It occurred to me today that the actual DEATH of Willy is not the only thing the title refers to. I mean, I had known from the beginning that it meant his spirit's death, the cessation of his will to carry on mentally, but I realized that it is also a comment on America's ability to take a vacation.
I mean, we act like energizer bunnies for the majority of the time. Our mentality is that if we work hard enough, we can take a break. But what about taking a break so that we can work hard? It seems to me that Americans have gotten into the habit of running just to catch ourselves. We do so until we burn out. And the whole time, there are people like Willy Loman that just never catch a break, never mind catching themselves.
This will be a short post. As it can all be summed up with a song.
So, thanks Mark Schultz: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXNg6gLumiY
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Death of a Salesman 2/5
Ambiguity is a true marvel. When I read over the assignment for Death of a Salesman, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the only limitations were that my posts come from my thoughts of the plot and characters. No length requirements, no other stipulations other than that it come from me. So, I think thanks are in order.
In any case, what I've decided to post on this time is how I connect with Biff. Bearing in mind, I don't see myself as Happy. Biff and I have a few things in common. The first being that he felt like a favorite. He felt like he was looked to, almost like a last hope for his father. Why is it that fathers of all people seem to want their children to be the All Star they couldn't be? Biff and I have this weight to carry, this expectation from their fathers. It's no wonder he skipped town as soon as it became a viable option.
See, Biff doesn't just feel like the world is on his shoulders. He's got this guilt, too. He knows the tons of expectations that ride on him, but he also knows he can't hold it all. If he leaves town, gives his parents some sort of way to make up their own solutions to the problem, he doesn't have to try to hold it up. He needs to get distance from them, stop trying to fulfill their expectations, so that he can begin to understand what he expects of himself.
It would have been a great solution, if not for the need to be with people who love you. Which is another thing I don't like about Death of a Salesman. It's another thing Arthur Miller got right, no matter how screwed up they are, they're still your family.
The weirdest thing, I think, is that Arthur Miller nailed it from every perspective. He got the struggle of fatherhood and supporting a family that Willy deals (or fails to deal) with. He got Biff's guilt for not being the perfect son. He got their mother's love and worry. He got Hap's need to please their parents, whatever the cost.
And so, since there are no stipulations as to how I write these posts or what's in them, as long as it pertains to Death of a Salesman in some way, I'm giving a list of songs I relate to the story.
Giving Up the Gun - Vampire Weekend (Willy)
Walking on the Sun - Smash Mouth (Willy's salesmanship, his selling out)
Shadow of the Day - Linkin Park (Biff's leave at the end)
Walking Disaster - Sum 41 (Biff's leave and return at the beginning)
Pieces - Sum 41 (Happy and Biff... mostly Happy though)
Where'd You Go - Fort Minor (Their mom.... Linda? I have no idea...)
In any case, what I've decided to post on this time is how I connect with Biff. Bearing in mind, I don't see myself as Happy. Biff and I have a few things in common. The first being that he felt like a favorite. He felt like he was looked to, almost like a last hope for his father. Why is it that fathers of all people seem to want their children to be the All Star they couldn't be? Biff and I have this weight to carry, this expectation from their fathers. It's no wonder he skipped town as soon as it became a viable option.
See, Biff doesn't just feel like the world is on his shoulders. He's got this guilt, too. He knows the tons of expectations that ride on him, but he also knows he can't hold it all. If he leaves town, gives his parents some sort of way to make up their own solutions to the problem, he doesn't have to try to hold it up. He needs to get distance from them, stop trying to fulfill their expectations, so that he can begin to understand what he expects of himself.
It would have been a great solution, if not for the need to be with people who love you. Which is another thing I don't like about Death of a Salesman. It's another thing Arthur Miller got right, no matter how screwed up they are, they're still your family.
The weirdest thing, I think, is that Arthur Miller nailed it from every perspective. He got the struggle of fatherhood and supporting a family that Willy deals (or fails to deal) with. He got Biff's guilt for not being the perfect son. He got their mother's love and worry. He got Hap's need to please their parents, whatever the cost.
And so, since there are no stipulations as to how I write these posts or what's in them, as long as it pertains to Death of a Salesman in some way, I'm giving a list of songs I relate to the story.
