo but to hang themselves if Godot does not come tomorrow. Thus, there are two possibilities: either Godot will come, and they will be saved, or Godot will not come, and they will hang themselves.

Bennett points out that as Camus suggested in The Rebel, the audience must reconcile the contradictions to find purpose in life and learn how to live in this world. Contradictions are a part of life, and in the absence of a God-like or other framework for giving the world meaning, we must reflect on our circumstances to give our lives purpose. Any play that imposes meaning on us is, in a sense, imposing a false authority on us to comprehend our life (Bennett 2011, p. 21). Bennett says:

“In contrast to the standard reading of the play, I believe this play has nothing to do with hope, but, rather, it has to with becoming your own personal savior and biding time, especially with friends. Estragon and Vladimir bide our time: they become our personal saviors and make the world bearable for us and them.”

(Bennett 2011, p. 24)

These explanations are kind of insufficient; Didi and Gogo are not killing themselves just because they are still waiting, not because they have found any kind of meaning or comfort or relief. There are two possible outcomes: either Godot will appear and save them, or he will not, and they will hang themselves and there is no middle ground here. Their absurdity is much harder than Bennett suggests, and they are absurd characters precisely because they are waiting. Although the situation is presented as either they will meet Godot or they will hang themselves, they wait. And for that very reason, they are absurd characters. This demonstrates Beckett’s ambivalence. According to Zhang, the discussion of Samuel Beckett and the problem of God includes a consideration of ambiguity. His ambivalent approach toward his religious background has generated quite a lot of controversy and confusion when critics try to understand his perspective on God. Zhang claims that Waiting for Godot reflects Beckett’s conflicted feelings regarding God. The play emphasizes the significance of redemption, but it also seems to undermine the concept by mocking it and highlighting the absurdity of waiting for God to step in. In Waiting for Godot, Beckett tries to show the absurdity by illustrating the ambiguity related to religion. Zhang asserts that the religious issues in Waiting for Godot are a result of Beckett’s religious ambivalence (Zhang 2024).

There appears to be a difference between existentialism and absurdism on such matters (in acceptance of the idea that humans can give their lives purpose, even if it is not transcendent). We have to consider Dostoevsky’s question of purpose in relation to the absolute, which he raised prior to absurdism and existentialism. The argument put forth by Ivan Karamazov is that everything is permitted and there is no virtue if there is no immortality of the soul or if there is no God (Dostoevsky 1960, p. 98). On the other hand, Albert Camus maintains that the subject of suicide is a genuinely serious problem in philosophy (Camus 1998, p. 9). The second idea is grounded on humanistic anthropology, whereas the first has implications for Christianity. The rationale and assumption of all morals, purpose, and even existence itself are ultimately called into question by these two ideas if there is no, in Karamazov’s case, the absolute (God), and in Camus’s case, sense. Every aspect of meaning itself must be based on some contingently determined criterion if there is no absolute to ensure the ultimate criterion. Can we talk about the veracity of any judgement if everything is dependent on some contingent criterion?

Bennett says that the elusive and complex nature of absurd literature makes it unattainable to define, and this is the reason why these works may be studied and reinterpreted repeatedly (Bennett 2015, p. 2). The term “absurd” is used to describe a variety of diverse authors who rebelled against traditional theatre in sometimes similar and other times very different ways. According to him, absurdism is not a literary “movement” (Bennett 2015, p. 2). The primary challenge lies in whether discussing absurd literature can be accomplished without redefining the term “absurd” as a reductive category (Bennett 2015, p. 3). Bennett thinks that the problem has been that the various meanings that typically arise from “great literature” are typically reduced to a single theme by labelling and classifying a group of playwrights together by the theme of absurdity—a theme Esslin defines based upon a specific (mis)reading of the philosopher, Albert Camus. Esslin “attaches” the name “The Theatre of the Absurd” to these plays, thus giving them a label. According to Bennett, creating the concept of the “Theatre of the Absurd” was one of Esslin’s primary stated objectives to prevent these plays from being judged in relation to the standards of traditional theatre (Bennett 2015, p. 6).

These all seem to be open concerns in literary theory. To keep from going too far in digression, and since this research does not focus on these kinds of concerns, the term “The Theater of the Absurd” will be used here conditionally.

3. Glossolalia and Language

The word “glossolalia” comes from the Greek words γλῶσσα (glossa)—tongue as an organ or language as a means of communication—and λαλέω (laleō), which means to speak. In a Christian context, glossolalia is referred to as speaking in other tongues (Acts 10:46; 19:6; 1 Cor 14:5–6, 18, 23, 39), speaking in another language (1 Cor 14:2–4, 13–14, 19:27), human or angelic tongues (1 Cor 13:1), different languages (1 Cor 12:4–12), foreign languages, etc. (Filajdić 2019, p. 4). According to the definition of glossolalia, it is the vocalization of sounds that are only like a language but differ in their semantic and syntactic structure from any other known language (Koić et al. 2005, p. 373). From the perspective of psychopathology, glossolalia does not appear to be associated with psychopathic symptoms but can also result from neurological disorders (Koić et al. 2005, p. 374), and it can also be useful in the treatment of certain mental illnesses (Koić et al. 2005). For Christians, speaking in tongues is a kind of worship, and certain listeners may have abilities for interpreting the language. The interpreter intuitively understands what is being communicated (Koić et al. 2005, p. 376). Glossolalia is described by Celestin Tomić as a spontaneous and potent vibration between speech and silence, a filial surrender, and a prayer of gratitude and delight (Tomić 1976, p. 344). Tomić writes:

