Burton, Gideon O. "The Canons of Rhetoric." Silva Rhetoricae. Brigham Young U., 26 Feb. 2007. Web. 20 Mar. 2010.
"Characters of The Crucible: Abigail Williams." YouTube, 6 Nov. 2008. Web. 20 Mar. 2010.
Miller, Arthur. The Crucible. New York: Penguin Books, 1982. Print.
Puritanism. City University of New York, 22 Sept. 2002. Web. 22 Mar. 2010.
Tracing Character Development: Hale and Abigail
Reverend Hale
Reverend Hale arrives at Salem as an ambitious intellectual, eager to use his expertise in Salem. However, the hysterical superstition and injustice of the trials disillusion him. When John presents his case and is arrested, Hale denounces the trials and leaves the court. Eventually he returns to Salem, this time trying to sway the convicted to confess so that they will not be hanged. He begs Danforth to pardon the prisoners, but the judge refuses.
Invention: Hale’s enthymeme behind his decision to leave the court
Major Premise: Reason, rather than fear and superstition, should be used in the search for truth.
Minor Premise: Danforth believes Abigail’s frenzied claims over Proctor’s reasoned defense.
Conclusion: The trials are flawed.
Arrangement:
Hale uses a skillfully arranged argument to convince Tituba to confess:
“Take courage, you must give us all their names. How can you bear to see this child suffering? Look at her, Tituba. [. . .] Look at her God-given innocence; her soul is so tender; we must protect her, Tituba; the Devil is out and preying on her like a beast upon the flesh of the pure lamb. God will bless you for your help.” (47)
Relying almost entirely on pathos, Hale nonetheless uses a logical progression to persuade the woman. He begins with a clear statement: Tituba must confess the names of others. He appeals to Betty’s innocence in order to convince Tituba, and he finishes with a promise of God’s blessing for her help.
He retains his oratorical talent to the end of the play, but this time he tries to extract confessions so that people will live, not because he believes they are witches.
Style:
In the beginning, Hale’s style of speech is scholarly to the point of pretension. He wants to prove his expertise, and so uses every opportunity to do so. For example, he says, “We cannot look to superstition in this. The Devil is precise; the marks of his presence are definite as stone [. . .]” (38). He uses jargon, such as when he lists various magical monsters: “incubi and succubi, your witches [. . . and] your wizards [. . .]” (39).
At the end, however, he is stripped of his pride. He makes no pretension of being wise or scholastic. His language is desperate, filled with emotion, such as when he tells Elizabeth, “Woman, before the laws of God we are as swine! We cannot read his will!” (132). His language is filled with metaphor; he “has blood on [his] head” (131) and they are all swine. He has become desperate and emotionally distraught.
Memory: Hale’s use of Salem’s cultural memory.
Those in Salem all know the basic tenets of Christianity and much about the Devil’s ways. Hale capitalizes on what they already know, but also instructs: “We cannot look to superstition in this. The Devil is precise; the marks of his presence are definite as stone [. . .]” (38). He also relies on the memories of others, and their testimony, to apply his own knowledge.
Delivery:
At the beginning of the play, Hale’s idealism is reflected in his way of speaking. Look at the way he describes his books:
“Here is all the invisible world, caught, defined, and calculated. In these books the Devil stands stripped of all his brute disguises. [. . . .] Have no fear—we shall find him [the Devil] out if he has come among us, and I mean to crush him utterly if he has shown his face!” (39)
By the end, however, he has lost faith in the use of reason in Salem. Instead of learning and intellectual investigations, the man desperately pursues the concrete goal of saving those falsely convicted. As the narrator comments, “He is steeped in sorrow, exhausted, and more direct than he ever was” (129). When he meets Danforth in the jail, Hale skips introductions completely and says, “You must pardon them. They will not budge” (129), and when the judge asks why Hale has returned to Salem, Hale cries out, “There is blood on my head! Can you not see the blood on my head!!” (131). His frank speaking reflects his change into a man concerned with the tangible rather than the invisible.
