Good or bad? – A literary analysis of Arthur Miller "The crucible"

In “The Crucible,” Arthur Miller portrays two women whose characters, when juxtaposed, seem to be in stark contrast to each other. Although the exact words are not used, one woman is basically presented in the story as “good” and the other as “bad.” Such black and white decisions by these characters would be ironic, considering that Arthur Miller wrote his work to expose the dangers of judging people with different mindsets or belief systems. Miller described such illogical reasoning as dangerous or at least counterproductive.

By exploring the characters and motifs of the two main women, Abigail Williams and Elizabeth Proctor, a rough microcosm appears that resembles the message of the story as a whole. The reader begins to recognize that there is more at stake than a superficial interpretation of “good” versus “bad.”

Abigail Williams, the “bad” girl, is featured in the play as the ringleader who led other girls to a taboo gathering; his main purpose was to cast a spell on Elizabeth Proctor, John Proctor’s wife, with whom he had an affair when he lived with them as a servant. Clearly, what for John was a small detour from the path of morality was for Abigail the door to a new world. Abigail was confused and her reasoning was illogical, but that was no different from the logically deteriorated outlook of many in the city of Salem, even the most powerful and well-educated. Abigail’s reasoning that if Elizabeth died she would get John fitted well with the illogical perspectives of many characters in the play. His motives were, in a morally safe world, wrong; yet they were so well hidden that few saw through their guise of persecuted innocence.

If Abigail’s reasoning was illogical and her motives impure, her methods definitely tipped the balance against her character. She was willing to allow numerous innocent people to be charged and die. In many cases, he sat in the accuser’s seat. Having the story written as a novel might have been helpful at this point, because the only glimpse of Abigail’s point of view is the argument she had with John Proctor, which for a time was cut from history by Arthur Miller.

In that conversation, the young woman seemed completely convinced of the justice of their cause, as well as enraptured by her fantasy that she would have John once his wife died: “God gave me the strength to call you liars … Oh, John, I will turn you into such a wife when the world is white again “(150). Maybe Abigail was really delusional, or maybe she was very good at playing the role, even for John Proctor. It’s almost that, in that moment, he had come so far that whether he believed his lie or was deliberately faking it all the time, he knew it would be suicide to stop there.

At the end of the story, the “evil” woman escaped, flawless in the eyes of many, into the night, having stolen her uncle’s money to get her out of the volatile situation. Here again the reasoning of the men in power can be questioned. If the main accuser had left, having stolen money, which in those days must have been a more tangible crime than sending the spirit of one to hurt another in the night, wouldn’t it be logical to think that perhaps his testimony should be questioned? However, such an idea never arose and the men who had their lives under the control of their judgment continued on their unconscious path towards the imposition of false sentences and, ultimately, murder.

Elizabeth Proctor, on the other hand, was the “good” woman. He entered the story fully in the first scene of the second act, an awkward scene to read. The unnatural speech between husband and wife looks like a layer of egg skin stretched thinly over a wound. When John Proctor exploded towards the end of his dialogue, his words acted like a crack in that taut cover, but Elizabeth simply handed him the power of judgment, saying, “I do not judge you. The magistrate sits in your heart judging you. I never thought of you but a good man. ”(55) This heated exchange brings to light the problems that arose beneath the surface in their marriage, which are not fully manifested until the end of the play.

The clearest insight into Elizabeth’s mind and heart comes from a conversation that took place at her last meeting between her and John: “I have read my heart these three months, John. I have my own sins to tell. A wife is needed. cold “. to incite lust … I told myself so simply, so badly done, no honest love could reach me! Suspicion kissed you when I did it; I never knew how to say my love It was a cold house that he kept “(137).

Here, Elizabeth’s heart was exposed in a way that no other character’s was, and the deeper reason for why they had a strained marriage is shown. Elizabeth always considered herself inferior, unlovable. One can only imagine the world of his younger years, possibly one child among many, forgotten and overlooked, most likely harshly tried for minor offenses. One shows little joy in such a community and a one-sided approach to Christianity, which was an Old Testament form of legalism without the promise of love and forgiveness. Not once in history were concepts like abiding joy, abundant life, or forgiving love mentioned. It was all judgment and harsh judgments, the same element that Jesus questioned when he exposed the motives of the religious class of his time, the Pharisees.

Elizabeth’s character represented, in a way, all those who grew up under the control of distorted belief systems. Her perspective and existence were the product of that education, although she probably did not understand it herself. In this sense, Elizabeth’s character was not very different from Abigail’s. Raised with little love and little true understanding of the world around them, these women’s only survival was in their obedience to rules that in many cases were neither logical nor biblical. Both women were haunted by fear: Elizabeth by the fear of not being loved and could never truly be loved for what she was; Abigail, for fear that if she did not take matters into her own hands, her life would be spent alone and unhappy.

In the end, Elizabeth discovered that they really did love her. Perhaps it was too little and too late, but her husband loved her. Her husband was willing to lay down his life, perhaps not exactly or completely for her, but in a way his act represented that selfless love. John Proctor’s love for his wife gave him the strength to confess his deeds to Abigail, and although it put him in a bad position and brought him death, he preferred to die for the love of his wife than live without her. One analysis states that “Elizabeth’s noblest act comes to an end when she helps the tortured John Proctor to forgive himself just before his death” (Shmoop).

History reveals that Elizabeth Proctor, although charged, was not convicted. If Arthur Miller was accurate in his portrayal of his character, one can only hope that his life was transformed by the fact that he found out that he was loved. Perhaps she did not feel so simple and did not act so suspicious, because true love transforms the heart in ways that cannot be explained but only experienced. Abigail, on the other hand, escaped the situation, running from her fear in the end. One can only assume that he followed her to the end of her days. His story was not one of “happily ever after” as he never faced the things he feared most.

The “good” woman and the “bad” woman were both products of his upbringing. Still, they had the power to choose whether this would determine their decisions or whether they would rise up and take the hardest path of truth, acceptance, even of their own deepest fears, and love. One is not surprised, considering the actions of these two women throughout history, by the decisions they made in the end. There was no character arc for Abigail, but there was for Elizabeth, who came to understand love and forgiveness in a way she never had. Presumably, hopefully, he freed her to really live.

Cited works

Miller, Arthur. The Crucible: Screenplay. New York: Penguin, 1996. Print.

Shmoop Editorial Team. “Elizabeth Proctor in The Crucible”. Shmoop.com. Shmoop University, Inc., November 11, 2008. Web. March 17, 2014.

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