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

 

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

by Samuel Beckett

(Characters Analysis) 

Character Analysis of A — Rough for Theatre I by Samuel Beckett

In Rough for Theatre I, the character identified as A embodies the paradox of agency within extreme limitation. Though he appears at first to be the more active and dominant of the two figures, Beckett constructs A as a study in frustrated will—a character whose desire for movement, progress, and control is continually undermined by his physical impairment and existential dependence on another.

Physically, A occupies an unstable position between mobility and paralysis. He can stand, but only with the aid of a stick, and his capacity for movement is painful, precarious, and insufficient. This partial mobility symbolizes a condition central to Beckett’s dramatic vision: the ability to act without the power to complete action. A is not fully immobilized, yet his mobility is so compromised that it becomes a source of suffering rather than freedom. His body thus enacts a tragic irony—he can almost move, almost act, almost escape, but never enough to make movement meaningful.

Psychologically, A is driven by urgency. He wants something to happen. He expresses impatience with delay and shows irritation at B’s reluctance to cooperate. His speech is filled with commands, complaints, and appeals, revealing a restless consciousness that cannot tolerate stasis. Yet this urgency does not translate into effectiveness. Instead, it exposes A’s vulnerability. The more insistently he demands movement, the more clearly his dependence on B is revealed. Beckett uses this tension to dismantle the traditional association between desire and agency.

A’s apparent authority is further undermined by the structure of power within the play. While A speaks more forcefully and initiates action, he lacks control over the means by which action occurs. Movement depends entirely on B’s willingness to assist. This inversion transforms A’s assertiveness into a form of impotence. His commands become performative rather than operative—spoken gestures that fail to alter reality. Beckett thus presents A as a figure of illusory dominance, one whose sense of control exists only at the level of language.

Language itself becomes a site of struggle for A. His speech attempts to compensate for physical incapacity, functioning as a substitute for action. However, Beckett ensures that language fails him just as thoroughly as his body does. Repetition drains his words of force, and the absence of response or compliance renders them hollow. A’s increasing frustration reflects Beckett’s skepticism toward language as a means of mastery. Speech does not grant A power; it merely exposes the gap between intention and outcome.

Existentially, A represents the human impulse toward continuation and escape. He is the character most visibly aligned with the desire to “go on,” even when the possibility of progress is illusory. This makes A both tragic and emblematic. His suffering arises not only from physical pain but from the consciousness of futility. He recognizes, at least implicitly, that movement will not lead anywhere meaningful, yet he cannot relinquish the urge to attempt it. Beckett presents this compulsion as fundamental to human existence: the need to act persists even when action is stripped of purpose.

A’s relationship with B further clarifies his condition. Though he threatens abandonment or expresses contempt, such gestures collapse immediately under scrutiny. Separation would mean annihilation. A’s identity is thus relational rather than autonomous; he exists only within the system of mutual dependence that the play constructs. This dependency erodes any notion of heroic individuality, reducing A to a figure caught in an endless negotiation between desire and impossibility.

In sum, A is not a character in the traditional sense but a dramatic embodiment of frustrated agency. Through him, Beckett explores the pain of partial capability, the emptiness of command without power, and the persistence of desire in a world that offers no fulfillment. A stands, leans, and speaks—but never arrives. His existence is defined not by what he achieves, but by his continual confrontation with the limits of action itself.

 

Character Analysis of B — Rough for Theatre I by Samuel Beckett

In Rough for Theatre I, the character designated as B appears at first glance to be the weaker and more passive of the two figures. Confined to a wheelchair and unable to stand or walk, B seems defined by immobility and dependence. Yet Beckett gradually reveals B as a figure of subtle authority, embodying a form of power rooted not in action but in resistance, delay, and refusal. Through B, the play interrogates conventional assumptions about strength, agency, and dominance.

Physically, B represents absolute immobility. Unlike A, who can stand and gesture toward movement, B is entirely fixed in place unless assisted. This extreme limitation, however, grants B a paradoxical advantage. Because movement depends upon his cooperation, B becomes the gatekeeper of action. His body, though inert, controls the rhythm of the play. Beckett transforms physical helplessness into structural centrality, making B indispensable to any change within the dramatic situation.

Psychologically, B is characterized by restraint. He speaks less than A, and when he does speak, his responses are measured, often delayed. This economy of language contrasts sharply with A’s urgency and verbal aggression. B’s silence and hesitation function as strategic pauses, moments in which he asserts control by doing nothing. Beckett thus portrays passivity not as absence of will, but as a deliberate mode of engagement with the world—a refusal to participate fully in futile action.

B’s relationship to power is fundamentally negative rather than positive. He does not initiate movement; he obstructs it. His authority lies in his capacity to withhold rather than command. This inversion reflects one of Beckett’s central insights: in a world where action leads nowhere, resistance becomes the only effective form of agency. By delaying cooperation, B exposes the emptiness of A’s demands and the fragility of any hierarchy based on speech or intention.

Language, for B, is secondary to silence. Where A attempts to dominate through speech, B undermines speech by refusing to respond promptly or decisively. His minimal verbal participation strips dialogue of momentum, turning conversation into stagnation. In this way, B embodies Beckett’s skepticism toward language as a tool of control or meaning-making. Silence, rather than speech, becomes B’s primary instrument.

Existentially, B aligns with acceptance rather than striving. He does not share A’s visible urgency to move or escape. Whether this reflects resignation, wisdom, or mere exhaustion is deliberately left unresolved. Beckett resists attributing psychological motivation to B, presenting him instead as a position within a relational system. B represents the recognition—implicit and unspoken—that progress is illusory and that endurance may be preferable to futile effort.

B’s dependency on A mirrors A’s dependency on him, but with a crucial difference. While A experiences dependence as humiliation and frustration, B appears more at ease within it. This asymmetry suggests that suffering in Beckett’s world arises less from limitation itself than from resistance to limitation. B survives by adapting to stasis, whereas A suffers by rebelling against it.

Ultimately, B is not merely the passive counterpart to A’s agitation. He is the play’s quiet center of gravity—a figure through whom Beckett dramatizes the power of immobility, the authority of refusal, and the possibility of endurance without illusion. B does not move, command, or aspire; he waits, delays, and remains. In doing so, he reveals that in a world stripped of purpose, the most potent action may be the decision not to act at all.