Abigail Williams
Abigail Williams is bitter and frustrated. She resents Elizabeth firing her, and she is embittered by John Proctor ending their affair. Her low status as an unmarried orphan is frustrating, as are comments from those that condemn her for rumors of her affair. Oppressed and angry, she and several others dance in the woods at night while Tituba practices voodoo. When Hale begins his quest for witches, Abigail seizes the opportunity to become the most powerful character in Salem. All she need do is fake a fit, and an individual is sentenced to hanging. She also uses the trials to get Elizabeth convicted. In the end, Abigail steals Parris’ money and runs away; according to legend, she ends up a prostitute.
Invention: Abigail’s warped syllogism
Major premise: If a man sleeps with a woman, he must love her.
Minor premise: John Proctor slept with Abigail.
Conclusion: Proctor loves Abigail.
Obviously, young Abigail is a little confused. Her syllogism is a logical fallacy. Nonetheless, she believes it, demonstrated when she says, “You loved me, John Proctor, and whatever sin it is, you love me yet!” (24).
Arrangement:
Abigail, dependent upon the emotions of her listeners, uses arrangement to dramatize everything she says. In the first act, for example, she combines parallelism and climax to “climb the ladder,” which heightens the emotional hysteria she’s encouraging:
“I want to open myself! [. . .] I want the light of God, I want the sweet love of Jesus! I danced for the Devil; I saw him, I wrote in his book; I go back to Jesus; I kiss His hand. I saw Sarah Good with the Devil! I saw Goody Osburn with the Devil! I saw Bridget Bishop with the Devil!” (48)
Using parallelism throughout her speech, Abigail also builds up to her accusations so that they have maximum impact. Her arrangement of the material begins with her journey away from God, then her return to him, and finally the most important part: the names of witches.
Style:
Abigail, relying almost solely on pathos, relies heavily on style to dramatize her actions. Her language is filled with repetition of various sorts, as the above passage illustrates. (It contains both anaphora and symploce.) She also uses imagery in her speeches in order to bring her “visions” to life for listeners. Mary Warren’s spirit is personified as a bird, for example.
Memory:
Abigail capitalizes on the superstition in Salem’s community to instill fear in them. The common cultural memory has a specific idea of the symptoms of witchcraft, and Abigail draws upon these in her acting. She pretends Mary’s spirit comes to her in the form of a bird, she is chilled by winds no one else feels, and she pretends a witch stabs her with a needle via a poppet. She must have heard stories of similar behavior before; by using them herself, she adds credibility to her claims of witchcraft.
Delivery:
Abigail relies almost entirely on emotion to manipulate the court proceedings. Her delivery is intentionally irregular and confusing, which disturbs witnesses and convinces them of the Devil’s involvement. Her acting is as critical as her words; she shakes, collapses, and points at invisible things. Her speech is punctuated with cries, and she echoes everything Mary says to appear bewitched in the third act. Her power depends on breaking expectations for sane communication.
It is her lack of words that is most informative, however, when she flees Salem at the end of the play.
Reverend Hale arrives at Salem as an ambitious intellectual, eager to use his expertise in Salem. However, the hysterical superstition and injustice of the trials disillusion him. When John presents his case and is arrested, Hale denounces the trials and leaves the court. Eventually he returns to Salem, this time trying to sway the convicted to confess so that they will not be hanged. He begs Danforth to pardon the prisoners, but the judge refuses.
Invention: Hale’s enthymeme behind his decision to leave the court
Major Premise: Reason, rather than fear and superstition, should be used in the search for truth.
Minor Premise: Danforth believes Abigail’s frenzied claims over Proctor’s reasoned defense.
Conclusion: The trials are flawed.
Arrangement:
Hale uses a skillfully arranged argument to convince Tituba to confess:
“Take courage, you must give us all their names. How can you bear to see this child suffering? Look at her, Tituba. [. . .] Look at her God-given innocence; her soul is so tender; we must protect her, Tituba; the Devil is out and preying on her like a beast upon the flesh of the pure lamb. God will bless you for your help.” (47)
Relying almost entirely on pathos, Hale nonetheless uses a logical progression to persuade the woman. He begins with a clear statement: Tituba must confess the names of others. He appeals to Betty’s innocence in order to convince Tituba, and he finishes with a promise of God’s blessing for her help.
