Rough for Theatre II (Fragment de théâtre II, written c. late 1950s, published 1976) by Samuel Beckett (Characters analysis)

 

Rough for Theatre II (Fragment de théâtre II, written c. late 1950s, published 1976)

by Samuel Beckett

(Characters analysis) 

Character Analysis of A in Rough for Theatre II

In Rough for Theatre II, the character known as A embodies the impersonal authority that governs Beckett’s bleak theatrical universe. Although A appears calm, rational, and methodical, his true function is not to understand the human being under examination but to ensure that judgment proceeds efficiently. A is less an individual character than a personification of procedural power, representing systems that decide the value of human life without emotional or ethical engagement.

A’s defining trait is his unwavering commitment to process. He reads from the files with precision, organizes the evidence, and keeps the examination moving forward. His language is functional rather than expressive, marked by a tone of administrative certainty. In this sense, A does not speak about C so much as he speaks over him. The act of reading replaces dialogue, reinforcing A’s dominance and C’s voicelessness. Beckett presents A’s speech as a tool of control, not communication.

Unlike B, who occasionally hesitates or speculates, A rarely entertains doubt. When contradictions emerge in the documentation, A does not treat them as signs of complexity or injustice. Instead, he absorbs them into the process, allowing ambiguity to coexist with final judgment. This reveals a crucial aspect of A’s character: certainty is not required for condemnation. A’s authority does not depend on truth, only on completion. His confidence stems from the belief that the procedure itself legitimizes the outcome.

A’s emotional neutrality is one of his most disturbing qualities. He neither expresses cruelty nor compassion; both would imply moral engagement. By remaining affectively flat, A demonstrates how indifference can be more destructive than malice. Beckett suggests that modern systems of power do not need villains—they function through individuals like A, who perform their roles efficiently without questioning the ethical implications. A’s calm demeanor masks the violence of his decision-making.

Symbolically, A can be read as a representative of multiple forms of authority: legal, bureaucratic, medical, and even literary. He resembles a judge, a caseworker, a clinician, or an editor assessing a manuscript. In this sense, A’s character extends beyond the stage, implicating institutions that classify, evaluate, and discard lives deemed unproductive or incoherent. Beckett’s choice to name him with a single letter reinforces this abstraction, stripping him of personal identity and aligning him with function rather than humanity.

A’s relationship with B further clarifies his role. While B introduces moments of reflection, A consistently anchors the discussion back to procedure. He tolerates B’s hesitations only insofar as they do not disrupt progress. This dynamic positions A as the stabilizing force of the system—the one who ensures that doubt does not evolve into resistance. Through A, Beckett illustrates how institutional authority absorbs uncertainty without allowing it to alter outcomes.

Crucially, A never acknowledges C as a presence. Even though C stands physically nearby, A treats him as an absence already converted into text. This refusal to recognize embodied humanity underscores A’s fundamental function: to transform life into an object that can be concluded. When C finally disappears, A’s response—closing the file—confirms that for him, death is not an event but a procedural endpoint.

In conclusion, A is not a character driven by malice, ambition, or belief, but by functionality. He represents the terrifying normality of systems that eliminate human lives without hatred or passion. Through A, Beckett exposes a form of power that is quiet, efficient, and devastating precisely because it believes itself to be reasonable. A does not kill C; he merely finishes the process—and in Beckett’s world, that distinction makes all the difference.

 

Character Analysis of B in Rough for Theatre II

In Samuel Beckett’s Rough for Theatre II, B functions as a counterpoint to A, providing a lens through which the audience glimpses both hesitation and the faintest trace of human concern within a systemically impersonal world. While A represents unwavering procedural authority, B embodies the illusion of moral reflection—he questions, speculates, and occasionally hesitates, yet he ultimately participates fully in the judgment of C. B’s character illustrates the tension between human conscience and bureaucratic inevitability, highlighting how even self-doubt cannot escape institutional determinism.

B’s most prominent trait is his speculative nature. Unlike A, who treats the documents as incontrovertible truth, B occasionally wonders whether the evidence is sufficient or accurate. He entertains the possibility that C’s life may have meaning or value beyond what is recorded. This reflective tendency introduces a subtle layer of humanity into the proceedings, yet Beckett deliberately limits its effectiveness. B’s hesitations are never forceful enough to challenge A’s authority or the system they uphold. This contrast exposes a central theme of the play: doubt without power is powerless, and reflection without action is impotent.

B also demonstrates a degree of emotional responsiveness. He occasionally expresses frustration, pity, or curiosity regarding C’s life. These moments suggest that he is capable of recognizing the individual behind the documents. However, his affective responses are always mediated through the lens of procedure. He does not engage with C directly and cannot intervene. Beckett uses this to illustrate how even awareness of suffering becomes meaningless when constrained by institutional rules and structures.

