Christopher Booker is a scholar who wrote that every story falls into one of seven basic plot structures: Overcoming the Monster, Rags to Riches, the Quest, Voyage and Return, Comedy, Tragedy, and Rebirth. Shmoop explores which of these structures fits this story like Cinderella’s slipper.
Plot Type : Tragedy
Theater of the Absurd intentionally messes with traditional storytelling. Plot, motivation, suspense, resolution—The Zoo Story either dispenses with them or scrambles them so much that they're almost unrecognizable. People like Booker divide stories up into seven different types, and Edward Albee comes along to say, hey, I spit upon your seven different types, and I refuse to tell you about the zoo as well, so there.
Still, if you have to force The Zoo Story into one of Booker's boxes, the box to box it in would probably be Tragedy. Albee wouldn't be happy about it, though.
Anticipation Stage
Jerry sees Peter and wants to talk to him about the zoo. That's what passes for our hero finding a focus. He was sad and lonely, and now there's a guy on the bench to irritate and bore. It's not Hamlet, but it's what Albee's got.
Dream Stage
It's hard to find a dream stage when the whole play reads like a disturbing, unsettling dream. Still, Jerry seems more or less happy with how things are trundling along through his speech about the dog. He gets to babble, Peter seems at least mildly sympathetic. Happiness reigns supreme. Sort of.
Frustration Stage
After the dog speech, Jerry realizes that Peter doesn't understand him after all. They are too separated by class, by circumstance, and by the fact that the play doesn't make much sense (so anyone inside it isn't going to make much sense either).
Nightmare Stage
Things start to go wrong, or, in this case, wronger. Jerry doesn't lose control, exactly, so much as he seizes the wheel of the bench and drives it toward bench destruction. Also, knives. Watch where you point that thing, Peter.
Destruction or Death Wish Stage
This is the one bit that fits perfectly. As Jerry dies, he keeps speechifying, just as if he's in a real tragedy. Admittedly, one dead body up on the stage isn't very impressive by the standards of a real Shakespearian tragedy where the bodies are piled up like Taylor Swift's ex-boyfriends. But on the other hand, Jerry is half of all the people on stage. That's a 50% mortality rate. Did you ever manage that, Shakespeare, even with all your tragic tragedy? Half the people dead? Huh? Did you? Didn't think so.