He retains his oratorical talent to the end of the play, but this time he tries to extract confessions so that people will live, not because he believes they are witches.
Style:
In the beginning, Hale’s style of speech is scholarly to the point of pretension. He wants to prove his expertise, and so uses every opportunity to do so. For example, he says, “We cannot look to superstition in this. The Devil is precise; the marks of his presence are definite as stone [. . .]” (38). He uses jargon, such as when he lists various magical monsters: “incubi and succubi, your witches [. . . and] your wizards [. . .]” (39).
At the end, however, he is stripped of his pride. He makes no pretension of being wise or scholastic. His language is desperate, filled with emotion, such as when he tells Elizabeth, “Woman, before the laws of God we are as swine! We cannot read his will!” (132). His language is filled with metaphor; he “has blood on [his] head” (131) and they are all swine. He has become desperate and emotionally distraught.
Memory: Hale’s use of Salem’s cultural memory.
Those in Salem all know the basic tenets of Christianity and much about the Devil’s ways. Hale capitalizes on what they already know, but also instructs: “We cannot look to superstition in this. The Devil is precise; the marks of his presence are definite as stone [. . .]” (38). He also relies on the memories of others, and their testimony, to apply his own knowledge.
Delivery:
At the beginning of the play, Hale’s idealism is reflected in his way of speaking. Look at the way he describes his books:
“Here is all the invisible world, caught, defined, and calculated. In these books the Devil stands stripped of all his brute disguises. [. . . .] Have no fear—we shall find him [the Devil] out if he has come among us, and I mean to crush him utterly if he has shown his face!” (39)
By the end, however, he has lost faith in the use of reason in Salem. Instead of learning and intellectual investigations, the man desperately pursues the concrete goal of saving those falsely convicted. As the narrator comments, “He is steeped in sorrow, exhausted, and more direct than he ever was” (129). When he meets Danforth in the jail, Hale skips introductions completely and says, “You must pardon them. They will not budge” (129), and when the judge asks why Hale has returned to Salem, Hale cries out, “There is blood on my head! Can you not see the blood on my head!!” (131). His frank speaking reflects his change into a man concerned with the tangible rather than the invisible.
Abigail Williams
Abigail Williams is bitter and frustrated. She resents Elizabeth firing her, and she is embittered by John Proctor ending their affair. Her low status as an unmarried orphan is frustrating, as are comments from those that condemn her for rumors of her affair. Oppressed and angry, she and several others dance in the woods at night while Tituba practices voodoo. When Hale begins his quest for witches, Abigail seizes the opportunity to become the most powerful character in Salem. All she need do is fake a fit, and an individual is sentenced to hanging. She also uses the trials to get Elizabeth convicted. In the end, Abigail steals Parris’ money and runs away; according to legend, she ends up a prostitute.
Invention: Abigail’s warped syllogism
Major premise: If a man sleeps with a woman, he must love her.
Minor premise: John Proctor slept with Abigail.
Conclusion: Proctor loves Abigail.
Obviously, young Abigail is a little confused. Her syllogism is a logical fallacy. Nonetheless, she believes it, demonstrated when she says, “You loved me, John Proctor, and whatever sin it is, you love me yet!” (24).
Arrangement:
Abigail, dependent upon the emotions of her listeners, uses arrangement to dramatize everything she says. In the first act, for example, she combines parallelism and climax to “climb the ladder,” which heightens the emotional hysteria she’s encouraging:
“I want to open myself! [. . .] I want the light of God, I want the sweet love of Jesus! I danced for the Devil; I saw him, I wrote in his book; I go back to Jesus; I kiss His hand. I saw Sarah Good with the Devil! I saw Goody Osburn with the Devil! I saw Bridget Bishop with the Devil!” (48)
Using parallelism throughout her speech, Abigail also builds up to her accusations so that they have maximum impact. Her arrangement of the material begins with her journey away from God, then her return to him, and finally the most important part: the names of witches.
