Death of a Salesman – Thug Notes Summary & Analysis

Sup bruh? This week we chasin dat pap with
Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller.

Crusty old salesman Willy Loman ain’t been
slingin’ sh*t lately. Not only is his family

flat broke, but years in da sales game dun
run his ass down and now his mind be SLIPPIN.

Fool even been in a car accident and his wife
Linda thinkin Willy wanna end it.

And what’s really been rubbin Willy’s
sh*t raw is that his oldest son Biff ain’t

done a damn thing with his life and Willy
don’t know why. To Willy- Biff had it all.

He was high baller back in high school but
these days, he ain’t livin the life Willy

want him to.

Later when Willy start trippin to Biff’s
face bout bein a scrub, Biff all like “stay

chill pops, After I meet with my old playboy
boss, I’m a start my own bidness with my

bro Hap and the world gonna be swingin from
my nuts. You’ll see.”

Next morning, Willy step to his boss to ask
for a lil slack with the travelin. But instead

of hookin’ a brutha up, the boss straight
up FIRES his bitch ass. Sh*t man.

Later, Biff, Willy and Happy hook up fo’
some grubbin. Biff try to tell Willy dat his

interview went bunk, But Willy ain’t even
listenin and starts spillin his guts bout

bein fired. Then Willy flashes back to dat
time in Boston when Biff came a knockin to

see his pops, and we find out why they been
beefin for so long. Turns out, it wasn’t

flunkin math that made Biff stop givin a f*ck
about sh*t. See, when Biff got to Willy’s

hotel room, he find out his dad been gettin
nasty with some chicken head hoochie behind

his mama’s back. Scandalous.

While Willy’s doin all this reminscin, he
heads to the bathroom and start talkin to

himself. Biff and Happy decide to ditch his ass and go party with some hunnies instead.

When they back home, mama gets crunk on errybody’s
ass. After gettin all up in eachother’s

grills, Biff decide he’s leavin for good
and says “Look pa, I’m just some regular

ass dude, just like you. Drop that bullsh*t
dream before it destroys you.” But Willy

only hear what he wanna hear. Thinkin he’s
hookin his boy up, he peep that life insurance

policy, gets up in his hoopty, and takes his
last lonely ride.

Years of pushin product just to end up cashed
out back on the struggle? While all literary

cats agree that sucks a fat one for Willy,
they don’t all agree that it makes him a

tragic hero.

Some think they ain’t nuthin tragic bout
a regular-ass street thug, a LOW-MAN, gettin

dumped on. Cuz that’s just life son. Old-school
scholars say that if you’re of low birth,

it ain’t possible to be a tragic hero, cuz
you ain’t GREAT- ain’t wastin no potential.

But up in the land of the American Dream,
we’re all supposed to be equally great.

If you bust yo ass hard enough, you can get
those briefcases full of big faces, right?

Willy dont just sell goods, he also sell himself.
Dat fake smile he use to hustle homies been

bradnded on his mug so long that the real
Willy ain’t even there no mo.

So in the end, chasin dat dream don’t leave
Willy with everything. It leave him with nothin.

And to this thug, that’s a damn tragedy.

Peep this fine stage direction, son. Before
the play start, we gettin hit in the face

with some contradictions, yo. We hear a flute
laying down some fresh beats that put images

of freedom in yo dome, but on the real, the
visuals showin us Willy’s broke ass house

trapped by big-ass buildings. What our characters
want is freedom, but they trapped in a world

of business, bills and bullsh*t that won’t
let em have it.

But hold up. It ain’t all gotta be depressing,
B. The title Death of a Salesman ain’t just

referring to Willy, but to Biff too.

Some say Biff the hero of this story. Cuz
by the end of the play, Biff ain’t bout

rollin fake and givin it all up in a desperate
grab for success. Naw man. He know that ain’t

the right dream for him.

When Biff is havin it out with
his pops, he say:

The American dream ain’t the only dream
you gotta to have. And just cuz you throwin

that to he curb don’t mean you can’t be
free. Freedom comes from recognizing who you are.

Catch y’all lata. Peace.