Virtue and Vice: A Masonic Reading of <i>Death of a Salesman</i>

Arthur Miller once said that Death of a Salesman is a paradoxical story, the efforts of Willy to be a successful father, husband, and man crumbling under the weight of the inherent discontinuity of the American Dream.1 We can tell through the play that he has been hard at work and yet was road weary; he tried to direct his sons in the appropriate course of action but failed; and though ultimately unfaithful, there is a devotion to his wife in word at least. In 1984, we were given a glimpse at an even deeper philosophical symbol to this hypocrisy in a paradoxically small detail and addition in this second revival of this Broadway darling with Dustin Hoffman wearing two small additions to the tired suit and tie.2 Willy is wearing a Freemasonic Square and Compass pin and ring both, a symbol of virtue, morality, and Brotherhood. Any Brother (as Freemasons affectionately regard themselves) watching should immediately note the irony: the emblem, in essence a wholly pure part of Americana, rests on the chest of a man who betrays every principle it represents. This cannot be coincidence. In fact, it becomes a silent mirror, revealing the true Masonic figure in the play: Charley. While Willy walks the wayward path—denying Masonic values at every turn—Charley quietly fulfills them all.This quiet contradiction in Willy’s costume prefigures a broader paradox that shaped the entire production. The 1984 Broadhurst Theatre revival of Death of a Salesman paired the Masonic Symbol with a radically different Willy. At the time of the production, Duston Hoffman was a controversial choice to star, with 17 excellent films to his name, but a reputation of causing issues with production.3 And though he had always desired to play Willy, his stature and demeanor didn’t fit the paternal aspects of the role or even the magnitude and gravitas that Lee Cobb performed as the salesman in the original production. Hoffman was far too energetic, far too small in stature, and not of the age to play a worn-out patriarch near the end of his working life. But, this production was different: Hoffman and Arthur Miller worked so closely that Miller considered Dustin’s portrayal one of the best.4 Perhaps it was through that creative fraternity—between actor and playwright—that the emblem took on deeper resonance, quietly becoming a manifestation of the contradictions embedded in the character.The pin and ring are incredibly small—they would have been barely visible in the Broadway production.5 Ruth Morley, the costume designer, made special note of these two emblems in her production designs of the play, and even acquired the ring herself from a pawn shop. They were worn and are evident in most stills from the play, coming to most attention because of the 1985 film of the same production.6 At this point, Hoffman was so involved in his character that rather than allow the costumes to be bagged, he brought the same costumes to the film production himself. Worn on the lapel of Willy’s overcoat and mirrored in a matching ring, these Masonic symbols mark Loman with an emblem of a moral code he cannot uphold. It may be as false a sign as the American Dream that Willy is so hungry for, a desire to make sure that he has provided a heritage and a legacy for his sons to continue on the great tradition of men before him. And to do so rightly, to be a good father to his sons, a good brother to Ben, to be a good neighbor to Charley.In order to wear these emblems, the implication is that Willy took the vows of a Mason at some point in his life. Freemasonry as a fraternal society moved out of an esoteric trade guild to become one of the first social safety nets providing much needed relief to the orphans and widows of members. It quickly spread from British colonists to the new American patriots and became an integral part of the identity of our country. Membership provided the Brother a mix of social fraternity and stability depending on the individual needs. Today we are at the lowest membership in the past one hundred years, but in 1949—the time Salesman premiered—it was at the near highest peak in membership in the United States. The implications of Willy’s failure as a good embodiment of the American Dream have been well covered, but when Willy is presented against the backdrop of a shared moral code that the Freemasons endeavor, his failure begins to be related into the relational aspect of those around him. To examine what Willy was expected to adhere to, we will take our moral codes and understanding from the Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania’s Exemplar: A Guide to a Mason’s Actions—specifically the charges which are given to men when they join the fraternity at each of the three levels. It is perhaps no irony that we also see Charley three significant times in the play, and in each of these instances we travel along with Willy and his moral journey into their perilous pit.In the first level of Freemasonry, the new initiate swears to the following: “As a Mason, you are charged to be a good man and true . . . to practice charity, maintain secrecy, and act with discretion.”7 And yet, Willy is a liar. He lies to