Topdog/Underdog: Scene Five Summary & Analysis

Throughout the play, it has become increasingly obvious that Booth actively tries to trick Lincoln into thinking his relationship with Grace is going well. However, this is the first time the audience comes to understand that Lincoln isn’t the only person Booth has been trying to convince—indeed, he has been deceiving himself, too. It has already been made clear that Grace hasn’t actually been having sex with Booth (a fact supported by his statement about needing to relieve himself), but nonetheless, he deludes himself into thinking that their relationship is so solid and stable that they might one day share matching pajamas. This is, of course, rather delusional, a notion reinforced by the fact that Grace doesn’t even care enough about Booth to come to his fancy dinner on time.

Lincoln’s story about hearing his parents have sex is perhaps a tactical move to convince Booth to open the door—knowing his brother is a person who likes the idea of “wip[ing] away” the past, he references their troubled childhood, perhaps trying to disarm Booth. When that doesn’t work, he resorts to a more straightforward tactic: admitting that he has lost his job. Still, though, Booth doesn’t let him in right away, which once more points to the notion that he’s comfortable opposing his older brother. Whereas most siblings would instantly comfort one another after a fresh hardship, Booth holds his ground against Lincoln, yet again reinforcing the competitive and combative streak that runs through their relationship.

For Booth, a steady job like Lincoln’s position at the arcade curtails freedom, whereas living the life of a hustler—a life full of deception—is liberating. Of course, he himself is totally unbound by any sense of permanence, and he only survives because Lincoln shares his paychecks. This is yet another complicated aspect of Lincoln and Booth’s relationship as brothers—Booth critiques Lincoln for being responsible while simultaneously depending on his income. When he says, “Maybe yll show me yr moves sometime,” he backhandedly frames his own inability to do anything but steal as something that falls to Lincoln to remedy. In this way, Booth relies on Lincoln while constantly trying to prove otherwise—this is perhaps why he’s often so eager to emasculate or demean his older brother.

Lincoln’s fabricated memories are strangely at odds with his normal acceptance of the painful facts of history. Indeed, in most other scenes he appears to understand that the past can’t be altered and that people must live with and embrace the ways in which their personal histories have shaped their lives. At the same time, his impulse to make his and Booth’s childhood sound more idyllic than it actually was does align with his earlier comment about how people like their history to “fold” up “neatly.” In the same way that the arcade customers are willing to acknowledge the painful national history of Abraham Lincoln’s assassination only when it’s presented in an appealing manner, Lincoln permits himself in this moment to think about his childhood by superimposing a sense of exaggerated happiness on it.

Lincoln’s nostalgia—and his inaccurate portrayal of his childhood—only lasts for a short time before he asks his brother a difficult question about why their parents left them. This suggests that painful histories can’t simply be fabricated to be more appealing or palatable. Although Lincoln tries to present his upbringing as idyllic, he quickly acknowledges that his parents abandoned him and his brother. Booth, on the other hand, tries to downplay the negative elements of his past, seemingly protecting himself from admitting the pain his parents’ departure caused him.

Once again, Booth conceptualizes a responsible, “steady” lifestyle as something that inhibits a person’s capacity to live freely. Freedom, it seems, is very important to him, despite the fact that he is completely financially reliant on his brother. To prove that he deserves the kind of freedom he so desires, he announces that Grace can’t force him into a monogamous relationship—a somewhat humorous assertion, considering that Grace doesn’t even seem to like him enough eat dinner with him, let alone demand his fidelity.

The origins of the brothers’ competition with one another reveals itself in this moment. Indeed, it becomes evident that their parents pitted them against one another, giving them both money but instructing them not to tell one another, thereby implying that they can’t trust each other. Although the brothers have clearly told one another about their inheritances, their parents’ divisive instructions have nonetheless still affected their relationship.