Another defining aspect of B’s character is his oral presence versus procedural passivity. While he speaks more freely than A, his speech rarely advances C’s interests. His commentary often circles contradictions in the documents, attempting to interpret or reconcile them, yet the process never translates into action. Beckett presents B’s verbal activity as performative rather than effective, emphasizing how language in modern systems can be both abundant and impotent. B talks, but the outcome remains unchanged—C’s fate is already determined.

B’s relationship with A further clarifies his character. He oscillates between mild resistance and complicity, testing the boundaries of authority but never exceeding them. Beckett portrays B as the quintessential participant in bureaucratic judgment: one who recognizes moral ambiguity but cannot—or will not—disrupt the machinery of decision-making. Through this dynamic, B embodies the internalized tension between conscience and compliance, a theme that resonates far beyond the play’s minimal setting.

Symbolically, B represents the human element constrained by systems of power. He reminds the audience that awareness or sensitivity alone is insufficient to prevent injustice. His character demonstrates how ordinary humans—capable of reflection, hesitation, and empathy—are often absorbed into impersonal procedures, their ethical impulses neutralized by routine and authority. By contrast with A, B highlights that the capacity for moral recognition is not enough to alter outcomes in a world governed by procedural finality.

Finally, B’s function in the play underscores Beckett’s exploration of agency versus determinism. He possesses insight but lacks influence. He can perceive complexity, question the data, and speculate on C’s interior life, yet he cannot prevent the final act of disappearance. This duality makes B both more relatable and more tragic than A: he is human enough to hesitate, yet powerless enough to conform.

In conclusion, B is the voice of contemplation without effect. He introduces doubt, curiosity, and faint traces of empathy into a world dominated by A’s procedural certainty, yet he ultimately reinforces the system through his inability to act. Beckett uses B to demonstrate that awareness of injustice or futility does not guarantee intervention, and that even moral reflection can be subsumed by the indifferent processes that govern modern existence. B is the conscience that cannot save, the humanity that cannot prevent erasure—a haunting mirror of the audience’s own potential passivity.

 

Character Analysis of C in Rough for Theatre II

In Samuel Beckett’s Rough for Theatre II, the character C is the silent center around which the play revolves, yet he is never fully “present” in the conventional theatrical sense. Unlike A and B, who articulate, reason, and occupy roles of authority, C exists primarily as a symbol of human vulnerability, voicelessness, and existential exposure. His character challenges traditional notions of agency and dramatization, transforming silence and stillness into profound commentary on the precariousness of existence.

C’s most defining feature is his silence. He never speaks, questions, or protests. This muteness is not a passive condition; it is central to his function within the play. Through C’s silence, Beckett emphasizes the power imbalance between life and institutional authority. While A and B articulate judgment, speculate, and interpret, C’s voice is absent, leaving him exposed to categorization without defense. His muteness thus transforms him into a figure of existential isolation, embodying the human experience of being subject to forces beyond one’s control.

Closely related to his silence is C’s stillness and physical positioning. C stands near a window or ledge, implied to be on the threshold of death, yet he does not act until the play’s conclusion. His physical suspension mirrors his existential liminality: he is caught between life and death, presence and erasure. Beckett uses C’s immobility as a motif for human passivity in the face of external judgment. In this sense, C is less a character defined by personality and more a canvas upon which the audience and the judges project meaning, value, and futility.

C is also a fragmented identity, defined entirely through the observations and documents of others. A and B reconstruct his life from reports, contradictory accounts, and secondhand impressions. As a result, C is never “known” in his own terms; he exists only as the sum of judgments imposed upon him. This external construction of identity highlights the theme of human reduction to data. C’s life is examined as if it were a dossier or a problem to be solved, demonstrating Beckett’s critique of bureaucratic and institutional systems that prioritize documentation over lived reality.

Despite his silence and absence, C evokes a quiet emotional resonance. The audience can perceive his implied suffering, alienation, and despair. C represents the universal human condition under judgment: exposed, evaluated, and ultimately expendable. His character challenges the audience to confront the ethics of observation and the consequences of passivity. Unlike A and B, whose authority and speech protect them, C’s value is constantly under negotiation, underscoring the fragility of human existence when left to the interpretations of others.

Finally, C’s exit—implied suicide or disappearance—cements his role as a symbol of the inevitable consequences of systemic indifference. He is not dramatized as a tragic hero or an active agent; his disappearance is procedural, almost administrative, mirroring the cold efficiency of the judgment passed upon him. Through this, Beckett transforms C into a vehicle for exploring mortality, agency, and the quiet erasure of life, rather than a conventional dramatic protagonist.

In conclusion, C is a silent, immobile, and externally defined figure whose presence drives the philosophical and emotional weight of Rough for Theatre II. He embodies the vulnerability, voicelessness, and reduction of human existence in a world dominated by procedure, documentation, and authority. Beckett’s portrayal of C forces the audience to confront the tension between agency and powerlessness, presence and erasure, making him both the emotional core of the play and the most haunting figure of Beckettian drama.