“Glossolalia is an ecstatic, mystical, incomprehensible speech that requires an interpreter (1 Cor 14:6). It is a mystical prayer. A gift that Christ promised to the apostles as a sign that would accompany those who believe (“new tongues,” Mk 16:17). This gift is received by the apostles and believers at Pentecost: “other tongues” (Acts 2:4). It is renewed at “the Spirit of the Gentiles” (10:46). It is a mystical prayer in which the “marvellous works of God” are proclaimed (Acts 2:6–11; 19:6). The partition in Babylon with the building of the tower (Gen 11:1—9) now ceases. The peoples of “every language” can understand the message of the Gospel. And the “new language,” of a different nature from this earthly one that separates, is a gift given by the Spirit, which is love. Paul wants to fortify the charismatics in Corinth as well.”

(Tomić 1976, pp. 347–48)

In his critique of the Corinthians’ use of glossolalia, St. Paul highlights that the most significant aspect of their charisma is not its spectacular and striking qualities, but rather that they should be directed toward their source—the Holy Spirit, who bestows gifts for the community’s benefit and the building of Christ’s mystical body. He advises the Corinthians against showing off about glossolalia and against using it if no one in the community can interpret the language for the growth of the Church (Tomić 1976, pp. 347–48).

Jane Clenseur claims that the Old Testament has no reference to glossolalia. Acts 2:1–4 describes the manifestation of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, which includes the gift of speaking in tongues (Clenseur 1972, p. 11). Clenseur provides further examples of glossolalia in the New Testament, including Acts 10:44–46, Acts 19:6, 1 Corinthians 12–14, and Mark 16:17. She notes that at Corinth, glossolalia needed to be interpreted; this was not recorded at the time of Pentecost, when it was an unexpected experience. But in Corinth, it was a lasting gift (Clenseur 1972, p. 12).

Glossolalia has been explained in a variety of, frequently conflicting, ways in respect to the relation between form and content. Clenseur asserts that some interpret it as a speech of sounds without linguistic structure or form. Others claim that speaking in tongues was recognizable at Pentecost and that it is still recognizable today. Rev. Harold Bredesen defines glossolalia as the utterance of the ineffable as the spirit gives utterance (Clenseur 1972, p. 13). Ivan Fuček characterizes glossolalia as spontaneous soul activity and improvisation that manifests as inarticulate expression, shouts, and murmurs (Filajdić 2019, pp. 4–5). Mia Filajdić points out that the use of the word “language” in the context of inarticulate expression is questionable, which suggests that the use of the word “speaking” is also questionable given that speech is the vocal realization of language. According to her, the term “speaking in tongues” raises at least two questions: is it a true language, and is it a true speaking, which implies Saussure’s view on the relationship between speech and language: language is necessary for speech (parole) to be intelligible, and speech is necessary for language to be established (Filajdić 2019, p. 5). According to Robert Banks and Geoffrey Moon, the incomprehensibility in glossolalia should not be controversial since it is a consequence of an intimate and individual prayer, but if the prayer is public, then interpretation is necessary (Filajdić 2019, p. 21). One of the presumptions is that glossolalia is a prayer in ecstasy, where the speakers have no control over the act and their will is entirely left to the Holy Spirit (Filajdić 2019, p. 22). However, Banks and Moon assert that the epistle makes multiple references to control of this gift and that the person who talks in tongues is completely self-aware and capable of controlling this speaking (Filajdić 2019, p. 23). Filajdić discerns the differences between the interpretations of glossolalia in the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistle to the Corinthians; while in Acts everyone understands in their own language (which does not mean that glossolalia is a true humanly understandable language), in the Epistle to the Corinthians no one understands the speech. The biblical scriptures agree on other points: glossolalia occurs under the speaker’s conscious control (Acts 2:4; 1 Cor 14:27) and is a speech addressed to God (Acts 2:4, 11; 1 Cor 14:2) (Filajdić 2019, p. 23).

Although there is no internal structure or systematic connection to the outside world in glossolalia, Francis Sullivan asserts that it cannot be verified that glossolalia does not express thoughts or feelings; it can be a language of prayer and praise in which the semantic element is not communicated (Filajdić 2019, p. 31). According to William Samarin, even though glossa is meaningless, it cannot be considered simple babbling since, unlike glossolalia, babbling has an onomatopoeic background, and glosses contain phonological content, including words, syllables, intonation, phonetic terms, etc. (Filajdić 2019, p. 29). Since there is no correlation between the constituent part of speech and experience, Samarin claims that glosses are always meaningless. He also claims that an interpretation of the glossa is never a literal translation (Filajdić 2019, p. 29). Michael Motley conducted a phonological analysis of glossolalia and discovered that non-glossolalists are incapable of producing the structures that glossolalists make during glossolalia and that every attempt results in mumbling or babbling. Furthermore, Motley identified sounds that are not present in the speaker’s native language but that have some phonological similarities to natural language (Filajdić 2019, p. 31). His study disproves earlier assertions that the native language and the language of glossolalia have similar characteristics (Filajdić 2019, p. 32).