Style:
Abigail, relying almost solely on pathos, relies heavily on style to dramatize her actions. Her language is filled with repetition of various sorts, as the above passage illustrates. (It contains both anaphora and symploce.) She also uses imagery in her speeches in order to bring her “visions” to life for listeners. Mary Warren’s spirit is personified as a bird, for example.
Memory:
Abigail capitalizes on the superstition in Salem’s community to instill fear in them. The common cultural memory has a specific idea of the symptoms of witchcraft, and Abigail draws upon these in her acting. She pretends Mary’s spirit comes to her in the form of a bird, she is chilled by winds no one else feels, and she pretends a witch stabs her with a needle via a poppet. She must have heard stories of similar behavior before; by using them herself, she adds credibility to her claims of witchcraft.
Delivery:
Abigail relies almost entirely on emotion to manipulate the court proceedings. Her delivery is intentionally irregular and confusing, which disturbs witnesses and convinces them of the Devil’s involvement. Her acting is as critical as her words; she shakes, collapses, and points at invisible things. Her speech is punctuated with cries, and she echoes everything Mary says to appear bewitched in the third act. Her power depends on breaking expectations for sane communication.
It is her lack of words that is most informative, however, when she flees Salem at the end of the play.
What Is a Crucible, Anyway?
A crucible is a container in which substances can be heated to extremely high temperatures. It is commonly used to burn away impurities, and comes with a loosely-fitting cap to let out steam.
Hale says the witch trials are conducted to "cleanse our village" (46), and Danforth declares that citizens "no longer live in the dusky afternoon when evil mixed itself with the good and befuddled the world" (94). The witch trials are an attempt to purge Salem of the impure, much like a crucible burns away impurities to leave a valuable metal or compound.
In the process of the trials, however, a different clarity emerges: realization of the hypocrisy, hysteria, and suspicion running rampant. As Abigail tells Proctor in the deleted scene from act two, "It were a fire you walked me through, and all my ignorance was burned away [. . . .] and I will scrub the world clean for the love of Him!" (150). Hale, Proctor, and many others see the fear of witchcraft for what it really is: an opportunity for the greedy and a sensation for the rest.
The intense heat and pressure associated with a crucible suggest the test of integrity the main characters face. Proctor emerges clean, having upheld his name and protected the integrity of the others. Many, however, are internally disgraced; Putnam, Abigail, and Parris are among them.
The fire may also refer to the burnings of witches in Europe, though the method of execution in Salem was hanging.
Hale says the witch trials are conducted to "cleanse our village" (46), and Danforth declares that citizens "no longer live in the dusky afternoon when evil mixed itself with the good and befuddled the world" (94). The witch trials are an attempt to purge Salem of the impure, much like a crucible burns away impurities to leave a valuable metal or compound.
In the process of the trials, however, a different clarity emerges: realization of the hypocrisy, hysteria, and suspicion running rampant. As Abigail tells Proctor in the deleted scene from act two, "It were a fire you walked me through, and all my ignorance was burned away [. . . .] and I will scrub the world clean for the love of Him!" (150). Hale, Proctor, and many others see the fear of witchcraft for what it really is: an opportunity for the greedy and a sensation for the rest.
The intense heat and pressure associated with a crucible suggest the test of integrity the main characters face. Proctor emerges clean, having upheld his name and protected the integrity of the others. Many, however, are internally disgraced; Putnam, Abigail, and Parris are among them.
The fire may also refer to the burnings of witches in Europe, though the method of execution in Salem was hanging.
Summary of the Play
The play opens in the house of Reverend Parris. His young daughter, Betty, won't wake from a stupor. Parris found her last night in the woods along with Abigail, his ward; Tituba, his slave; and a couple other girls. Abigail says they were only dancing, but already the town is whispering that Betty has been bewitched. Parris is afraid such a scandal will drive him from his pulpit, so he sends for Reverend John Hale, an expert on witchcraft. While Parris calms the town and waits for Hale's arrival, John Proctor, a successful farmer, enters and speaks with Abigail alone. Unbeknownst to the town, while Abigail worked as a servant in his home, the two had an affair. When Elizabeth, John’s wife, found out, she dismissed Abigail. Proctor firmly states the matter is closed, but Abigail is still desperate for his love and bitter towards his wife.
Hale arrives and questions the girls. Growing suspicious, he interrogates Tituba, who finally confesses to calling up the Devil. Promised forgiveness, she frantically names people she saw consorting with the Devil. Betty and Abigail join in, whipping up hysteria as a shocking number of people are accused of devilry.
John and Elizabeth Proctor discuss the resulting trials one week later. Abigail and her friends act as a sort of test; if they have spasms or fits in the presence of the accused, then that person is guilty of consorting with the Devil. Elizabeth tells John he should denounce Abigail as a fraud; when he refuses, she accuses him of still loving the girl. In reality, he is afraid Abigail will reveal their affair and ruin his good name. Mary Warren, their servant, has been helping Abigail in the court and returns home. Hale arrives to question the Proctors, shortly followed by Herrick and deputies, who have court orders to arrest Elizabeth. Once she has been taken away, John demands that Mary reveal Abigail's scheme, and the next morning he, Mary, and others interrupt the court proceedings to stop the madness. Unfortunately, things backfire: Abigail and her posse act as if Mary has bewitched them, and when John confesses to his affair in hopes of ruining Abigail, Elizabeth is questioned and denies it. John is denounced as a liar and arrested. Hale, now disillusioned, leaves the court.
Three months pass. Abigail runs away, taking Parris' money with her. Neighboring towns grow restless under the oppression. Convinced the trials are unjust, Hale is trying to convince the convicted to falsely confess so that they will live. Danforth goes to the prison and— hoping she will talk John into confessing—brings Elizabeth to John. They talk, and though he has reservations, John agrees to confess. He will not say the others are guilty, however, and he tears up the confession when told it will be made public. Having redeemed himself for his sins by upholding his name and the others' integrity, Proctor willingly walks to the gallows.
Hale arrives and questions the girls. Growing suspicious, he interrogates Tituba, who finally confesses to calling up the Devil. Promised forgiveness, she frantically names people she saw consorting with the Devil. Betty and Abigail join in, whipping up hysteria as a shocking number of people are accused of devilry.
John and Elizabeth Proctor discuss the resulting trials one week later. Abigail and her friends act as a sort of test; if they have spasms or fits in the presence of the accused, then that person is guilty of consorting with the Devil. Elizabeth tells John he should denounce Abigail as a fraud; when he refuses, she accuses him of still loving the girl. In reality, he is afraid Abigail will reveal their affair and ruin his good name. Mary Warren, their servant, has been helping Abigail in the court and returns home. Hale arrives to question the Proctors, shortly followed by Herrick and deputies, who have court orders to arrest Elizabeth. Once she has been taken away, John demands that Mary reveal Abigail's scheme, and the next morning he, Mary, and others interrupt the court proceedings to stop the madness. Unfortunately, things backfire: Abigail and her posse act as if Mary has bewitched them, and when John confesses to his affair in hopes of ruining Abigail, Elizabeth is questioned and denies it. John is denounced as a liar and arrested. Hale, now disillusioned, leaves the court.
Three months pass. Abigail runs away, taking Parris' money with her. Neighboring towns grow restless under the oppression. Convinced the trials are unjust, Hale is trying to convince the convicted to falsely confess so that they will live. Danforth goes to the prison and— hoping she will talk John into confessing—brings Elizabeth to John. They talk, and though he has reservations, John agrees to confess. He will not say the others are guilty, however, and he tears up the confession when told it will be made public. Having redeemed himself for his sins by upholding his name and the others' integrity, Proctor willingly walks to the gallows.
The Tenets of Puritanism
At the core of Puritanism was providence, the idea that God actively governed the entire universe. He controlled everything and made choices to achieve His righteous ends. This extended to man and his free will. Obviously this raised a dilemma: If God governed everything, why did men sin? God did not approve of sinning, but He did not always restrain it. He essentially gave men permission to sin. Perhaps there were higher reasons or forces at work.
Puritans were eager to know God's will. Since He was present in everything to them, they took notice of everything from natural phenomena to personal thoughts, then tried to interpret the signs.