himself, to his wife, to his children, and to Charley—the very man he turns to for charity. Though he is not in a position to offer aid, he also cannot receive it with humility. In their first major interaction, we see the full contrast.8 We have seen a vision of Willy’s infidelity and then he scolds his wife for mending stockings—a cruel symbol of his guilt and a rejection of industry and thrift. He then brags to Happy about his brother Ben’s success while quietly resenting it. Then Charley appears. Described with the Classical Greek term laconic, Charley offers both practical relief and fraternal support. Noticing that Willy is no longer traveling, he offers him a job. Willy lashes out with insults, even going so far as to say, “A man who can’t handle tools is not a man. You’re disgusting.” 9 Still, Charley persists. Only after being accused of cheating does he finally take his leave. Importantly, while Willy is revealed as adulterous, Charley is chaste and honorable. Linda treats him as a confidant, and his behavior toward her is respectful and reserved—a model of Masonic care for a Brother’s wife.At the second level of passing, a Brother is charged as follows: “As you progress in Masonry . . . cultivate your mind and apply yourself diligently to the study of the liberal arts and sciences.”10 Willy displays open contempt for education. He encourages Biff to copy Bernard’s work, ridicules Bernard’s study habits, and promotes sport and charm over discipline. This attitude directly contributes to Biff’s failure in school and his later instability. Charley, by contrast, supports his son’s intellectual growth, and Bernard becomes an accomplished lawyer who argues before the Supreme Court. Ironically, we learn this not through Charley’s boasting, but while Willy—once again—asks him for money. Refusing honest labor and clinging to a job he can no longer perform, Willy declines Charley’s offer of work. Yet Charley continues to give. He still hopes for Willy’s redemption. He wants him to live.Finally, as a Brother raises to a Master Mason at the third level, he is required to do the following: “As a Master Mason, you are charged to walk uprightly before God and man . . . be just, fair, and industrious.”11 Willy fails this charge completely. He believes he and his family are owed success, not because of merit and dedication to work, but because of charisma. He teaches Biff and Happy to value appearance over substance. Near the end of the play, Biff confronts Willy, stating that it was his father’s false teachings about the nature of work and never to accept being under another man that derailed his life. Willy’s own industriousness is questionable: he relies on Charley’s financial support, cheats on his wife, and spends his final days deluded—planting seeds in the dark, far too late. He speaks big dreams but lives small truths. Charley, is a model of steady labor and quiet success. His son excels because Charley teaches him to value work, not perception. In the end, Charley defends Willy’s memory with solemn dignity. He says, “He was a happy man with a patch of cement,”12—a beautiful Masonic metaphor. And he closes with, “Nobody dast blame this man.” Here we see another Masonic reference as it is endeavored to every true Brother to never shame one who is a Brother in Freemasonry.Through this examination, Death of a Salesman emerges not only as a critique of the American Dream, but as a moral parable and paradox. It is a mirror between Brothers. It takes Willy’s failure in relationships to a greater level. It asks, What does it mean to be a father? A friend? A husband? A man? Willy Loman is boastful, broken, and ultimately hollow. Charley is understated, generous, and dignified—a pillar holding more than just the Loman family up and in essence achieving the American Dream in society.When Miller wrote this play, he was focused on character: what makes a salesman, how does this man approach and ultimately find himself in the world? Through the play Willy emerges as a man who had never grown up, who had experienced life as ultimately kind to him, and when it wasn’t he relied on his bluster to make up the difference. The cracks in this approach appeared only later in his life; the wasted opportunity to join his brother though he promised in days past, the unkeeled journeys of his sons whose failure is squarely blamed on Willy’s maladaptive advice, and Linda who supports the scaffolding around the unfaithful partner. But as Charley remarks, how can we dast to blame this man who was given the same line of many other Americans that life would be easy and carefree and that the world is ultimately good natured to their struggle. Death of a Salesman endures not because Willy is a moral exemplar—but because he isn’t. And in Charley, the quiet Brother who neither flaunts his virtue nor shirks his duty, we find not only a contrast, but a guide. Some of us can’t win when we are told a false game like Willy, and even though we attempt to walk the moral path—we fall into the sinkholes of our own bad nature. It is in these paradoxes of Willy, and the costuming choice of this revival, that we are invited to reflect on our own principles—before we find ourselves caught in the same traps.