Although glossolalia does not relate to the expression of nonsense, it entails a more drastic break from the structure and semantics of language than is the case with the Theatre of the Absurd. It involves saying words and syllables that do not have a conventional meaning or any meaning at all, which tends to be an expression of gratitude to God. Such a prayer requires an interpretation to benefit the community if it takes place in public or in a group setting (and if it prefers not to remain merely a personal relationship with God).

4. Language, Waiting, and Nonsense

The next sections will examine the parallels between the Theatre of the Absurd and glossolalia in terms of destruction of language. Some plays of the Theatre of the Absurd (for example Beckett’s and Ionesco’s) provides a literary reflection on the relationship between language and reality through meaningless phrases and actions, i.e., language that no longer serves a relationship with reality. Another example of the formal-structural breakdown of language that occurs in certain parts of the these plays is the vocalization of words that do not exist in language or just syllables or letters. Despite being an even more dramatic breakdown from the formal and semantic structure of language, and in contrast to some plays of the Theatre of the Absurd, glossolalia aims for a higher sense rather than absurdity. The aim of glossolalia is not destruction but rather the establishment of a relationship with God, a relationship that the actors in the Theatre of the Absurd have given up. Language in glossolalia is disintegrated, but not as a means of conveying absurdity but rather as a form of prayer. Considering that the same thing, the breakdown of conventional language, here takes us in different directions, what distinguishes these two phenomena—one religious, the other artistic? Is it possible to think of some Beckett’s or Ionesco’s plays as a linguistic step to which glossolalia could offer an appropriate extension or response? These plays do not have its logical extension; language experiences a breakdown here precisely because it is an instrument for expressing nonsense. Such an act has no potential for continuance; it is an end. Nevertheless, neither the Theatre of the Absurd seeks its continuation nor glossolalia its predecessor, and it is not plausible to see these two phenomena in some hypothetical order in which one comes before the other. They are separate phenomena; indeed, they are on opposite sides. If we deliberately ignore this moment and observe them only as phenomena that do something to language, we will see that both transcend the formal properties of language. The Beckett’s or Ionesco’s plays are not absurd on Camus’s lines, since in these plays there is no kind of Sisyphus “optimism” (Sisyphus is absurd but happy) (Camus 1998, p. 112).

Bennett notes that according to Esslin, these plays tend toward a radical devaluation of language, and although language still plays a significant but secondary role in this concept, what occurs on stage goes beyond and frequently contradicts the actors’ spoken statements. Esslin illustrates this idea with Ionesco’s The Chairs, arguing that the play’s poetics lies in the fact that the “banal words” are delivered to “an ever-growing number of empty chairs.” Therefore, Esslin contends that the absurd playwrights depict an absurd world. The plays’ philosophy and esthetics both express this absurd notion. Incongruity is a concept that establishes the convention of the Theatre of the Absurd by not aligning what is being said with what occurs on stage. (Bennett 2011, p. 6). The sentences quoted below demonstrates how the meaning of the sentence and the word are destroyed in addition to the incongruity:

“OLD WoMAN: . . . Rot together.

OLD MAN: A las! . . . alas! . . .

OLD WOMAN: Alas! . . . alas! . . . ”

(Ionesco 1958a, p. 158)

One more example:

“ANGELFOOD

then:

NNAA NNM NWNWNW V”

(Ionesco 1958a, p. 159)

The following quotation provides an illustration of how glossolalia destroys a sentence’s and word’s meaning.

a. la ri e be tre ke son dri e de ri er de re re

b. lo tra pa san dre ke šu di re lo ri a ba re de ke so han de re di di

c. lo ri a pa te re ke so han de re li di u bo lo ra ta ka ša tre ke son de re di

d. o hla di e be de re de ke sa tre kli ti an da re be tr ku šo res

e. san de re ki o ta ra an de re be li ri o ro ro

f. a ha še te e ke pi o to ko ra ta ka san de re li ri o lo res

g. a san de re ki a ta kra kan da ra ba te ki o ša ra na na na

h. se ri a te re lo ri a ba re re re re

i. e tra ka šin dra ke le tro pe si an da res

j. si a ha la te re te ka in der lo ri e

k. šan da re be te re ke so ho lo ri an da re be te ki o ro res

l. an dre ki a šan te le re di di o do res

(Filajdić 2019, p. 41)