Stemming from providence was predestination, the belief that God already knew who was going to Heaven or Hell. An individual's fate was predetermined; his actions could not change his fate. Acceptance to Heaven was known as regeneration, while the damned experienced reprobation. The argument for this belief was that a mere human could not influence God's will; claiming so was heretical.
Consequently, Puritans were desperate to root out the "chosen" from the damned. Any sin, any misdemeanor, could be a sign of a person's impurity. The notorious strictness of Puritan culture arose from this search; individuals constantly regulated their thoughts and actions, hoping they were one of those God had chosen. Frivolity was indulgent, and it took time away from the holy duty of vocation. Vocation reasoned that, since God gave individuals talents, they were expected to use them to the best of their abilities.
Puritans also had the right to know about the lives of other community members, since it was their duty to purge their Godly community of those slated for Hell.
Also central to the Puritan belief were the many covenants made between God and man. The Covenant of Grace was God's promise to make the elect believe in Christianity. Without the touch of the Holy Spirit, man would continue his sinful ways. (This idea that humans were by nature corrupt was called natural depravity, a result of Adam's original sin.) Once graced, however, men could repent and hopefully be chosen for entry to Heaven.
Clearly, the Puritans believed magic to be the Devil's power; witches sold their souls to the Devil and received magical skills in return.
Puritans were eager to know God's will. Since He was present in everything to them, they took notice of everything from natural phenomena to personal thoughts, then tried to interpret the signs.
Stemming from providence was predestination, the belief that God already knew who was going to Heaven or Hell. An individual's fate was predetermined; his actions could not change his fate. Acceptance to Heaven was known as regeneration, while the damned experienced reprobation. The argument for this belief was that a mere human could not influence God's will; claiming so was heretical.
Consequently, Puritans were desperate to root out the "chosen" from the damned. Any sin, any misdemeanor, could be a sign of a person's impurity. The notorious strictness of Puritan culture arose from this search; individuals constantly regulated their thoughts and actions, hoping they were one of those God had chosen. Frivolity was indulgent, and it took time away from the holy duty of vocation. Vocation reasoned that, since God gave individuals talents, they were expected to use them to the best of their abilities.
Puritans also had the right to know about the lives of other community members, since it was their duty to purge their Godly community of those slated for Hell.
Also central to the Puritan belief were the many covenants made between God and man. The Covenant of Grace was God's promise to make the elect believe in Christianity. Without the touch of the Holy Spirit, man would continue his sinful ways. (This idea that humans were by nature corrupt was called natural depravity, a result of Adam's original sin.) Once graced, however, men could repent and hopefully be chosen for entry to Heaven.
Clearly, the Puritans believed magic to be the Devil's power; witches sold their souls to the Devil and received magical skills in return.
Quotes Referring to Salem and/or the McCarthy Era
1. Intolerance
“[. . . In] America any man who is not reactionary in his views is open to charge of alliance with the Red hell” (34).
The narrator makes this comment in the first act while explaining the theocratic nature of Salem's society. Like in Salem, where heresy was punishable by banishment or death, lack of ardent patriotism in America immediately aroused suspicion of communism. When people were being accused with no evidence to back the claim, even the slightest show of discontent was a risk. Here, Miller comments on this situation, pointing out that fear spawns intolerance.
2. Self-preservation perpetrating panic
HALL. You [Tituba] must give us all their names (47).
ELIZABETH. The Deputy Governor promise hangin' if they'll not confess, John. The town's gone wild, I think (52).
Both quotes illustrate the real motivations behind the continued hysteria in The Crucible. Desperate to prove their own goodness, Tituba and others give the names of "witches" and "devil-worshippers." That the accusations are completely unfounded is irrelevant; it seems the entire colony is infiltrated with the Devil's agents, which only increases the population's panic. The second quote, spoken by Elizabeth, explains why many confess to witchcraft: if they repent their sins, at least they will live.
The language suggests the McCarthy period as much as the historical witch hunts; giving names was often a requirement for proving that the accused was no longer a communist sympathizer. Many were threatened with jail if they did name other conspirators; naturally many gave completely innocent names to save their own skins.
