The person01–03
01·Who they are
Who is Lincoln?
Lincoln, called "Link" by his brother, is a man of compacted contradictions: gifted, broken, and perpetually performing. At the play's opening, he arrives home in his arcade costume, white face paint still on, dressed as the president who shares his name. Parks plants that absurdity immediately and insists the audience sit with it. A Black man in America named Lincoln, paid to be shot by strangers in a simulation of history's most famous assassination. The costume is not incidental colour; it is the central metaphor. Lincoln has traded his genuine, dangerous talent—three-card monte, a con that required intelligence, charisma, and nerve—for a role defined entirely by someone else's script. He is a man of real gifts occupying a borrowed identity, and the play's central dramatic question is whether he can sustain that bargain.
02·Arc & motivation
What is Lincoln's arc and motivation?
Lincoln's arc is a return dressed as a fall. When the play begins, he has already quit hustling, already lost his wife Cookie, already downsized his life to a shared room and a paycheck from Zach. His stated motivation for going straight is moral weight: Lonny's death, the beatings, the realisation that the hustle destroys people. He repeats this rationale with the cadence of a man who has rehearsed it many times, which is itself a tell. His real motivation is fear—fear of violence, yes, but also fear of what it means to be exceptional at something the world refuses to legitimise.
The arc pivots the moment Booth presses the cards into his hands. Lincoln's fingers remember before his mind consents. "Ima show you how to throw the cards" is not an act of brotherly generosity; it is Link rediscovering that the hustle never left him, that going straight was always its own performance. From that scene onward, his resistance crumbles in increments: he coaches, he demonstrates, and finally he plays for real stakes, conning Booth out of his inheritance in the climactic game. The arc ends in death—strangled by his brother—confirming that the return to the cards was not recovery but relapse into a cycle the play frames as structurally inescapable.
03·Key moments
What are Lincoln's key moments?
The costume arrival (Scene One): Lincoln walks in wearing whiteface and an Abraham Lincoln costume after his shift. The visual gag lands as both comedy and horror, immediately establishing the debasement of legitimate employment and the layered ironies of his name.
The first card demonstration: When Lincoln picks up Booth's cards and his hands instinctively execute the moves, Parks stages the most quietly devastating moment in the play. The skill is effortless. Every reason Lincoln gave for quitting is exposed as rationalisation.
"Don't open it. Don't open it. Don't open it." Lincoln's chant as Booth grips his inheritance—a knotted stocking stuffed with cash—is the play's most anguished plea. He knows what is about to happen because he made it happen. The repeated phrase is guilt, superstition, and a last attempt to protect his brother from a game that was never fair.
The final monte game and its aftermath: Lincoln deals, Booth loses, Grace is already gone, and the inheritance Booth saved his whole adult life is on the table. The revelation that the stocking may contain only newspaper rather than money—and Booth's immediate, lethal response—completes the title's logic. Topdog and underdog have traded places so many times the distinction collapses, and both are destroyed.
The cast04–05
04·Relationships
What are Lincoln's most important relationships?
Lincoln's relationship with Booth is the play's entire emotional architecture. Lincoln taught Booth the hustle, giving his brother both a gift and a weapon. Their tenderness is genuine—they share food, swap memories of their parents' separate abandonment, and perform the easy shorthand of men who have known each other forever. But the mentorship creates a permanent hierarchy that Booth cannot escape and Lincoln cannot stop exploiting. "We're brothers. We supposed to look out for each other" rings hollow against "I am not my brother's keeper," a line that amounts to Lincoln refusing accountability for the con he just ran.
Cookie functions as a ghost of Lincoln's capacity for intimacy. Her departure mirrors the broader pattern: Link cannot hold onto anything legitimate, and references to her establish that his losses predate the arcade job by years.
Lonny is Lincoln's moral alibi. Lonny died in the hustle, and Lincoln wears that death as a reason to stay clean. When Link picks up the cards again, he implicitly decides Lonny's death was not sufficient warning—a self-betrayal the play treats with devastating matter-of-factness.
Zach, Lincoln's supervisor, never appears onstage but looms over every scene set in the arcade. His authority to dictate Lincoln's costume, posture, and wage makes the "legitimate" life a different species of con—one Lincoln performs for far less reward and far less control.
05·Connected characters
How is Lincoln connected to the other characters?
The evidence06
06·Key quotes
What are Lincoln’s most famous quotes?
“Ima show you how to throw the cards.”
Lincoln · to Booth · Act Two
Why it matters
In Suzan-Lori Parks's two-hander play Topdog/Underdog, Lincoln speaks this line to his younger brother Booth. The play revolves around two Black brothers sharing a rundown rooming house, with the street con game Three-card Monte serving as the central symbol of their lives and rivalry. Lincoln, a former hustler who once made a living throwing cards, has tried to go "straight" by working a dead-end job impersonating Abraham Lincoln at an arcade. Booth, eager to learn the con and regain a sense of power and identity, pressures Lincoln into teaching him. When Lincoln finally gives in and says this line, it signals a crucial turning point: his return to the hustle he wanted to escape. This moment encapsulates the play's themes of poverty cycles, brotherhood, competition, and the alluring nature of street life. Teaching Booth the cards isn't a generous act; it ignites the tragic endgame of their relationship, where skill, pride, and money clash with devastating consequences. The cards become a metaphor for fate, inheritance, and the unfair games that Black men must navigate in America.