In Sławomir Mrożek works, we get a slightly different example of destruction of meaning. Conrad Alexandrowicz asserts that in contrast to Beckett’s, Ionesco’s, and Camus’s more philosophically oriented work, a much of Mrożek’s work deals with metaphors that are distinctly political. (Alexandrowicz 2024, p. 355). Rather than experimenting with language, Mrożek’s work frequently hovers between the horrific and the laughable. He meticulously considers the mathematical development of an irrational set of circumstances when writing his stories, which are built with relentless logic (Alexandrowicz 2024, p. 356). Early plays, which were written between 1958 and 1963, might be categorized as part of the Theatre of the Absurd since they feature helpless characters who are stuck in grotesque situations where the tragic and comical are mixed (Alexandrowicz 2024, p. 360). The reader might be reminded of Beckett by The Party, published in 1962: Three farmers have been told that the village hall will host a party. In the hopes of experiencing the excitement of a significant celebration, they break in after discovering it locked and are angry to see it deserted. They debate whether a party will be held, if so, when and for whom, and if not, why not. The end of the play is structurally comparable to Waiting for Godot, with the frenzied discussion continuing in circles:

S. Where is it?

B. It’s not here.

S. Where is it, if it’s not here?

B. Somewhere else.

S. There isn’t anywhere else.

N. The party’s over there.

S. Who’s it for?

S. AND N (together). Where’s the party?

B. (in the middle of the stage, facing the audience, hands in the air). Ladies! Gentlemen! Where is the party?

(Alexandrowicz 2024, p. 360)

A comparable conversation from Waiting for Godot is shown in the following example:

ESTRAGON: What do we do now?

VLADIMIR: I don’t know.

ESTRAGON: Let’s go.

VLADIMIR: We can’t.

ESTRAGON: Why not?

VLADIMIR: We’re waiting for Godot.

(Beckett 1954, p. 31)

In the Waiting for Godot there is nothing but the despair of waiting, no possibility of self-deception on any level—intellectual, sensory, or emotional—no relief from the absurd. Waiting for Godot is hard, recurrent, and devoid of hope. At the end of the anti-play, Didi and Gogo say that if Godot does not show up tomorrow, they will hang themselves, but if he does, they will be saved (Beckett 1954, p. 60). Even so, how does glossolalia make sense given that there is a more extensive breakdown of language than in the Theatre of the Absurd? Let us try to imagine what might happen if Didi and Gogo were given the gift of speaking in tongues at the end of the play. They would be in a more serious semantic failure and a breakdown of the linguistic structure, but they would no longer be in existential despair. Consequently, two distinct approaches to destroying the linguistic structure result in quite different outcomes. The relationship that takes place in glossolalia is what creates this differentiation, and it is precisely this relationship that causes issues in the Theatre of the Absurd. It is a relationship toward God. The glossolalist creates new speech patterns as part of a relationship with God, whereas the characters in the Theatre of the Absurd only break existing ones. Both appear to be meaningless words and actions because of the lack of their logical or/and grammatical structure. The characters in the Theatre of the Absurd disintegrate existing meanings, while the glossolalist generates new ones, which is why an interpretation is important. Thus, glossolalia generates new values in this breakdown of language, whereas the Theatre of the Absurd aims to break down ossified and institutionalized relations and meanings that have lost significance. Nonetheless, the appearance of today’s glossolalia may also have been influenced by the overly formalized and ossified language practiced in prayer. One can imagine that many mechanical prayer utterances eventually become a collection of meaningless words. This can awaken the worshipper to move from the lukewarmness of spoken prayer, in the rhythm of meaningless words that he or she spontaneously abstracts in the process, to the utterance of words without conventional meaning that develop a new meaning. It is noteworthy and not to be overlooked that the 20th century brought the rise of the Theatre of the Absurd and modern glossolalia. Perhaps this is a result of the wildly disordered language. According to Esslin, language has simply gone wild in the era of mass communication and needs to be restored back to its proper proportions. Only through authentic speaking can it be used to convey authentic content rather than conceal it (Esslin 1961, p. 299).

Martin Heidegger discussed authentic speaking as the relationship between poetry and language (Heidegger 2007). According to him, it is important to find what is genuinely spoken, which he defined as poetry, because speaking does not cease with what is stated; rather, we frequently encounter what is spoken only as a residue of speaking that took place in the past (Heidegger 2007, p. 12). This shows that language speaks, and Heidegger seeks for it in the poetry (Heidegger 2007, p. 15). Naming calls into the word rather than giving titles, and the call brings what was not before called to come closer from the distances where the called resided as still absent (Heidegger 2007, pp. 16–17). Heidegger points out that even though we speak language, our relationship to it is indefinite, unclear, and almost mute, and the acquisition of experience about language is something different from the acquisition of knowledge about language (Heidegger 2007, p. 156). Language itself never comes to words; it does not bring itself to language but rather restrains itself (Heidegger 2007, p. 157). The poet’s situation is such that everything relies on whether language comes with the right term or not when something that has not been spoken yet needs to be brought to language. Thus, the poet must usually apply his newfound knowledge of language in a poetic form (Heidegger 2007, p. 158). According to Heidegger, speaking and saying are not the same thing since one can express a lot through silence and, on the other hand, speak without saying anything. Saying entails letting something appear, be heard, be seen, and such appearing is not based on any sign (Heidegger 2007, pp. 251–52). Since we have always listened to a language, he claims that speaking is listening—that is, we speak from language instead of using it. Language speaks by talking, that is, by showing, listening, and letting something be said to us, because it first and foremost submits to being told (Heidegger 2007, p. 253). Language is related to human speech in such a way that language needs human speech but is not its mere creation (Heidegger 2007, p. 254). What is peculiar to language is found in the way in which those who listen are allowed to reach language (Heidegger 2007, p. 255). Since there is nothing else to which such an occurrence may be reduced or explained, it is neither the result of a cause nor the effect of a reason (Heidegger 2007, p. 257). This is about breaking through the path that, through saying, leads language to speech (Heidegger 2007, p. 260).

