Gerald Clifford Weales (1925–2013)

I'd heard this play referenced so many times but still knew almost nothing about it. Well, imagine George Costanza if he wasn't played for laughs and had two kids who idolized him and believed all his bullshit. It'd be the saddest thing in the world. In that sense--the pathetic self-inflicted grinding up of a mediocre man determined to appear great--the fact that when greatness is all you value, all else is ashes, and the only other alternative is cutting off your nose to spite your face--this is true tragedy. It's also, of course, a parable on post-industrial capitalism--we can't build our lives on anything real anymore: it's all smoke and mirrors, networking and marketing. Willy Loman thought there was room for the human subject and human sympathy in the machine. He was a positivist in a decentered, structuralist system. He, and his family, paid the price.


It's just gotten worse, too, you know. They had the "installment plan"--we have "financing", or more likely we just throw everything on our credit cards and pretend like it's already paid for. We are liars within liars, and we'll never be exposed like Loman was--because as long as we're not exposed, but live in fear of it, we can go on consuming, feeding the machine. Capitalism thrives on people who are afraid and have something to prove, and crave the esteem and love of others. Be brave, and love who you are yourself.… (altro)