“Don't open it. Don't open it. Don't open it.”
Lincoln · to Booth · Scene 6 (climactic final scene)
Why it matters
This urgent, repetitive plea is delivered by Lincoln near the climax of Suzan-Lori Parks's Topdog/Underdog (2001), directed at his brother Booth, who clutches the knotted stocking left to him by their mother. Lincoln understands — through hard-won street experience — that the money inside is likely far less than Booth imagines and that Booth's dreams of a better life will be dashed the moment he opens it. The triple repetition reflects the hypnotic, incantatory rhythm Parks employs throughout the play and mirrors the three-card monte patter that shapes the brothers' lives. Thematically, this line captures the play's core tension between hope and reality, illusion and truth. The sealed stocking symbolizes Booth's last psychological refuge — his belief that he deserves something, that he has been chosen. Lincoln's warning serves as both an act of brotherly love and a foreshadowing of doom: once the stocking is opened, the fragile bond between the brothers shatters into fatal violence, sealing the play's tragic, predetermined conclusion.
“You got to keep the card in the mind of the man.”
Lincoln (Link) · to Booth (3-Card) · Three-card monte rehearsal scene
Why it matters
This line is delivered by Lincoln, also known as "Link," in Suzan-Lori Parks's Topdog/Underdog. It appears during one of the many scenes where the brothers practice or talk about the three-card monte hustle. Lincoln, the older sibling and a former street con artist, is teaching Booth, referred to as "3-Card," about the psychological essence of the con: it’s not just about skillful hands or where the card is physically located — it’s about shaping what the mark thinks he sees. The dealer needs to create a mental picture so convincing that the mark's own certainty becomes his downfall. This line carries deeper themes beyond the game itself. It reflects the play's focus on illusion, manipulation, and identity: both brothers are perpetually "running a game" on one another and on themselves, fabricating and maintaining stories about who holds the upper hand. Furthermore, the quote hints at the play's tragic climax, where Lincoln's greater skill in misdirection — keeping the card "in the mind" — becomes crucial. Parks employs the hustle as a metaphor for the systemic deceptions influencing Black male identity and brotherly rivalry in America.
“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.
“I am not my brother's keeper.”
Lincoln (Link) · to Booth · Late in the play, during a climactic confrontation between the two brothers
Why it matters
In Suzan-Lori Parks's Topdog/Underdog, this line is delivered by Lincoln, or "Link," one of the two brothers at the heart of the play. It comes during a tense moment between Lincoln and his younger brother Booth, as their rivalry, resentment, and dependency on each other reach a peak. The phrase directly references the biblical story of Cain and Abel (Genesis 4:9), where Cain deflects God's question about Abel's whereabouts with those same words — a chilling hint at the play's tragic conclusion, where Booth fatally shoots Lincoln.
This quote carries significant thematic weight: it captures the brothers' fractured relationship, their competition over money (the inheritance tied to three-card monte), identity, and survival. Parks intentionally uses the biblical reference — the characters' names, Lincoln and Booth, already evoke a famous assassination. By referencing Cain and Abel, she adds another archetypal story of brother killing brother to the narrative, implying that this cycle of fraternal violence is as ancient as humanity itself. The line emphasizes the play's central tragedy: that the brothers are deeply intertwined, even in death.
“I could be you, you know. I could be the one sitting in that chair.”
Lincoln · to Booth · Shared rooming-house room, mid-play confrontation between the brothers
Why it matters
This line is delivered by Lincoln to his brother Booth in Suzan-Lori Parks's play Topdog/Underdog (2001). It comes up during one of their tense conversations in their shared room at a boarding house, as Lincoln — who makes a living at an arcade impersonating Abraham Lincoln and allowing tourists to "shoot" him — contemplates the fluid and interchangeable aspects of their identities and destinies. The quote encapsulates the play's main theme: the brothers are caught in an ongoing power struggle, each capable of taking the other's place. Their names — Lincoln and Booth, reminiscent of the historical assassin and his victim — highlight how roles of power and victimhood can flip at any time. The line also hints at the tragic climax of the play, where the designations of "topdog" and "underdog" ultimately and violently change places. Thematically, it explores issues of race, masculinity, economic insecurity, and the American myth of self-reinvention: identity is not static but performed, and survival hinges on who has control over the hustle at any moment.
“3-Card Monte. The card game of the streets.”
Lincoln (Link) · to Booth · Early in the play, rooming-house setting
Why it matters
This line is spoken by Lincoln, or "Link," in Suzan-Lori Parks's Pulitzer Prize-winning play Topdog/Underdog. He shares it while discussing — or maybe even romanticizing — the street hustle of three-card monte, the con game that shaped his past and consumed his brother Booth. The quote comes early in the play, as the brothers, living together in a cramped rooming house, navigate their shared history with the game. Lincoln has attempted to move on from the hustle by taking a legitimate (albeit degrading) job impersonating Abraham Lincoln at an arcade, while Booth is eager to master three-card monte and regain the street credibility Lincoln once enjoyed. This line is significant thematically because it portrays the card game as more than just a trick; it symbolizes survival, identity, race, and the tempting allure of the underground economy for Black men who are excluded from mainstream opportunities. The "streets" referenced here reflect both a tangible environment and a psychological trap: the brothers are constantly torn between escaping their reality and being defined by it, with the monte table serving as the play's key metaphor for fate, chance, and the illusion of control.
“Hustling is an art.”
Lincoln · to Booth · Rooming house — brothers debating the con game
Why it matters
In Suzan-Lori Parks's two-hander play Topdog/Underdog (2001), Lincoln, the older brother, speaks this line to his younger sibling Booth. The story follows two Black brothers living in a dilapidated rooming house, getting by with small-time schemes and card hustling. Lincoln, who used to hustle three-card monte on the streets, is now trying to turn his life around by working as an Abraham Lincoln impersonator in an arcade. He delivers this line during a discussion about the ethics and skills involved in conning. This line is crucial because it reframes hustling — often seen as criminal or shameful — as a legitimate skill that requires expertise, discipline, and creativity. Parks uses it to explore how systemic poverty and racial inequality compel marginalized men to hone "illegitimate" talents as a means of survival. The assertion also hints at the play's tragic ending: Lincoln's talent ultimately pulls him back into the hustle, while Booth's desperate wish to master that same skill leads the brothers toward ruin. This quote captures the play's main conflict between aspiration and entrapment, dignity and desperation.
Study07–08
07·Questions
Questions readers ask about Lincoln
What job does Lincoln have in Topdog/Underdog?
Lincoln works at an arcade, where he impersonates Abraham Lincoln and allows tourists to shoot him with a cap gun for a paycheck. He arrives home each night in whiteface and a period costume, a visual image Parks employs as the play's central metaphor: a Black man named Lincoln, paid to reenact the assassination of the president who shares his name, trading genuine talent for a borrowed, demeaning identity.
What is Lincoln's most famous line in Topdog/Underdog?
"Don't open it. Don't open it. Don't open it." is Lincoln's most anguished utterance, repeated as Booth grips the knotted stocking stuffed with his inheritance. The chant reflects guilt, superstition, and a last desperate attempt to protect his brother—from a game Lincoln himself has just rigged against him. This desperation serves as the play's emotional breaking point.
Why does Lincoln return to the three-card monte hustle after quitting?
Lincoln returns because his talent remains—moment Booth presses the cards into his hands, his fingers execute the moves before his mind consents. His stated reasons for quitting (Lonny's death, the beatings, the violence) are revealed as rationalisation. The play suggests his "going straight" was always its own performance, and the hustle's allure, combined with Booth's pressure, gradually breaks down his resolve.
How does Lincoln die in Topdog/Underdog?
Lincoln is strangled by his brother Booth after conning him out of his inheritance in a final, rigged three-card monte game. The killing makes the play's title brutally literal: topdog and underdog have traded places so frequently that the distinction collapses, resulting in the destruction of both brothers. Lincoln's death frames the cycle of rivalry and mentorship as structurally inescapable rather than a matter of individual choice.
What is Lincoln's relationship with Booth in Topdog/Underdog?
Booth is Lincoln's younger brother, roommate, and the most vital—and fatal—relationship in the play. Lincoln originally taught Booth the three-card monte hustle, creating a power imbalance that festers beneath their genuine tenderness. They share food, reminisce about their parents' abandonment, and communicate in the shorthand of lifelong familiarity, yet Lincoln ultimately exploits that closeness, running a rigged game that strips Booth of everything and costs Lincoln his life.
What does Lincoln mean when he says "I am not my brother's keeper"?
The line is Lincoln's refusal to take accountability for the con he has just run on Booth, arriving immediately after his warmer claim that "We're brothers. We supposed to look out for each other." This contradiction reveals Lincoln's self-deception: he invokes brotherhood when it suits him and discards it when it demands sacrifice. Parks uses the biblical echo to frame Lincoln's betrayal as both personal and archetypal.
Who is Lonny, and why does he matter to Lincoln's story?
Lonny was a member of Lincoln's former street crew who was killed during the hustle. Lincoln repeatedly cites Lonny's death as the moral reason he quit three-card monte, making Lonny a ghostly anchor for his reformed identity. When Lincoln picks up the cards again, he implicitly decides that Lonny's fate was not a sufficient warning—a self-betrayal the play treats with devastating matter-of-factness.
What does Lincoln's costume as President Abraham Lincoln symbolise in the play?
The costume crystallises the play's central irony: a Black man named Lincoln, paid to be shot in a simulation of the most famous presidential assassination in American history. Parks uses it to argue that Lincoln's "legitimate" life is itself a performance scripted entirely by others, offering far less control and reward than the hustle ever did. The whiteface and period dress literalise how the straight world demands he erase his own identity to survive.
08·Essay angles
Use this in your essay
Tool · Essay angles