May glossolalia be considered under this kind of path-breaking that leads language to speech? The Logos (the Son) is the Creator’s eternal Word. Bringing the belief that the Son is God’s Word to our own language radically changes the way we might think about language. Since God eternally begets the Son as his Word, human speech can likewise be an act of begetting by analogy. If humans are made in God’s image, then relationship to language is not something that comes from outside; rather, it is inherent to humankind and analogous to the relationship between the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. According to this analogy, one “gives birth” to language and has a significant freedom over its formation, its breaking through the path that, through saying, leads language to speech. Glossolalia is grounded on the belief that God and humans can communicate, but in such communication, we are dealing with two highly unequal interlocutors: God must descend to a level that is within human reach, and humans must rise above their inherent viewpoint. One of the ways that a person is so excitedly elevated above his or her usual language ability to speak with God involves shouting. The most significant example of shouting in the Bible appears in Mary’s hymn: “My soul glorifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God, my Savior” (Luke 1:47).

At the basis of modern glossolalia is the soul’s glorifying the Lord, which expresses delight and ineffability, and it brings something new to language. The Theatre of the Absurd, on the other hand, appears only as an act of liberation from the conventional language. Mateja Kurir-Borovčić claims that Beckett’s artworks reveal the abyss of Nothing; the protagonist, the conventional language, and the conventional structure are all lacking, leaving only the challenge of interpretation (Kurir-Borovčić 2004, p. 36). She relates Heidegger’s philosophy with Beckett’s art and discusses the connection between speech and poetry (Kurir-Borovčić 2004, p. 40). With Beckett as a theorist of nothing and Heidegger as a philosopher of being, Kurir-Borovčić asserts that poetry is a creation and foundation that establishes being through speech, engaging in a relationship with silence and creating a relationship between being and nothing (Kurir-Borovčić 2004, p. 42). Thus, silence is the foundation of speech, poetry is created within it, and silence connects Heidegger with Beckett. A poem’s speech can only be regarded as foundational when it genuinely relates to silence (Kurir-Borovčić 2004, p. 47). Borovčić-Kurir claims that from a philosophical standpoint, it makes no difference whether Godot represents God or just a rich landowner; what matters is that he is meant to be a rescuer who never appears on stage (Kurir-Borovčić 2004, p. 45). Yet, the question is precisely if Godot represents God, since God may be the only one who releases from this despair of waiting, and the absurdity arises from God(ot)’s non-arrival or non-existence (as Beckett’s anti-drama does not define whether it is one or the other).

The characters in the Beckett’s play are waiting for God(ot), and he does not come. The fact that he has not appeared is what crushes meaning, even while a possibility that he might appear at some point is left open. But the glossolalist believes that the God is already here, which is a matter of faith. The characters in the Beckett’s play are seeking a genuine face-to-face encounter rather than relying on faith and hope. They nevertheless continue to wait every day, and this kind of waiting that is devoid of religious faith and hope can only be described as absurd. The reason it is so absurd is that they wait without faith or hope, and waiting is an indication of faith or hope. In a comparable way, could the two millennia of waiting for the Second Coming of Christ, during which the vitality of spoken prayer seemed wasted, give rise to modern glossolalia? Does the modern glossolalia demonstrate a desperate scream from a waiting believer who raises their soul toward God? Perhaps glossolalia is the prayer of the first and last Christians, or Christians in times of crisis. It seems that it appears precisely at such moments: first after the death of God when He died on the cross, and then when He died or is dying in humans. Because knowledge and reason lack that power amid despair and resignation, Christians at these times—possibly more than others—need to feel the direct power of the Holy Spirit.

5. The Role of Deconstruction in Glossolalia and the Theatre of the Absurd

While the Theatre of the Absurd intentionally breaks down language structure, glossolalia does so as a consequence of prayer. There is a reasonable separation between speaking and language in certain research methodologies when the speaking subject considers language to be something that can be examined independently and distinctly from speaking. But in practical terms, speaking and language are inseparable. It might be said that language is a function of speaking in the same way that speaking is a function of relationships since it depends on relationship (including monologue as a relationship with oneself). Without the ability to speak, language would not exist. Therefore, this “hierarchy” occurs: relationship; speaking; language. Relationship in the context of glossolalia refers to a relationship with God; therefore, language (i.e., its conventionality or structure) is not a prerequisite for communication in this context. The glossolalist speaks from a relationship with God, and consequently, as this speech is communication between humans and God, it is a kind of language.

