I've been introducing Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman to some classes lately. I was seventeen when I first read it, for 'A' level Lit, and thought it was pretty darned good. It didn't occur to me then that one day I would be as old as Willy Loman (older, in fact) and see him in a different, closer, light. I've come to see the play as quite a bit better than just darned good. Now I'd suggest brilliantly true - almost unbearably so.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment