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Character analysis

Booth

in Topdog/Underdog by Suzan-Lori Parks

Booth is one of the two main characters in Suzan-Lori Parks's two-hander Topdog/Underdog, a young Black man living in a dilapidated rooming house with his older brother Lincoln. He is volatile, delusional, and desperately seeking respect, spending the play plotting a life of status that always seems just out of reach. His main hustle is three-card monte, a street con he practices obsessively but never quite masters, insisting he will outshine Lincoln's legendary skill even as each rehearsal highlights his clumsiness. He shoplifts designer suits and fantasizes about rekindling his relationship with Grace, weaving an elaborate story that he is on the brink of wealth and romance. These fantasies unravel in real time: Grace stands him up on the night he has planned a romantic dinner, and the suit he stole doesn’t fit.

Booth's journey is marked by a series of humiliations hidden behind a facade of bravado. He gives himself the nickname "3-Card" to claim an identity that Lincoln has already left behind, and he keeps a nylon stocking—his inheritance from their mother—under paranoid secrecy, refusing to let Lincoln near it. That stocking becomes the play's tragic prop: when Lincoln wins it in a card game, Booth kills him, the eruption of violence exposing how deeply his self-worth relied on being the one thing Lincoln couldn’t take from him. Booth is both pitiable and terrifying—a man whose love for his brother is intertwined with a need to destroy him.

About this character

Form
Play
Author
Suzan-Lori Parks
First published
2001

The person01–03

01·Who they are

Who is Booth?

Booth is the younger of two brothers sharing a single rented room in an unnamed American city. From his first entrance, he radiates an anxious, combustible energy that never fully settles. He is in his late twenties, unemployed in a conventional sense, and surviving through shoplifting—he walks in early in the play with stolen suits layered under his clothes, peeling them off like a magic trick he hopes to be applauded for. Parks names him with historical irony: John Wilkes Booth assassinated Abraham Lincoln, and the play's Lincoln is precisely who this Booth will eventually destroy. This irony accumulates quietly beneath a surface of street slang, sexual boasting, and card-practice monologues. Booth presents himself as a man on the verge—of money, of romance, of mastery—but every scene chips away at that presentation, revealing someone who is fundamentally afraid he has already been left behind.

02·Arc & motivation

What is Booth's arc and motivation?

Booth's arc is a sustained, painful effort to build an identity strong enough to withstand comparison with his brother. His central project is three-card monte: he practices the throws obsessively throughout the play, narrating his own moves in the third person ("Watch me now"), as though performing for an audience that isn't there. Crucially, he adopts the street name "3-Card"—Lincoln's old name from Lincoln's prior life—suggesting he can inherit prestige by claiming the title. His motivation goes beyond simple greed or ambition; it stems from the need to be the one thing Lincoln is not. When Lincoln, who has quit the con and taken a job impersonating Abraham Lincoln at an arcade, is coaxed back to the cards and immediately surpasses Booth's weeks of practice in a single demonstration, the humiliation is existential. Booth's entire self-concept hinges on there being a domain where he leads and Lincoln follows.

03·Key moments

What are Booth's key moments?

The ill-fitting stolen suit serves as an early, almost comic emblem of Booth's condition: he has gone to considerable criminal effort to acquire an image of success that simply isn't tailored to him. The dinner he prepares for Grace—tidying the room, setting the table, waiting—represents the play's quietest scene of vulnerability, and her failure to appear strips away his romantic narrative completely. His frantic lie afterward, insisting Grace came and they reconciled, marks the first moment where his self-delusion shifts from sympathetic to alarming.

The card game in the final scene marks the play's catastrophe. Lincoln agrees to one last game; Booth bets the nylon stocking that holds his inheritance from their mother—his one possession guarded with paranoid ferocity, refusing even to let Lincoln look at it. Lincoln wins it cleanly. When Booth opens the stocking and finds Grace's body inside (she had not stood him up; he had killed her earlier, a fact he has concealed from the audience and perhaps partly from himself), the scene's violence takes on both retrospective and immediate significance. He shoots Lincoln. His final line—"We're brothers. We supposed to look out for each other"—functions as both accusation and confession, revealing love that has always been intertwined with his need to dominate.

The cast04–05

04·Relationships

What are Booth's most important relationships?