Language, therefore, emerged from speaking and in a relationship, but at the same time it produces a kind of by-product—meaning that eventually turns into structures (or form-codes). Heidegger characterizes what is truly and authentically spoken as poetry and song, and he refers to the importance of finding it. According to him, speaking does not end with what is spoken, but rather that we encounter what is spoken as a remnant of speaking that occurred in the past (Heidegger 2007, p. 12). This remnant of speaking may become a kind of form-codes. The form-codes can be used in different situations and can be both vital and inert instances in relationships and communication. But what if language stops being a creation (begetting) and instead turns into a repository of accumulated meanings and wasted form-codes? Then it could adhere to its concepts and turn into a sort of “law.” Language becomes an independent entity and withdraws into its own structure when an aspect of creativity or begetting decreases. Transformation of the by-products of meaning into structures, forms, and codes takes away from language what is closest to it: speaking and relationships. Its meanings become ossified, and it remains uniform in its law, eidos, and logos. Derrida takes a deconstructive stance toward this language use. He asserts that as memory functions as repetition, truth is what is displayed, repeated, and present in representation. The identity of meaning is made by repetition of the presence of eidos, the figure of intelligible visibility, which is simultaneously present in both reality and linguistic representation (Sorić 2011, p. 291). Opposite to logocentristic perspectives, he holds that the voice of language is always the voice of the last man and that it has an apocalyptic significance (Derrida 2009, p. 41). The apocalyptic is the transcendental condition of every discourse, experience, sign, or trace, and if the apocalypse reveals, it is the self-presentation of the apocalyptic structure of language, writing, the experience of presence, or mission for which there is no self-presentation or guaranteed destination (Derrida 2009, pp. 51–52). For Derrida, the structure of language is apocalyptic, i.e., the very writing and leaving a trace is already an apocalyptic voice—without a source in the logos, without redemption in the Logos. Given the apocalyptic as the transcendental condition of every discourse, experience, sign, or trace, the voice of language is always the voice of the last man. In this context, the apocalyptic is understood to be both the beginning and the end of meaning in language; that is, meaning in language has neither an antecedent nor a telos. Derrida’s criticism of logocentrism, in which he emphasizes phone above logos, provides the similarities between deconstruction, the Theatre of the Absurd, and glossolalia. The Theatre of the Absurd deconstructs meaning, logos, and language in a way that prioritizes gesture and the on-stage performance over the meaning of the text. Glossolalia has this effect in prayer by giving meaningless words precedence over meaningful words, even if it makes no attempt to deconstruct. One aspect of Derrida’s perspective on language is the assumption that it is not referential, and it is neither an instrument of the eidos nor the Logos. Although he does not deny the objective existence of the referent, he abandons referentialism; the referent is removed, and what remains is the reference, or the writing of dreams without truth or falsehood (Sorić 2011, p. 292). What similarities exist between this and glossolalia’s actions, given that what is true in glossolalia is regarded as what is related to God? Glossolalia is mainly focused on a relationship with God rather than against anything, and it is only incidentally directed “against” the conventional language. It can be said that glossolalia is both destructive (it destroys the structure of language) and creative (it builds new relations in language).

In Derrida’s viewpoint, the “term” is the most basic element of language that grows by division, addition, and multiplication as a seed rather than as an absolute concept; the meaning of a “term” emerges through repetition that always takes place in a different context and transforms the meaning (Sorić 2011, p. 294). Because the meaning of an individual term is always changing through use, Derrida challenges Saussure’s model of a sign made up of a signifier and the signified, as well as the idea that it is possible to strictly distinguish between the structure of language (langue) and the individual act of using language (parole) (Sorić 2011, p. 295). It might be indicated that the Godot figure is an example of a separating signifier and signified; the signified is absent and does not appear while the signifier (the name “Godot”) is present. The tension that no signified “comes” to the signifier lies at the heart of this anti-play. It is possible to take this observation more broadly: due to the signified’s complexity, variety, and elusiveness, no signifier can entirely represent it. Matko Sorić highlights that Derrida’s criticism of referentialism is not necessarily related to the negation of a world independent of the mind, but rather about the fact that most language makes reference to statements that are meaningful and affect the speaker’s perception of the world even though they do not serve a referential purpose. This opens the subject of anti-realism and quests of how language contributes to the linguistic turn’s philosophies’ substitution of anti-realism and constructivism for epistemological realism (Sorić stresses that one should avoid the understanding according to which constructivism is literally “the creation of the world”) (Sorić 2011, p. 296). Postmodern anti-realism, which is predicated on Derrida’s problematization of Plato’s relationship to mimesis as that which replicates logos, so enabling truth, rejects the possibility of total knowledge of reality by rejecting the concept of logos. The concept of anti-realism, however, refers to the limitation and conditionality of knowledge rather than its absolute impossibility (Sorić 2011, p. 297). Language is one of the factors that can condition knowledge, as it is subject to change and may contain multiple descriptions of the same phenomenon (Sorić 2011, p. 298). The linguistic turn leads to anti-realism, or the linguistic conditioning of our perception of reality. The postmodernist model of language holds that a shift in language can result in new knowledge (Sorić 2011, p. 301). In these understandings of the interaction between language and reality, Derrida offers a productivism definition of metaphor rather than characterizing it as an “effect of mimesis.” Sorić writes:

“In the spirit of Nietzsche’s definition of truth as an “army of metaphors, metonymies, and anthropomorphisms”, metaphor becomes a principle of continuous reorganization of personal idiolect (différance), and conditions our perception, cognition, communication, and interaction with others. Lakoff and Johnsen give equal importance to metaphor: “...metaphor dominates in everyday life, not only in language, but also in thought and behavior. Our usual conceptual system, through which we think and act, is fundamentally metaphorical.””

