The Weekly Standard says that the greatest cautionary tale of misguided faith ending in personal destruction Arthur Miller gave us was his own life story. He was an intellectual and a idealogue, and I usually like that kind of guy, but the way he treated Marilyn Monroe, both before and after her death, proved that the obstacles to a meaningful life came not the society he continuously blamed but his own narcisisism and casual cruelty.
He divorced his college sweetheart to marry the glittering sex goddess. Imagine his dissapointment when it turned out she was just a mortal and couldn't transform him. Like most small human beings who want someone else to save and validate them, he blamed her.
Entertainment Weekly has a typically laudatory piece - saying Miller peaked early in his thirties with Death of a Salesman, and of course nothing ever measured up. It isn't intense, but it's a nice background look.
My opinion: Anyone who divorces his long-time wife to posses a piece of curvy gold is morally compromised, from the beginning. Politicians, writers, artists, military geniuses, accountants, whatever - it is such a casually cruel and selfish thing to do that everything else in their life becomes suspect. I loved Death of a Salesman because of the emotional reaction it induced in me. However, I do not believe that the tragedy of Willy Loman's life was caused by society, but by himself. Willy Loman wasn't a victim - he was an idiot. That's sad and it's frustrating, but it isn't heroic.
[ February 23, 2005, 05:36 PM: Message edited by: Lady Jane ]
Posted by Zalmoxis (Member # 2327) on :
You might find Terry Teachout's piece at OpinionJournal interesting.
Posted by sndrake (Member # 4941) on :
To me, there's worse. But I'll share a submitted letter to the editor from a friend, the father of a great young woman with Down syndrome.
From Michael Bailey:
quote:In his column on the death of Arthur Miller, E.J. Dionne, Jr., writes "And Miller's understanding of human fraility created one of the great ethical imperatives of his work: the demand that respect be offered to other human beings despite their shortcomings."
In 1962 Miller had a son born with Down syndrome. His name is Daniel. He was immediately institutionalized at the Southbery Training School in Connecticut. Miller seldom or never visited his son and did not mention him in his autobiography or ever acknowledge him in anyway. A friend who worked with Daniel during the 1970s describes him as a "funny and sweet kid." He is still there, having been abandoned by his family at birth and deprived of all trappings of a normal life.
I admire Arthur Miller. Human beings are, indeed, complex. As the father of a teenager who has Down syndrome I feel profound sadness not only for the child but for the father. When Miller wrote "All My Sons" it is ashame that he did not, truly, include all of his sons. A genetic aberration in his child was apparently one "shortcoming" that Miller, in spite of his genius, could not abide.
Posted by Lady Jane (Member # 7249) on :
Thanks, Zal. I do like that.
Sndrake, wow. This is the first time I've heard of that - not that I've done extensive research, but I can't believe that none of the five pieces I skimmed over this morning mentioned it. That's horribly sad. It fits in with my opinion of him personally, though. Posted by sndrake (Member # 4941) on :
Lady Jane,
The LA Times mentioned it in its obituary (I don't have the link, which has probably expired):
quote:Miller had another son, Daniel, who was diagnosed with Down syndrome shortly after his birth in 1962. It is not known whether he survives his father because Miller never mentioned him in his autobiography or in any public way. He apparently never visited him at the Connecticut institution where he was sent to live, according to Martin Gottfried, a Miller biographer and longtime New York drama critic.
Posted by Lady Jane (Member # 7249) on :
Thanks. Wow.
I wonder if it ever occurred to him that something was off with his life.
Posted by Synesthesia (Member # 4774) on :
Why did people keep doing that back in those days? Doesn't it just makes things so much more difficult for the person with Down's Syndrome? To just be abandoned like that instead of stimulated?
Posted by Dagonee (Member # 5818) on :
Syn, I don't think they cared. I think they thought, "This kid can never have a 'real' life, so let's just put him somewhere we don't have to think about him." That's if they even considered the question much at all.
[ February 23, 2005, 06:19 PM: Message edited by: Dagonee ]
Posted by sndrake (Member # 4941) on :
Syn and Dag,
While institutionalization was common in 1962, it doesn't explain why Miller insisted on keepin his son in an institution right up to this day - or refuse to even acknowledge his existence.
If I have time later, it's a great opportunity to start singing the praises of Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, though. Posted by Synesthesia (Member # 4774) on :
It's so depressing how they did that... I read in this John Hockenberry book that his grandfather did the same thing to his uncle that had cerebal palsly or something... Utterly sad. How can they have a "real" life inside an institution?
Posted by sndrake (Member # 4941) on :
Here. There are people in the world who can do more than reinforce our cynicism. Arthur Miller handled it his way and Dale Evans handled a similar situation very differently.
Here's another piece, written by another person I'm pleased to call a friend and colleague:
quote:(14 June 2000) -- Almost 50 years ago, I used to watch Roy Rogers and Dale Evans on TV. When I was six, Roy and Dale were the kind of heroes that I needed. I was still learning about the world, and their show made it easy to tell the good guys from the bad ones. What I didn't know back then was that Roy and Dale were also parents of a severely handicapped child. Their daughter Robin had Down syndrome with lots of complications. She only lived a couple of years, but Roy and Dale loved her and did everything they could to keep her alive as long as they could. Dale was one of the first parents to speak out about being the mother of a child with a severe developmental disability, in a time when most parents hid such children. Roy joined her in telling people that Robin had been a wonderful blessing for their family. They were heroes in more ways than one back then, and just like on their show, it was easy to tell who the good guys were.
