Rough for Theatre I (Fragment de théâtre I, written c. late 1950s, published 1979) by Samuel Beckett (Summary)

 

Rough for Theatre I (Fragment de théâtre I, written c. late 1950s, published 1979)

by Samuel Beckett

(Summary) 

Rough for Theatre I — Summary

A desolate space. No clear setting, no nameable place—only emptiness. Two men occupy this bare world, reduced almost to their functions. One stands upright but crippled, leaning heavily on a stick. He is A, though the name barely matters. The other, B, sits in a wheelchair, his legs useless, his presence confined to motionlessness and waiting.

They are not friends in any human sense. They are bound together by necessity, habit, or perhaps fate—two broken halves trapped in the same void.

A speaks first, with impatience. He wants to move. He wants action. He wants something to happen. But movement requires B, because B controls the wheelchair, the only means by which A might be carried. B, however, is in no hurry. He resists with silence, with hesitation, with passive refusal. He is comfortable in immobility, or at least resigned to it.

Their dialogue begins to circle itself.

A pleads, commands, insults.

B delays, questions, withholds.

Neither can act alone.

A cannot walk without pain or collapse.

B cannot move at all without assistance.

They are trapped not only in the space but in each other.

Eventually, after much verbal sparring, B agrees—reluctantly—to help. But even this help is imperfect, incomplete. When the wheelchair begins to move, it does so awkwardly, scraping against the unseen limits of the stage. Progress is slow, uncertain, almost absurd. Every attempt at motion reveals another obstacle, another reason to stop.

As they move—or attempt to—A grows more agitated. He speaks of the need to go on, to escape, to reach somewhere else. But there is no “elsewhere.” The space offers no landmarks, no destination. Motion itself becomes meaningless, a gesture without purpose.

B, meanwhile, begins to assert himself in subtler ways. Though physically helpless, he controls the situation through delay and resistance. He questions A’s urgency. He challenges the idea that movement is necessary at all. His passivity becomes a form of power.

Their conversation grows more fragmented. Words repeat. Commands lose force. Meaning thins out. The dialogue becomes less about reaching a goal and more about enduring the exchange itself.

At one point, A threatens to abandon B. But the threat collapses immediately—A cannot survive alone any more than B can. The idea of separation reveals itself as impossible. They are condemned to remain together, whether they want to or not.

Fatigue sets in. The effort of movement proves too great. They stop.

Silence intrudes, heavy and final.

In the end, nothing has changed. They have not escaped. They have not arrived. The space remains empty, the future unresolved. A still leans on his stick; B still sits in his chair. Their bodies remain broken, their dependence intact.

The play does not resolve their conflict. It simply halts—mid-gesture, mid-struggle—leaving the two figures locked in mutual need and mutual frustration.

The fragment ends where it began: with two damaged beings, immobilized not only by their bodies but by the impossibility of meaningful action.

 

Closing Note on the Play’s Nature

Rough for Theatre I is not a traditional narrative but a dramatic sketch of human dependence—a stripped-down vision of Beckett’s recurring themes:

paralysis versus movement

power versus helplessness

the illusion of progress

existence as endurance rather than achievement

Nothing happens—yet everything essential is exposed.