(Sorić 2011, p. 302)

In the Theatre of the Absurd, the signifier waits for its signified; whether it is a signifier or a metaphor, this waiting does not end. Nonetheless, the distinction between a signifier and a metaphor matters in glossolalia. More dramatically than in the Theatre of the Absurd, the signifier and signified remain apart in glossolalia; despite being a signifier, the word or syllable does not refer to anything that we have knowledge of. While there is a signifier (or metaphor) in the Theatre of the Absurd in the concept of Godot, the signified is continuously anticipated even if it has not (yet) arrived. On the other hand, we do not even know what the signifier in glossolalia refers to. Whether the signified is here, whether we are anticipating it, or whether it truly exists, we do not know. What is indicated, whether it is signified, whether it exists at all, whether it is a construction, and whether it is present or absent are all unknown to us. In the mystery of faith, the glossolalist deliberately stays clear of any established relationship between the signifier and the signified. No signifier can adequately convey what is happening, and there is no method to get confirmation or guarantee of the presence with which a glossolalist enters an encounter. Metaphor comes from the Greek words meta (“over”) and pherein (“to carry”). Thus, if we consider a metaphor as one that conveys “over,” then one of the ways that metaphors contribute to glossolalia is by using words or syllables to transfer, bridge, or transition from what is understood by reason to what is comprehended by spirit.

6. Form and Content

The Theatre of the Absurd brings a new dimension to the stage by devaluing language, turning it into meaningless babble, or shifting from discursive logic to poetic logic (Esslin 1961, p. 297). In this article, the glossolalia and the Theatre of the Absurd are placed in the context of a critique of logocentrism to show that speaking is not merely a secondary function of meaning. As much as art requires critics, theorists, philosophers and hermeneuticians, glossolalia also requires interpreters. The semantics of words do not establish meanings in glossolalia; rather, the traits of speaking partially do. Here, sense and form—the way something is expressed—are closely intertwined, as well as in the Theatre of the Absurd.

According to Esslin, Ionesco faced charges of formalism because he became so involved by the problem of the relation between form and content. Ionesco considered that the artwork’s form and structure, which must adhere to their own internal rules of coherence and consistency, are just as significant as their conceptual content (Esslin 1961, p. 82). According to him, the paradox and truth of art is that a piece of art is the manifestation of an incommunicable reality that one attempts to convey and that occasionally succeeds in doing so (Esslin 1961, p. 81). Since he held that theatre is always much more than language, the element of pure abstract theatre in the Theatre of the Absurd is an aspect of his anti-literary approach and his turning away from language as an instrument for expressing the deepest levels of meaning (Esslin 1961, p. 230). There is a connection between the pioneers of sculpture and painting and avant-garde poetry and drama (Esslin 1961, p. 285), and Esslin relates Dadaism and the Theatre of the Absurd because the goal of Dadaism was the destruction of the conventional art (Esslin 1961, p. 262). The rejection of discursive and narrative aspects and the emphasis on poetic imagery as the expression of the inner truth of the conscious, subconscious, and archetypal are commonly held by modern movements in painting and the Theatre of the Absurd (Esslin 1961, p. 286).

A work of art only has meaning as a whole in Beckett’s opinion, as Esslin notes:

“For, as Beckett himself has pointed out in his essay on Joyce’s Work in Progress, the form, structure, and mood of an artistic statement cannot be separated from its meaning, its conceptual content; simply because the work of art as a whole is its meaning, what is said in it is indissolubly linked with the manner in which it is said, and cannot be said in any other way.”

(Esslin 1961, p. 12)

The Theatre of the Absurd emphasizes the futility of employing wasted or mechanical language and criticizes linguistic simulation, or lifeless conversations. According to Esslin, Beckett’s works probe the limitations of language, both in terms of communication and in terms of expression. He tried to find expressive meanings beyond language and to reduce the gap between linguistic limitations and intuition, although he was aware that human words were inadequate for this. Language in Beckett’s works serves to express its breakdown and disintegration (Esslin 1961, p. 44). Also, dialogue frequently breaks down due to a lack of opinion sharing, either because characters are unable to recall what has already been said or because the meaning of words ceases to exist (Esslin 1961, p. 45). In his quest to convey ultimate truths, his work might be interpreted as a search for a reality beyond the plausibility of conceptual terms (Esslin 1961, p. 46). Ionesco, on the other hand, believed no political system or society could ever completely wipe away human suffering, fear of dying, or longing for the absolute. For this reason, he breaks the social language in his works, which he claims is merely a cliché (Ionesco 1958b; Esslin 1961, p. 80). Esslin argues that the Theatre of the Absurd does not represent a return to dark irrational forces but rather paves the path for a reasonable approach, as the expression of thought in poetic imagery has the same worth as conceptual thought (Esslin 1961, p. 316).