Now, Father's Day in the year 2000 is here. I'm looking at an old photo of Roy Rogers holding his precious daughter, Robin Elizabeth. The caption reads "Our baby Robin helped show us the true meaning of love and faith." It makes me think about what it means to be a father in the year 2000.
As a father who lost a severely handicapped daughter many years ago and who does the best he can to preserve and protect the life of another one today, I think I recognize the love in his eyes. In my mind, I can still hear Roy and Dale singing "Happy Trails to You" at the end of each show. It was sweet and a little sad when I heard it back then, and now I recognize its deeper meaning for them.
*** Most of the rest of the article deals with things not so inspirational.
Posted by mothertree (Member # 4999) on :
I don't really remember much about either All My Sons or Death of a Salesman even though I saw them both performed on stage. I also read DoaS in English class. I remember how they ended. I just don't remember much. Was he Marilyn Monroe's most recent husband at the time of her death? Because I know that whoever had been married to her didn't come to claim her body for a couple of days and eventually a prior husband- Dimaggio, I think, came to claim it.
Posted by dkw (Member # 3264) on :
quote:Willy Loman wasn't a victim - he was an idiot. That's sad and it's frustrating, but it isn't heroic.
Yep. I got a lousy grade on a paper in college because I had zero sympathy for Willie or Biff. I have more sympathy now, but I still agree with the statement.
I disagree with whoever said Miller peaked with Death of a Salesman, though. Resurrection Blues was fabulous.
[ February 23, 2005, 07:21 PM: Message edited by: dkw ]
Posted by quidscribis (Member # 5124) on :
Death of a Salesman was the only thing by him I ever read. I hated it so much I wasn't going to be bothered by anything else. If that's where his peak was, then he certainly didn't peak very high in my opinion. I agree with other comments that Loman wasn't a hero, he was an idiot. Ick. And why am I not surprised about his other son?
Posted by mothertree (Member # 4999) on :
I do seem to recall something about Loman not being a typical hero. At least my teacher was trying to explain it.
Posted by Puffy Treat (Member # 7210) on :
My teacher made the mistake of pucking up the Dustin Hoffman version of Death of a Salesman to watch when we covered the play in English class.
By the time it was over, we all hated Willie Loman and hated Hoffman even more.
To this day I run into people who are dead set convinced that The Crucible is an actual transcript of the Salem Witch trials...they actually believe every bit of the play is how it 'really' happened, and shout down any genuine historical accounts or research I bring up the conflicts with the play. It's really weird.
Posted by MichelleEly (Member # 6737) on :
Mothertree - He (Miller)was her last husband, but they were already divorced at the time of her death.
Dimaggio was said to have flowers delivered to Monroe's grave very regularly the remainder of his life. I think he love her a lot but a traditional Italian guy back then would not do well married to a sexpot blonde that arguably was the more celebrated one in the couple. Michelle
[ February 23, 2005, 10:19 PM: Message edited by: MichelleEly ]
Posted by Joldo (Member # 6991) on :
What sympathy I have fo Loman is scant and very conditional.
dkw: I wrote a paper on entrapment in Ethan Frome: specifically, how all of it is stupid and self-inflicted. This is my Wharton-phile lit teacher glares at me whenever we pass in the halls.
Posted by TomDavidson (Member # 124) on :
I actually really liked Death of a Salesman. Hm.
Posted by Joldo (Member # 6991) on :
I loved it because the first time I saw it, the cast was phenomenal. But I don't like who they portrayed.
A play really has to be incredible the first time you see it. Fiddler on the Roof, Death of a Salesman, and Phantom of the Opera are central to my subconscious because when I first saw them performed, they were within an inch of perfect (and Fiddler, which was done by a high school cast, actually achieved it).
[ February 23, 2005, 10:14 PM: Message edited by: Joldo ]
Posted by Lady Jane (Member # 7249) on :
Geez, I read that bit you posted, Stephen, and actually teared up at work.
Posted by Zalmoxis (Member # 2327) on :
TomD:
I like it to. And I don't remember if I liked or hated Hoffman's version of Willy Loman.
I do remember that I loved John Malkovich as Biff.
Posted by quidscribis (Member # 5124) on :
John Malkovich as Biff? That would almost make seeing it worthwhile.
Posted by The Silverblue Sun (Member # 1630) on :
Arthur Miller was one of the first writers that really punched me in the gut and showed me the power of the pen.
Willie Lohman was a pre-advertising saturation tale of a crumbling of a Salesman.
It was much like Requiem for a Dream.
The Crucible showed the power of Fear and that the Rulers of the Mob, rule.
![[Frown]](frown.gif)
That's horribly sad. It fits in with my opinion of him personally, though. ![[Smile]](smile.gif)