47
Lynn Brunet |Ripping back the veil on Masonic abuse
calls out ‘Moses! Moses!’ from behind the burning bush
at the same time as the candidate’s blindfold is removed
(Duncan, 1866). It is not difficult to see why this ritual
was easy to parody clearly, nothing like a state of
mystical enlightenment is going to be found here. At the
very end of the play, Estragon tries to commit suicide
by hanging from the tree, but he uses the cord from
his trousers, so that his trousers fall down. In Royal
Arch rites, a piece of rope is present on the floor of the
Chapter room to signify the rope that was tied around
the priest’s waist, which was used to pull him out of
the Holy of Holies should he collapse inside the inner
sanctum (Cryer, 2002 Caba, 2023).3
1
An odd sequence
where the characters throw chairs to each other may be
linked to a practice known as Passing the Chair in the
Royal Arch rite, where the three Principals would share
and swap their roles in order to pass many members
through the Degree (Wells, 1984).
The theme of memory loss permeates Waiting for
Godot, attesting to Beckett’s interest in the effects of
trauma. Throughout the play, we see the same events
continually being revisited, alluding to the repetition
compulsion experienced by some trauma survivors,
and the characters forget what has happened to them
the previous day. Towards the end of Act I, a timid boy
enters the plot he says he is afraid of the men and the
whip. He brings a message from Mr Godot, saying ‘[H]e
won’t come this evening but surely tomorrow’ (Beckett,
1990, p. 49). When the boy reappears in Act Two, he
seems to have forgotten the events of the previous day.
We are not told the age of the boy, but earlier in Act I,
Pozzo asks Estragon what age he thinks Lucky would
be and Estragon answers ‘Eleven’. Here we are being
reminded that the slave-like initiate, Lucky, may be a
boy of eleven. One of the outcomes of ritual abuse can
be the creation of alter personalities that carry different
elements of the ordeals. One of these dissociated
identities, created during traumatising rituals in
childhood, can be that of the ‘spirit slave’, which will do
anything that the abuser commands, including suicide
(Noblitt &Perskin-Noblitt, 2014, p. 116). Lucky has
been reduced to a slave state by the tyrannical Pozzo,
and Estragon’s attempt at hanging himself emphasises
the suicidal ideation that can be one of the effects of
ritual abuse (Rutz et al, 2008).
3 This practice is not factual but is a myth, nor is it found in the Old
Testament. It is described in a 13th century Cabbalist text, the Zohar, Ch. 2,
v. 198. (Caba, 2023).
This author’s fuller examination of Waiting for Godot
demonstrates that many of the elements that contribute
to this intuitive, free-flowing creation appear to
correlate with those found in the Royal Arch Degree
(Brunet, 2009). This suggests the possibility that
Beckett could have been exposed at some point to a
spurious version of this degree and either witnessed
or even experienced abusive treatment. While Waiting
for Godot might present the clearest link to an abusive
version of the Royal Arch rite, many of Beckett’s
plays refer to Masonic elements coupled with intense
emotional states and themes of torture (Brunet, 2006,
2009a). One of his novels, The Unnamable, is an
autobiographical stream-of-consciousness monologue
that reveals more excruciating details of abusive
practices. It includes him being surrounded in a dark
space by a group of men he calls ‘the lords of creation’
who are imparting special knowledge to him: ‘Low
types they must have been, their pockets full of poison
and antidote’ he says (Beckett, 1983, p. 272). They
convey a similar atmosphere to the deviant Freemasons
depicted in Matthew Barney’s work.
C. G. Jung (1875– 1961)
During his mid-life period, and after his split with
Freud, the Swiss psychiatrist C. G. Jung (2009) began
to experience a strange series of disturbing fantasies
and dreams which, at times, made him feel that he
was going mad he called it ‘doing a schizophrenia’,
likening himself to some of his patients (p. 28). To
understand these fantasies, he recorded them in seven
journals from 1913 to 1932, calling the process ‘active
imagination’ (Jung, 2009, p. xi). Transferring some of
this material into a blank leather-bound volume and
incorporating his own handwriting, paintings and
calligraphy, he created a stunning medieval-style text,
named The Red Book. It was originally intended for an
audience, but he decided not to publish it. ‘And who
would understand it?’ he says (Jung, 2020, vol. 7, p.
210). These private works were kept safely in a vault
until a Jungian scholar, Sonu Shamdasani, persuaded
the family to release them. An English version of The
Red Book was published in 2009, and the journals, or
Black Books, in 2020.