3. Power
ELIZABETH. She [the town] speak of Abigail, and I thought she were a saint, to hear her. Abigail bring the other girls into the court, and where she walks the crowd will part like the sea for Israel. And folks are brought before them, and [. . .] clapped in the jail for bewitchin' them (53).
In the play, part of Abigail's motivation stems from her frustration as a member of the lowest social class. She is an orphan and a young, unmarried woman. She briefly worked as a servant but was fired; she claims Elizabeth wanted to treat her like a slave. Now, suddenly, she literally has the power of life or death over the town. She need only fake a fit, and the person being question is declared guilty. This want of power, some historians believe, is what motivated the real girls in the witch trials, and this thirst for power is paralleled in McCarthy's demagogy.
4. Martyrdom
PROCTOR. They think to go like saints. I like not to spoil their names (141).
In the historical Salem, nineteen people were executed as a result of the witch trials. If they were given the option of confession, why did they die? As Proctor points out, refusing to succumb to the threats and scares gave the convicted a sense of pride. They would not falsely confess, even if it meant death, because they personally knew they would go to Heaven. As martyrs, the accused felt they rose above the court's injustice. The girls would surely burn for their lies, but the convicted could claim honesty.
Compare and Contrast: Salem and McCarthyism
It is debatable how conscious Miller’s intentions were in writing a story allegorical to the communist scare. He clearly denounces the hysteria, righteousness, and injustice fear can spark, but the critical differences suggest his priority was in writing an entertaining story rather than a pure political commentary.
Similarities:
• The court of Salem is like the House of Un-American Activities Committee, claiming it is its righteous duty to administer justice based on spirituality (or, in America, political morality).
• The hysteria and suspicion surrounding the climbing numbers of accused reflect McCarthyism's fear.
• McCarthy and Parris use fear to their advantage: McCarthy gains political power, and Parris attempts to bring the discontented Salem back under his control.
• Personal rivalries and self-preservation are more influential in Salem’s trials than any pretense of justice; the false confessions made during McCarthy's time are similar.
• While the The Crucible was running, its audience held a moment of silence for Ethel and Julius Rosenburg, both executed under suspicion of spying for the Soviet Union. Those executed were seen as martyrs in both the play and in the communist scare.
• Miller's refusal to give names is paralleled in Proctor's character as an act of good. More generally, the pressure to accuse others to save oneself is present in both the play and in McCarthy’s time.
Differences:
• The pivotal conflict in the play is Abigail William's continued longing for John Proctor, who has terminated their affair. It is her jealously and lust, as well as Proctor's fear to confess, that drives the story. There is no such parallel in the McCarthy trials.
• There really were spies for the Soviet Union, and there really were communist sympathizers, but Salem's witchcraft is not real.
• Part of Abigail's motivation to encourage panic stems from her frustration as a member of the lowest social class, but historically, the initial communist followers were of the lower class.
Similarities:
• The court of Salem is like the House of Un-American Activities Committee, claiming it is its righteous duty to administer justice based on spirituality (or, in America, political morality).
• The hysteria and suspicion surrounding the climbing numbers of accused reflect McCarthyism's fear.
• McCarthy and Parris use fear to their advantage: McCarthy gains political power, and Parris attempts to bring the discontented Salem back under his control.
• Personal rivalries and self-preservation are more influential in Salem’s trials than any pretense of justice; the false confessions made during McCarthy's time are similar.
• While the The Crucible was running, its audience held a moment of silence for Ethel and Julius Rosenburg, both executed under suspicion of spying for the Soviet Union. Those executed were seen as martyrs in both the play and in the communist scare.
• Miller's refusal to give names is paralleled in Proctor's character as an act of good. More generally, the pressure to accuse others to save oneself is present in both the play and in McCarthy’s time.
Differences:
• The pivotal conflict in the play is Abigail William's continued longing for John Proctor, who has terminated their affair. It is her jealously and lust, as well as Proctor's fear to confess, that drives the story. There is no such parallel in the McCarthy trials.
• There really were spies for the Soviet Union, and there really were communist sympathizers, but Salem's witchcraft is not real.
• Part of Abigail's motivation to encourage panic stems from her frustration as a member of the lowest social class, but historically, the initial communist followers were of the lower class.
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