My Father’s Dream and My Reality Told by Biff Loman The bond between a boy and his father is one that should sustain the test of time. I have looked up to my father for the majority of my life and he’s beliefs of life have influenced the way I grew up to be the man I am today. However in the end, a true man will follow his own dreams and make his own future. My dream was working with my hands in the outdoors. It has taken many years but I now knew that was what I wanted to do with my life. My father, Willy Loman, I believe shared this same passion, however, he suppressed his dreams as it did not fit in with is predetermined mould for a beloved salesman.
So, it then became my father’s dream to work in sales and be well-liked. This is what my father had implanted into me from a young age. Now returning home after fourteen years of trying to ‘find myself’, we still had money to pay off on the refrigerator and the mortgage on the house still needed to be paid. These pending debts, like daggers ripping through my dreams, forced me suppress my own dreams and now seek the stable career of a salesman. I had once worked as a salesman for Bill Oliver so I decided to go to him in order to find a job. Bill Oliver’s office was finely furnished and had a wafting smell of cologne.
The waiting room walls seemed to tower down upon me somehow mocking me. As with each hour that went by the walls seem to become larger and I become smaller. Sitting in that room waiting hour after hour for Bill Oliver made me think about why I was there and what I was doing. After much deliberation I concluded; I was never a salesman for him, I was just a shipping clerk.
The Term Paper on Themes In a Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
One dreams, through the use of imagination, of what will become of them as life progresses. In some cases that person lives passionately with desires of self fulfillment, eventually reaching their goals in an ever so content way. At other times one remains lost, underappreciated, and ultimately carries with them a perilous, loathing attitude. Willy Loman drives his life to the point of no return ...
I had talked my self up so much that I had turned my dishonesty to what I believed to be true. I had blurred the line between illusion and reality foolishly thinking everyone else would follow. I questioned myself why this was so. The answer to my question lied somewhere in the foundations of my past. Throughout my life I have been filled with great ideas and aspirations but nothing has ever become of them.
I am a failure. I can now say this is the harsh truth of my life. My father wanted great things to happen but did not work for them. Bernard, my high school companion and next-door neighbour, worked hard during his life and he is now far more successful than us Loman.
In the past dad insisted he would never make it as he was liked but not well liked. He reassured me that I was and that was what I needed to be successful. It is now undeniable to me that this in not the case. The night of my father’s death is when this revelation become apparent.
I had now realised we had been living this word of denial and dishonesty for too long and Willy needed to do the same. Once I started talking about our lives the truth about everything all came pouring out. Still, Willy can’t – won’t – grasp what I was saying. He still believed I do everything out of spite, maybe because he did not want to face the fact that his favourite son who was once the star football player was now a floundering failure.
That was the problem instead of facing facts we make up an excuse and keep living in our own little ‘Loman world’. Many things were said across the kitchen table that night. You could have sliced through the tension in the room like a knife through hot butter. My father’s last night on this earth produced a new light to our family.
We had come out of the dark and were ready to start anew. Conversely, it all ended that night for my father. Willy still somehow failed to see my faults and maintained his hopes and aspirations for me, believing I could still be a great success. With this delusional concept in his head he sacrificed his own life so I would benefit from his life insurance, the only means of providing he thought to be left. Not one of his clients came to the funeral, not one.
The Essay on Willy Loman Existentialist?
Can anyone control their life? Is the power of control in human beings’ hands to make choices and set or know the exact outcome of those choices? Personally, I don’t believe that human beings are awarded with such a power as to be able to change any aspect of their lives. The purpose of my essay is to focus on the life of Willy Loman, a protagonist in a play called Death of a Salesman ...
If Willy Loman was well liked then why did only his family attend his funeral? Being well liked is not a major concern for me any longer it is my hard work which should determine my success rather than this imagination of being well liked. This may be the end of Willy Loman but it is just the beginning for Biff Loman. I am now on the verge of finally figuring out my destiny. In the past I may not have shown the greatest care for my pop and I do not agree with everything he has done. Nevertheless, he was my father and he was an adequate provider to our family. My father was a respectable man but had all the wrong dreams.
He got caught up with the ideas of success and fortunes set in this ‘American way of life’ that he never stopped to think about the journey he had taken to try get there. With this in mind, I urge all young men out there to take heed and learn from my mistakes. Listen to your father; his advice is timeless in this world. However, ultimately you must follow your heart and work towards making your dreams a reality.
Your life will be what you make of it.
