Death of a Salesman

I'm not sure why I never read this before; it is a quick read and it really is a masterpiece of literature. I think masterful literature makes the reader look inward and evaluate something in themselves.  "Death of a Salesman" is, at its core, a story about the lies we tell to ourselves and the fictions we turn our lives into. We all do it, I certainly do, and it's chilling to have something like that reflected back at me. On some level I hate that I identify with Biff, but it is unavoidable.

It's strange that I've heard about this play for years and yet never had any real idea what it was about. It's also amazing how relatable the characters are in something that was written in 1949. There's some odd phrasing and archaic attitudes but mostly the writing transcends its era.

I hate and love reading things like this. It's good. It's very good, but now I'm all agitated and rattling around in my head. It's uncomfortable. I probably should just go to bed and let it process overnight.