Lincoln is the fixed point around which Booth's entire psychology revolves. He craves Lincoln's guidance, seeks Lincoln's praise, and cannot forgive Lincoln for being better. Their tenderness is genuine—the brothers share food, memories, and laughter—but every warm exchange contains a power negotiation. When Lincoln teaches Booth the monte throws, the lesson simultaneously demonstrates superiority that Booth can barely endure.

Grace serves as Booth's external proof of desirability and progress. She is never onstage, meaning she exists only as Booth imagines her: an audience for the man he wishes to become. Her "rejection" and his ensuing lie reveal Booth's inability to tolerate witnesses to his failure—not even himself.

Cookie, the discarded ex, along with street figures Zach and Lonny, populate the background, providing evidence of a world Booth romanticizes. Lonny's implied grim fate acts as a road sign Booth refuses to acknowledge.

05·Connected characters

How is Booth connected to the other characters?

Lincoln

Booth's older brother and roommate, and the play's central relationship.

Full commentary

Booth's older brother and roommate, and the play's central relationship. Booth idolizes and resents Lincoln in equal measure: he needs Lincoln's approval and card-hustling tutelage, yet is consumed by the need to surpass him. Their bond is tender in moments of shared memory and explosive in competition, culminating in Booth shooting Lincoln after losing the inherited money in a card game.

Grace

Booth's on-again, off-again girlfriend, present only through his accounts of her. He invests enormous emotional energy in winning her back, stealing a suit and preparing a dinner to impress her, but she stands him up. Her rejection is a key blow to his self-image and foreshadows the play's violent finale.

Cookie

Booth's ex-girlfriend, referenced as a cautionary contrast to Grace. She represents a past Booth has discarded as he chases a fantasy of upward mobility and romantic conquest, and her memory underscores his pattern of failed relationships.

Zach

A figure from Booth's street past, mentioned in the context of three-card monte and the hustling world Booth aspires to dominate. Zach's references help establish the competitive male hierarchy Booth is desperate to climb.

Lonny

Another figure from the brothers' shared past on the street hustle circuit, invoked when Lincoln recounts the old crew. Lonny's fate (implied to be grim) serves as a warning about the world Booth romanticizes, though Booth largely ignores the lesson.

The evidence06

06·Key quotes

What are Booth’s most famous quotes?

We're brothers. We supposed to look out for each other.

Lincoln / Booth · to Each other (Lincoln and Booth) · Rooming house — mid-play reconciliation exchange

Why it matters

This line is spoken by Lincoln (or shared between both brothers) in Suzan-Lori Parks's Topdog/Underdog, a two-person play focused on brothers Lincoln and Booth, who live together in a shabby rooming house with a strained relationship. The quote appears during one of the play's frequent moments of awkward reconciliation, when the brothers' rivalry, resentment, and reliance on each other momentarily shift to a heartfelt appeal for family loyalty. This moment is significant thematically because the entire play questions what brotherhood truly means in a zero-sum survival scenario: the two men vie for money, identity, and a dangerous three-card monte scheme that ultimately leads to their downfall. In hindsight, the line is ironic — the promise of mutual support is one that the play carefully dismantles. Parks uses it to reveal how the illusion of family solidarity clashes with the realities of poverty, abandonment (as both were deserted by their parents), and a society that forces Black men to compete against each other. The phrase "supposed to" is crucial: it indicates obligation without fulfillment, hope without action, and foreshadows the tragic conclusion where brotherhood ultimately devolves into violence.

You ain't gonna be doing no more cards. Lincoln. You done.

Booth · to Lincoln · Final scene (Scene Six / climax)

Why it matters

This chilling line is spoken by Booth to his brother Lincoln near the climax of Suzan-Lori Parks's Pulitzer Prize-winning play Topdog/Underdog (2001). The moment comes after Lincoln performs one final, impressive three-card monte hustle—showcasing the very skill Booth has been trying to master throughout the play. Overwhelmed by jealousy, humiliation, and a lifetime of sibling rivalry, Booth shoots Lincoln dead right after saying these words. The statement carries a heavy irony: "Lincoln" recalls the historical president's assassination, a fate that Parks foreshadows from the very first scene through the brothers' absurd yet meaningful names. Thematically, the line sharpens the play's central concerns—competition, identity, and the cyclical nature of Black poverty and violence in America. Booth's words signal the betrayal of brotherhood: these two men have been each other's only family, yet the same hustler's logic of "topdog" and "underdog" that governs street survival ultimately tears apart their bond. The card game, a metaphor for systemic con artistry and false promise, concludes not with a victor but with destruction.

