Wow. Wow wow wow wow wow. I read this to get a picture of the inner workings of a cerebral narcissist.
And it's all there.
-Prodigy writer, put on a pedestal as a child, competition with sibling
-demands constant praise and admiration (narcissistic supply) from wife
-coldness, ignoring his wife at parties while flirting with other women. To Louise: "I don't sleep with other women, but I think I behave as though I do"
-subsumes wife into his own being - Quentin to Louise: "When you've finally become a separate person, what the hell is there?"
-values "social contract" over wife, always takes the side of others (ie Maggie and the cellist)
-gaslighting - telling Louise "Louise, I worry about you all day. And all night." (false compassion)
and, obviously, his intent to institutionalize Maggie
-obsession with power:
"Well that's power isn't it? To influence a girl to change her nose, her life?"
"Not to see one's own evil - there's power! And rightness too! - so kill conscience. Kill it. Know all, admit nothing, shave closely, remember birthdays, open car doors, pursue Louise not with truth but with attention. Be uncertain on your own time, in bed be absolute."
And, ultimately, inability to love. Quentin admits: "That's just it. That I could have brought two women so different to the same accusation - it closed a circle for me. And I wanted to face the worst thing I could imagine - that I could not love. And I wrote it down, like a letter from hell."
The post-war despair, the killing of conscience, beyond good and evil, all bundled up into one man - highlighted superbly and disturbingly with the concentration camp imagery.
Miller's guilt and self-loathing are on full display, but like both Louise and Maggie point out to him, awareness is not enough. He has to want to change his hurtful behavior. He has to want to love.
I knew I would sympathize with Marilyn's character but I found myself identifying immensely with Mary Slattery, too. I thought their marriage fell apart mainly because he cheated with Marilyn (and others, probably) but nope! He narcissistically abused/discarded her, too.
Some quotes from Louise that were so accurate they were scary:
"What is it? The moment I begin to assert myself it seems to threaten you. I don't think you *want* me to be happy."
"I don't intend to be ashamed of myself anymore. I used to think it was normal, or even that you don't see me because I'm not worth seeing. But I think now that you don't really see any woman."
"I demanded nothing for much too long."
"Look, Quentin, you want a woman to provide an atmosphere, in which there are never any issues, and you'll fly around in a constant bath of praise - "
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And some of Maggie's most insightful quotes:
"If I want something you should ask yourself why, why does she want it, not why she shouldn't have it...That's why I don't smile, I feel I'm fighting all the time to make you *see*. You're like a little boy, you don't see the knives people hide."
"When I walked into the party you didn't even put your arms around me. I felt like one of those wives or something!"
Re: wanting Quentin to stand up for her:
"When your mother tells me I'm getting fat, I know where I am. And when you don't do anything about it."
"But what can I do?"
"Slap her down, that's what you do!"
And, on their WEDDING DAY, when he let Elsie flirt with him and promiscuously hug him.
Him: "But what could I do?"
M: "Just tell her to knock it off!"
"you should look at me as if I *existed* or something"
(Louise said something similar, prompting his "letter from hell" quote ^)
Miller's supposed compassion is not backed by actions... "I hate seeing you writhing in pain"...but unwilling/unable to provide the love that would relieve the pain... "I just wish you could find some joy in your life."
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Arthur Miller was a psychopath. Of course he was a genius. Perhaps he tried to love. He was simply incapable of the spectrum of human emotions and compassion. I do believe it took a certain amount of courage to write this play and admit his guilt and despair. His inner dialogue reveals a deeply unhappy man, proving that the blueprint of the narcissistic life does not in fact bring fulfillment. He writes of hope in regards to his final wife. Holga was Quentin's ideal "thick skinned" woman. From what I know about Miller's marriage to Ingeborg, while she seemed to be perfect to him and make him happy, he was still abusive. They had a son with Down Syndrome and Miller refused to see the child, demanding that he be institutionalized against his mother's wishes. How's her thick skin protecting her and her son from this overbearing, eugenicist, destructive, ableist, controlling, judgmental, anti-compassionate man? Apparently Daniel Day Lewis one day convinced the curmudgeonly, ancient Miller to visit his son, but by then it was too late...
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I was expecting, since this is all Miller's perspective, for Mary and Marilyn to be completely gaslighted out of existence in this play, painted as caricature "hysterical women." But no - their dialogue is completely rational and their arguments sound (with the exception of a few drunken rants from Marilyn). Miller just STILL doesn't see his errors fully, and still evidently bewildered as to how he could have ever done better. "This is exactly what I mean, Quentin. You are still defending it. Right now." (Louise)
His introspection is fatalistic, full of guilt, shame, self-loathing - with regards to ALL the relationships in his life, including family. There is a lack of resolution or repentance. Just a sad, defeatist recognition..."that's just how I am" attitude... with the intent to keep plowing forward, probably hurting more people in the future. Searingly insightful, but morally broken.
I agree with the critics that this play was exploitative of both Marilyn and Mary. Placing himself into the narrative of Marilyn's death revealed the deep guilt he felt - that he felt he in fact had killed her - but felt like a theft of very intimate details that no longer belonged to him.
I have to say I'm grateful to Miller for writing this play so honestly. It's more of an explanation than I've ever received from a cerebral narcissist before. It's given me immense perspective and, consequently, validation and sanity.
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"I mean, she's not your rib."
I, too, lived in a false Eden with a false Adam. It was always after the fall.