Once again, a tenderness reveals itself in Booth and Lincoln’s relationship. Although they frequently argue and sometimes exchange quite hurtful words (especially in Booth’s case), they’re also capable of showing appreciation for one another. As such, Parks yet again demonstrates the complex and multifaceted nature of brotherhood, showcasing the kind of bond that both produces and eases tension between these two men. On another note, Booth’s explanation of Three-Card Monte serves as an explanation to the audience about how hustlers meticulously manufacture circumstances so that passersby think they’re entering into a casual atmosphere, when in reality they’re stepping into a highly rehearsed routine. 

It’s worth noting in this moment how quickly Lincoln gets Booth to forget about Grace simply by finally letting his little brother feel like he’s “right” about something. Indeed, when Booth correctly explains why customers are called “marks,” his confidence balloons, and he suddenly has no problem completely dismantling the fancy dinner table he had set for Grace. In turn, Parks reveals Booth’s priorities: above all, he’ll chase the feeling of being “right,” of being seen as knowledgeable and credible. Even his preoccupation with Grace is secondary to this fundamental struggle to prove himself both to his brother and to himself. 

That Booth says, “You never know, man,” when Lincoln asks why he carries a gun in his own home indicates how little he trusts his brother. And the fact that he has been carrying the pistol in preparation for a date with Grace suggests once again that he conflates violence and dominance with romance and sexual encounters. Whereas violence would be the farthest thing from the average person’s mind before a romantic dinner date, Booth arms himself in preparation for Grace’s arrival.

It’s no surprise that Booth is instantly uncomfortable about getting “sized up” by his brother. After all, this is a man who’s so ill at ease even in his own home that he carries a gun in preparation for a romantic dinner. It’s no wonder, then, that he detests being surveyed by Lincoln, his older brother with whom he already feels competitive. Booth is so concentrated on how his brother is treating him that he seemingly fails to listen to Lincoln’s advice about what “is” and what “aint”—a failure worth keeping in mind as the play progresses and the brothers continue their discussions of Three-Card Monte.

When Lincoln explains to Booth that the dealer always gives marks the impression that he doesn’t want to play, he essentially describes an essential truth about the nature of deception: the easiest kind of person to deceive is an overeager person who loses touch with reality. Indeed, these people end up taking on instrumental roles in their own deception because they’re eager to play a game that has been rigged against them from the beginning. This, it seems, is merely part of the dealer’s routine, a notion Lincoln underlines when he talks about the “patter” and the “pitter pat” a hustler delivers whilst dealing the cards. As such, Parks shows that, contrary to what an unsuspecting spectator might believe, deception is a highly ordered process designed to disarm marks and invite them to participate in their own undoing. It’s also worth noting that Booth seems susceptible to such deception, since he takes Lincoln’s act so seriously.

For perhaps the first time in the entire play, Booth manages to attain the upper hand over his brother. Though his triumph comes only in the form of a practice round—and one in which Lincoln isn’t even performing the entirety of his routine, at that—he still seizes the opportunity to gloat. By calling himself a “champ,” he once again reveals his emotional need to be seen (and to see himself) as a winner, as somebody capable of besting a naturally confident person like Lincoln. 

Once again, Booth eagerly snatches the opportunity to brag about himself, capitalizing on this rare moment to cast himself as a winner. When he says, “You didnt know lil bro had thuh stuff, huh?”, it becomes clear that he himself thinks Lincoln sees him as inferior. In turn, this belief fuels his sudden delight at beating his brother, and the competition between them once again comes to the forefront of the play’s relational and emotional considerations.

The difference between how Lincoln and Booth see the world is apparent in their respective reactions to Grace’s absence. While Lincoln worries that something has happened to her, Booth thinks she’s intentionally trying to make him look stupid. Here again, his insecurity informs how he responds, this time in an ominous way, considering that he puts his gun in his pocket before leaving the apartment (presumably to track down Grace). His parting words only serve as further evidence of his desperate attempts to make himself look like a confident and dominant man. “Im my own man,” he says, making a concerted effort to accentuate the fact that he can act independently of his brother (a notion that he has not yet necessarily proved, since he lives off of Lincoln’s income).