Krapp's tape recording process works like memory, recording, replaying, and recording again. And while the tape recorder records with machinelike perfection, its operator can choose what to listen to and what to fast forward.
Krapp listens selectively. Some sections of the recordings Krapp rewinds and listens to repeatedly. In one such section, the younger Krapp describes having lain with a woman in a boat in the sun while under them "all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side" (223). Here, the younger Krapp's words, which evoke many senses, deal only with experience. No commentary is given.But when commentary is given, Krapp quickly skips the tape ahead. In one section of the recording, the younger Krapp seems to approach a significant epiphany: "What I suddenly saw then was this, that the belief I had been going on all my life, namely—," but the older Krapp winds the tape forward (222). When the tape plays again, the younger Krapp says that things are "clear to me at last that the dark I have always struggled to keep under is in reality my most—." This time, Krapp curses, and then winds the tape forward again. In each instance, the younger Krapp seems to have reached some kind of conclusion or found some kind of meaning. Yet the older Krapp doesn't listen. If he did, the dialogue would end.
People speek because they want to find meaning; as long as meaning is illusory, speech will be made. As long as speech is made, the dialogue continues, because the dialogue is speech responding to speech. So when the younger Krapp threatens Krapp with meaning, Krapp can't listen. If he did, he would find an end to the conversation; the dialogue would cease. And Krapp needs the dialogue. All that's left without it is bananas and vacuous staring.