In his memoir, Jung mentions that his paternal
grandfather and namesake, C. G. Jung (1794–1864),
was a Grand Master of the Swiss Grand Lodge Alpina
Lynn Brunet |Ripping back the veil on Masonic abuse
calls out ‘Moses! Moses!’ from behind the burning bush
at the same time as the candidate’s blindfold is removed
(Duncan, 1866). It is not difficult to see why this ritual
was easy to parody clearly, nothing like a state of
mystical enlightenment is going to be found here. At the
very end of the play, Estragon tries to commit suicide
by hanging from the tree, but he uses the cord from
his trousers, so that his trousers fall down. In Royal
Arch rites, a piece of rope is present on the floor of the
Chapter room to signify the rope that was tied around
the priest’s waist, which was used to pull him out of
the Holy of Holies should he collapse inside the inner
sanctum (Cryer, 2002 Caba, 2023).3
1
An odd sequence
where the characters throw chairs to each other may be
linked to a practice known as Passing the Chair in the
Royal Arch rite, where the three Principals would share
and swap their roles in order to pass many members
through the Degree (Wells, 1984).
The theme of memory loss permeates Waiting for
Godot, attesting to Beckett’s interest in the effects of
trauma. Throughout the play, we see the same events
continually being revisited, alluding to the repetition
compulsion experienced by some trauma survivors,
and the characters forget what has happened to them
the previous day. Towards the end of Act I, a timid boy
enters the plot he says he is afraid of the men and the
whip. He brings a message from Mr Godot, saying ‘[H]e
won’t come this evening but surely tomorrow’ (Beckett,
1990, p. 49). When the boy reappears in Act Two, he
seems to have forgotten the events of the previous day.
We are not told the age of the boy, but earlier in Act I,
Pozzo asks Estragon what age he thinks Lucky would
be and Estragon answers ‘Eleven’. Here we are being
reminded that the slave-like initiate, Lucky, may be a
boy of eleven. One of the outcomes of ritual abuse can
be the creation of alter personalities that carry different
elements of the ordeals. One of these dissociated
identities, created during traumatising rituals in
childhood, can be that of the ‘spirit slave’, which will do
anything that the abuser commands, including suicide
(Noblitt &Perskin-Noblitt, 2014, p. 116). Lucky has
been reduced to a slave state by the tyrannical Pozzo,
and Estragon’s attempt at hanging himself emphasises
the suicidal ideation that can be one of the effects of
ritual abuse (Rutz et al, 2008).
3 This practice is not factual but is a myth, nor is it found in the Old
Testament. It is described in a 13th century Cabbalist text, the Zohar, Ch. 2,
v. 198. (Caba, 2023).
This author’s fuller examination of Waiting for Godot
demonstrates that many of the elements that contribute
to this intuitive, free-flowing creation appear to
correlate with those found in the Royal Arch Degree
(Brunet, 2009). This suggests the possibility that
Beckett could have been exposed at some point to a
spurious version of this degree and either witnessed
or even experienced abusive treatment. While Waiting
for Godot might present the clearest link to an abusive
version of the Royal Arch rite, many of Beckett’s
plays refer to Masonic elements coupled with intense
emotional states and themes of torture (Brunet, 2006,
2009a). One of his novels, The Unnamable, is an
autobiographical stream-of-consciousness monologue
that reveals more excruciating details of abusive
practices. It includes him being surrounded in a dark
space by a group of men he calls ‘the lords of creation’
who are imparting special knowledge to him: ‘Low
types they must have been, their pockets full of poison
and antidote’ he says (Beckett, 1983, p. 272). They
convey a similar atmosphere to the deviant Freemasons
depicted in Matthew Barney’s work.
C. G. Jung (1875– 1961)
During his mid-life period, and after his split with
Freud, the Swiss psychiatrist C. G. Jung (2009) began
to experience a strange series of disturbing fantasies
and dreams which, at times, made him feel that he
was going mad he called it ‘doing a schizophrenia’,
likening himself to some of his patients (p. 28). To
understand these fantasies, he recorded them in seven
journals from 1913 to 1932, calling the process ‘active
imagination’ (Jung, 2009, p. xi). Transferring some of
this material into a blank leather-bound volume and
incorporating his own handwriting, paintings and
calligraphy, he created a stunning medieval-style text,
named The Red Book. It was originally intended for an
audience, but he decided not to publish it. ‘And who
would understand it?’ he says (Jung, 2020, vol. 7, p.
210). These private works were kept safely in a vault
until a Jungian scholar, Sonu Shamdasani, persuaded
the family to release them. An English version of The
Red Book was published in 2009, and the journals, or
Black Books, in 2020.
In his memoir, Jung mentions that his paternal
grandfather and namesake, C. G. Jung (1794–1864),
was a Grand Master of the Swiss Grand Lodge Alpina









































































































