Oh, how awful
. To dream so big, it's just...man, the general mood of this story kills (literally). Most people have probably walked out after the play feeling terrible and cheated. Damn, now I want to see it and feel that way. This isn't a horrible book. In fact, it's a realistic eye-opening view at a poor man's life. This is most likely a story of someone else's life and small bits of it apply to countless people living today. Even though there's a death at the end, the salesman doesn't wring any sympathy from the readers. Only his family mourn but barely because half of them are numb in the wake of this tragedy. In the pages winding up towards the death, there was no sense of dread or premonition but it wasn't sudden either. We see loud examples of the craziness and delusions of grandeur interspersed freely between the pages. A psychologically crazed man is hardly someone a reader can relate to or even remotely like and even worse, the rest of the cast barely measure up. I did feel a faint pity for the whole family who has been beaten, worn-down, and embittered by life. Well, judging from the lot of talk and arguments, they weren't silenced though, no, not by far. I liked that author had a knack for word arrangement and semantics because I could vividly imagine how the actors would utter it. Despite all the low ratings, this book delivers in all parts that make this brutally realistic and all the more intense. This unflinching slice of life deviates from the standard fairy tale quality of a story. In other words, Death of a Salesman might just as well be a non-fiction considering the lifelike appeals of all the characters and the palpable anger and 'spite' brimming on the surface.