It is also possible that a mechanical attitude toward prayer gave rise to modern glossolalia. A certain amount of liberation as well as the ability to express things that are inexpressible would be lost if glossolalia were burdened with semantics. Comparable to glossolalia, interpretation in art always lags innovation, which is why it requires an interpreter. In glossolalia everything can be interpreted, including the word itself, the way it is spoken, and the way vowels are grouped. Why are forms without semantics problematic in verbal articulation when they can be used as a way of expression in visual art, music, experimental film, etc.? Although language facilitates communication, is this justification enough to deny verbal expression its legitimacy for an abstraction? Does verbal expression have the liberty to use formal qualities (gloss, intonation, rhythm, tonality, etc.) to convey speaking without simultaneously having to convey some (conventional) semantics? And may this type of expression lead to the emergence of new speaking that is exclusive to the relation of inseparability of form and sense, like in the case of abstraction in art? By comparison, if poetry opens speech instead of the other way around, we can interpret the shouting in glossolalia as some sort of opening. Heidegger considers that the poet must offer something to language that has not been said yet and that this depends on whether language provides or does not provide a suitable term (Heidegger 2007, p. 158). On the other hand, in glossolalia’s shouting, there is not a suitable word. In that sense, glossolalia, and poetry (or art) are different. In poetry, the poet is the author, but in glossolalia, the glossolalist is not. Glossolalia remains more within the framework of “saying” if saying is understood as allowing something to appear. Glossolalia is analogous to what Heidegger says about poetry in that it clears the path for language to become speech through saying (Heidegger 2007, p. 260). Still, can this kind of clearing of the path be “applied” to glossolalia, given that it is not a path by which language is reached but an attempt to “reach” the Creator? In this question, it becomes understandable how the glossolalia of early Christianity differs from that of today: in early Christianity it is a gift given for the spread of the good news, Evangelion, that is, from God to humanity, and in today’s times the initiative direction of glossolalia is from humanity to God. In early Christianity, it was a power of the Spirit that enabled the community to grow; now, it is an invocation of the Spirit’s descent to preserve faith; in early Christianity, it was a result of awe; today, it is a result of waiting for God(ot). While the Creator “reaches” humanity in early Christianity, the humanity now attempts to communicate with the Creator through glossolalia. Whether they are glossolalists or actors in the Theatre of the Absurd, modern humanity shares enduring waiting. Believers may be discouraged and losing hope during this time, while the actors in the Theatre of the Absurd become absorbed by absurdity and non-sense. Thus, today’s glossolalia is a means of trying to make the path—language—of communication with the God. As it is discussed in the first part of this article, Waiting for Godot contains numerous references that suggest Godot is, in fact, God. That is one interpretation—of course, there are others—but multiple references strongly suggest that Godot is God. Zhang’s interpretation is highlighted as an example.

“In Act One of Waiting for Godot, two tramps, Vladimir and Estragon, wait for Godot while standing by the roadside near a fallen tree. They are uncertain as to whether they have arrived at the correct location, whether today is the right time, whether Godot will appear, whether they have correctly identified him, or what they have requested of him. However, they wait. What are they waiting for? They’re waiting for Godot. They’re waiting for God.”

(Zhang 2024)

Didi and Gogo do not actually meet Godot, even though an encounter is promised. From a religious perspective, one could say that it is about their inability to pave the way, or rather the language that would bring God(ot), and that is what the glossolalist is trying to do. If we assume that Godot is God, and since Gogo and Didi want Godot to appear the way a person appears, Godot’s arrival is delayed because God does not appear in such a way. They therefore must step out of language, which they do. Precisely at this point the play becomes art. We cannot tell if Godot will ever come up, but what gives artistic merit is this moment that transcends language. The play expressed and demonstrated what is artistic in language; it cleared the path for language to become speech through saying. And it is the most absurd fact about the Waiting the Godot; although waiting for Godot is absurd, although he does not come, the play becomes art.

In the examples given in this text, we can see how the destruction and transcendence of language leads to the artistic merit in the Theatre of the Absurd and the creative moment of prayer in glossolalia.

7. Conclusions

This paper examined the similarities and differences between the deconstruction of language in the Theatre of the Absurd and glossolalia. An attempt is made to explain why the two occurrences of language breakdown result in distinct outcomes: non-sense for one and sense for the other. The Theatre of the Absurd and glossolalia are examined through Derrida’s deconstruction of language, thereby placing them in a broader philosophical framework. Both glossolalia and the Theatre of the Absurd were found to prioritize sense above reference, and they both aim for linguistic immediacy. It has also emerged that the goal of glossolalia nowadays is to create a language of communication with God, which is how one tries to “reach” the Creator. Regarding Theatre of the Absurd, the God(ot) is encountered in artistic merit in the process of creating a piece of art.