Woyzeck tells the story of Franz Woyzeck, a soldier stationed in a German town in the early nineteenth century. Woyzeck’s low social status as a soldier leaves him vulnerable to abuse and exploitation from his employers and other higher-ranking members of his community. Because his position doesn’t pay enough for him to support himself, Marie, and their child, Woyzeck takes on extra work as a research subject for a local doctor who subjects Woyzeck to pain, discomfort, and humiliation, supposedly in the name of science. The absurdity of these experiments, which seem to lack a clear purpose beyond harming and degrading Woyzeck, adds to their cruelty and emphasizes how little respect Woyzeck’s society has for its lowest-ranking members. One experiment, for instance, requires Woyzeck to subsist solely on peas for three months, which, in addition to wreaking havoc on his physical health, undoubtedly plays a role in his worsening mental state. Even when Woyzeck isn’t being subjected to physical torment, higher-ranking members of society regularly disrespect and condescend to him, mocking him for his naivety and unrefined manners. Woyzeck is aware of the connection between his poverty and the injustices he endures daily. Indeed, he characterizes suffering as a fundamental trait of an impoverished life. At one point, he muses that the poor will continue to suffer even in the afterlife, tasked with the grueling job of “help[ing] out with the thunder.” Büchner’s play thus presents a cynical but sympathetic portrayal of poverty, emphasizing the inevitable suffering, struggle, and exploitation that shapes the lives of characters living in impoverished conditions and at the margins of society.
Poverty and Suffering ThemeTracker
Poverty and Suffering Quotes in Woyzeck
Yes, Andres, the place is cursed.
What a man. He’s possessed. He didn’t even look at his child. He’ll go mad with thinking.
When the fools talk sense then they fool us all.
Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Observe this creature God has created. A nothing, a mere nothing at all. But see what he has achieved; he walks upright, has a coat and trousers, carries a sword. The monkey is a soldier. Though that’s not saying much, the lowest form of humanity.
DRUM MAJOR. Hold it. Did you see her? What a woman.
SERGEANT. By the devil, you could foal a cavalry regiment out of her.
DRUM MAJOR. And breed Drum Majors.
Our kind have only this one corner in the whole world and a little bit of broken mirror, and yet my lips are as red as any madam’s with her mirrors from floor to ceiling and fine gentlemen to kiss her hand. And I’m just a poor girl.
Aren’t I a bad girl? I could stab myself. What a world. We’re all going to Hell, man and woman.
Slowly, Woyzeck, slowly, one thing at a time. You’re making me dizzy. What am I going to do with the extra ten minutes you save? Imagine, Woyzeck, you’ve got a good thirty years yet to live, thirty years! That’s 360 months. And days, hours, minutes. What are you going to do with all that time? Pace yourself, Woyzeck.
We poor folk – you see, Captain, it’s money, money, when you’ve got none. You can’t set a fellow like me in the world on just morals, a man is flesh and blood as well. The likes of us are unblessed in this world and in the next. I expect when we get to Heaven we’ll have to help out with the thunder.
No, Woyzeck, I’m not getting angry. Angry is unhealthy. It’s unscientific. I’m calm, quite calm. My pulse is its usual 60 and I tell you with the utmost coolness . . . God forbid that we should get angry over a mere human being, a human being.
He runs through the world like an open razor, you could cut yourself on him.
Eh? What do you say? Louder, louder! Stab? Stab the she wolf dead. Stab, stab the she wolf dead. Shall I? Must I? Do I hear it up there too? Is the wind saying it? I can hear it on and on, on and on. Stab her dead, dead!
WOYZECK. I’ve got the shakes, Doctor.
DOCTOR (pleased). Ah, ah, wonderful, Woyzeck!
One thing after another.
Everything is dead. Saviour, saviour! If only I could anoint your feet!
What the Hell do you want? What’s it got to do with you? Out of my way! Or I’ll . . . You think I’ve killed someone. Am I a murderer, eh? What are you staring at? Stare at yourselves. Out of the way!
WOYZECK. The knife, where’s the knife? I put it down somewhere. It will betray me. Closer and closer. What kind of a place is this? What’s that? Something moved. Quiet. Somewhere just here. Marie. Ha. Marie. Still, completely still. Why are you so pale, Marie? Why have you got a red ribbon round your neck? Who have you earned that from with your sins? You were black with sin, black. Was it me made you so pale? What’s your hair so wild for? Haven’t you got it in plaits today? . . . The knife, the knife. Have I got it? Here!
He wades further out.