Study07–08

07·Questions

Questions readers ask about Booth

Why does Booth kill Lincoln at the end of Topdog/Underdog?

Booth shoots Lincoln after losing his inherited nylon stocking—the one possession he guarded with paranoid secrecy—in a final card game. The stocking, which conceals Grace's body, represents everything Booth had left: his mother's legacy and proof that Lincoln could not take everything from him. Losing it in a con Lincoln masters effortlessly becomes an existential humiliation Booth cannot endure without violence.

What is Booth's relationship with Lincoln in Topdog/Underdog?

Lincoln is Booth's older brother, roommate, and the fixed point around which Booth's entire psychology revolves. Booth craves Lincoln's approval and card-hustling guidance while being consumed by the need to surpass him. Their bond is genuinely tender—they share food, memories, and laughter—but every warm exchange involves a power negotiation, making love and rivalry effectively inseparable throughout the play.

What is Booth's most famous line in Topdog/Underdog?

Booth's most resonant line is his final one: "We're brothers. We supposed to look out for each other." Spoken after he has shot Lincoln, the line serves as both accusation and confession, exposing a love intertwined with his need to dominate. Its bitter irony is total: Booth invokes fraternal duty at the moment he has destroyed the only family he had.

Why does Booth call himself "3-Card" in the play?

Booth adopts the street name "3-Card"—Lincoln's own former hustle identity—to claim prestige by inheriting Lincoln's title. This gesture reveals his arc's central logic: rather than forge an original identity, he attempts to displace Lincoln's. Parks uses this detail to suggest that Booth's self-invention is fundamentally relational, defined against, and dependent upon, his brother.

What role does Grace play in Booth's story?

Grace is Booth's on-again, off-again girlfriend and his primary external proof of desirability—yet she never appears onstage, only existing through his accounts of her. He steals a suit and prepares a romantic dinner to win her back, but she stands him up. Her absence strips away his romantic narrative, and when it is revealed that he had already killed her, her role shifts from symbol of his aspirations to evidence of his concealed violence.

What does the nylon stocking symbolize for Booth?

The nylon stocking is Booth's inherited legacy from his mother—the one possession he guards with paranoid ferocity, refusing to let Lincoln near it. It symbolizes maternal inheritance, the last fragment of family that is solely his. When Lincoln wins it in the final card game and Booth discovers it conceals Grace's body, the prop combines personal, familial, and violent meaning into a single catastrophic moment.

Is Booth a villain in Topdog/Underdog?

Booth is both pitiable and terrifying, rather than a straightforward villain. His volatility, self-delusion, and ultimately murderous rage make him dangerous, but Parks grounds every extreme in comprehensible desperation: he is a young Black man who has internalized failure and lacks a framework beyond dominance to assert self-worth. His love for Lincoln is genuine even as it is intertwined with a need to destroy him, complicating any simple moral verdict.

How does Booth's stolen suit reflect his character?

The ill-fitting stolen suit is an early emblem of Booth's condition: he has gone to significant criminal effort to acquire an image of success that literally isn't tailored to him. Parks uses the detail comically, but its implication is stark—Booth can steal the costume of upward mobility without ever being able to wear it convincingly, foreshadowing every subsequent gap between his fantasies and his reality.

08·Essay angles

Use this in your essay

Tool · Essay angles

  • The inherited name as stolen identity: How does Booth's adoption of the nickname "3-Card" dramatize his attempt to displace Lincoln, and what does Parks suggest about the potential for self-invention when identity is inherently relational?

  • Performance and self-delusion: Booth narrates his card practice aloud, lies about Grace, and conceals a murder. Argue that performance in the play is not merely deceptive but constitutive—Booth becomes real to himself only when he has an audience, even an imaginary one.

  • The nylon stocking as inheritance: Analyze the stocking as a symbol of maternal legacy, financial desperation, and buried violence. What does Parks imply about what is passed down in families that have been structurally excluded from wealth?

  • Love and rivalry as inseparable: Utilizing specific scenes of fraternal warmth and competition, argue that Parks portrays love between the brothers not as corrupted by rivalry but as indistinguishable from it from the outset.

  • The Lincoln/Booth allusion and historical irony: To what extent does Parks utilize the brothers' names to comment on cycles of racial violence in America, and how does Booth's final act reframe or complicate that historical parallel?

Topdog/Underdog

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