Giving Up the Gun - Vampire Weekend (Willy)
Walking on the Sun - Smash Mouth (Willy's salesmanship, his selling out)
Shadow of the Day - Linkin Park (Biff's leave at the end)
Walking Disaster - Sum 41 (Biff's leave and return at the beginning)
Pieces - Sum 41 (Happy and Biff... mostly Happy though)
Where'd You Go - Fort Minor (Their mom.... Linda? I have no idea...)
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Death of a Salesman 1/5
I've already finished reading Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, as its length was nothing to be impressed by. Bearing that in mind, I remember the first thing that I thought upon being introduced to the second most depressing and real character I've ever met inside of a play's script.
Willy Loman managed to, in my first impressions of him, make me wish I was never born. He seems like he'd be a noble soul. He works his life away to provide for his family, that much you can clearly tell. And if you can't, obviously you've never lived with a parent like that. My own mother is much the same to this point in the play. Both real and imaginary parents would sell their very souls if it meant paying the bills on time. That kind of commitment and dedication really makes a person wish they weren't around to bump up the expenses. In fact, I'm sure that's exactly how Biff and Happy feel (though I'll cover that later).
It's that same quality, that noblese oblige, that obligation he has to his family to provide for them, that drives him to work a job he hates for barely enough money. It's that very same quality that drives him insane. He can't handle the pressure of trying to provide for a family. He slaved his life away trying to make ends meet, and the pure weight of the responsibility put on his shoulders alone was enough to erode his sanity until there was nothing left of it.
There's nothing I hate more in this life than having to watch someone you love struggle for you. The second to worst part, I think, is knowing there's nothing you can do about it. The absolute most abhorrent part of it is knowing that they believe, in their heart of hearts, that they are doing the right thing. Let me tell you, right now, I would rather live in a box than watch my mother's sanity slowly slip with each passing day. Willly Loman thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was being what a father ought to be. The problem with that is that sometimes what you ought to be, no matter how much you wish it could be otherwise, is simply not what you are or what you were ever intended to be. Father is not a word that will ever, in my book, describe Willy Loman. Not now or ever in the future despite any interpretation.
He is a man (by man here I mean human in general). Men make mistakes. Men fail. Men gain. Men try. Willy did all of these, just as men do. Willy wasted away, just as men typically do. He can't handle the pressure of being the sole provider for others. Neither can mine.
I think it's pretty safe to say that I despise this play. Though, if it hadn't been so creepily close to my own personal experiences, I don't think I would have understood the point of it at all. Long story short, I wish that Death of a Salesman wasn't as true as it is to today's world. I hope to God I'm not looking into my future.
Willy Loman managed to, in my first impressions of him, make me wish I was never born. He seems like he'd be a noble soul. He works his life away to provide for his family, that much you can clearly tell. And if you can't, obviously you've never lived with a parent like that. My own mother is much the same to this point in the play. Both real and imaginary parents would sell their very souls if it meant paying the bills on time. That kind of commitment and dedication really makes a person wish they weren't around to bump up the expenses. In fact, I'm sure that's exactly how Biff and Happy feel (though I'll cover that later).
It's that same quality, that noblese oblige, that obligation he has to his family to provide for them, that drives him to work a job he hates for barely enough money. It's that very same quality that drives him insane. He can't handle the pressure of trying to provide for a family. He slaved his life away trying to make ends meet, and the pure weight of the responsibility put on his shoulders alone was enough to erode his sanity until there was nothing left of it.
There's nothing I hate more in this life than having to watch someone you love struggle for you. The second to worst part, I think, is knowing there's nothing you can do about it. The absolute most abhorrent part of it is knowing that they believe, in their heart of hearts, that they are doing the right thing. Let me tell you, right now, I would rather live in a box than watch my mother's sanity slowly slip with each passing day. Willly Loman thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was being what a father ought to be. The problem with that is that sometimes what you ought to be, no matter how much you wish it could be otherwise, is simply not what you are or what you were ever intended to be. Father is not a word that will ever, in my book, describe Willy Loman. Not now or ever in the future despite any interpretation.
He is a man (by man here I mean human in general). Men make mistakes. Men fail. Men gain. Men try. Willy did all of these, just as men do. Willy wasted away, just as men typically do. He can't handle the pressure of being the sole provider for others. Neither can mine.
I think it's pretty safe to say that I despise this play. Though, if it hadn't been so creepily close to my own personal experiences, I don't think I would have understood the point of it at all. Long story short, I wish that Death of a Salesman wasn't as true as it is to today's world. I hope to God I'm not looking into my future.
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