Terry Teachout is not so much speaking ill of the dead, but rather gives an honest obituary when it comes to Arthur Miller.
Personally, the fact I went to an all-girl Catholic school saved me from much of Miller's work. We never read or presented "A Death of a Salesman" in high school because we didn't have any boys attending our school. Would have been a bit hard to cast, eh? We had enough trouble trying to find a Tevye and three suitors when we presented Fiddler on the Roof. But mainly I believe we were spared Miller not because we were a provincial school in Omaha, but rather because our English Department thought his work was overrated crap. (This is also the same English Department who made us read Macbeth instead of Romeo and Juliet because they didn't want to focus too much on Shakespeare. We spent more time on Chaucer and Beowulf in Brit Lit than we ever did on good ol' Will. Take what you will from that observation.)
So, having never been educated in the "joys" of Arthur Miller, but having heard quite a bit about him and his work, I was a bit surprised one night when I sat down and watched The Crucible. For someone who had been heralded as the playwright of our time, I was a wee bit surprised at how quickly and easily Miller pressed the "mass hysteria" button. It's his play and he was entitled to do whatever he wanted, but it seemed a cheap trick for one who was supposedly so talented. There was untouched ground in that play that could have been much more interesting and insightful, but Miller focused instead on slamming home his message about the dangers of witchhunts.
Ugh.
I came to the conclusion that the English Department at my old high school knew what they were talking about.
Posted by Kathy at February 15, 2005 10:22 AM