One of the first assignments I received in my 11th grade English class was to read Arthur… One of the first assignments I received in my 11th grade English class was to read Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible.” I had tons of extracurriculars going on. I groaned about the task incessantly from day one. “What a pointless assignment,” I thought. “What’s so great about a historical play about witches?”

Nevertheless, within several days, I was hooked. And it wasn’t just because of Tituba’s growling voice on the cassette-taped scenes my teacher would play for us in class. First, it was the fascinating history behind the play’s development that drew me in. Then, it was Miller’s ability to transcend time with the underlying, universal message of his plot.

Miller, who died Friday, said, “great drama is great questions.” This quote resonates deeply within me. As a writer and an advocate of all things creative, I feel that “great” art is never clear-cut. It stirs up questions, explores the inner workings of human nature and evokes a response. How can we read Kushner’s “Angels in America” without questioning the significance of life and death in a society so blinded by its callous nature? We cannot watch “The Bicycle Thief” without being reminded that moral decay is, unfortunately, everywhere.

Great art means responsibility, and Miller took on this responsibility in “The Crucible,” as well as in many of his other works, including “Death of a Salesman” and “The Price.” Miller’s works embodied the true essence of his aforementioned quote, inspiring political and sociological thought and pushing his audience toward the discovery of a greater meaning.

In “Death of a Salesman,” Miller addressed society’s obsession with materialism by exploring the “American Dream.” Is financial stability the key to happiness, or does personal fulfillment lie in something deeper?

In “The Crucible,” Miller raised his questions allegorically, drawing careful parallels between the Salem witch hunt and the House Un-American Activities Committee’s paranoid search for communists in the ’50s. In doing so, he celebrated those who held to their beliefs and refused to lie to save their lives. This celebration of honesty and integrity rings significantly today, especially in a society riddled with selfishness and disingenuousness.

Because of the House Un-American Activities Committee’s great power, Miller was unable to obtain a passport allowing him to attend the premiere of “The Crucible” in Belgium. This did not shake him. The Village Voice noted that Miller’s ability to combine the political with the humane — not only in his art, but also in his life — is what “made him a central figure in American life whether you admired a given play or a given action of his, or not.” The Voice went on to note that Miller “was there to challenge the system by becoming part of it, to disrupt the tradition by continuing it, to question the prevailing images by adding irrevocably to their stock.”

These characteristics within Miller’s work — as well as in his personality — are those that will root him in aesthetic and theatrical history forever. For as long as there is the theater, there will be the staging of Arthur Miller’s great works, for Miller is one of “the greats.”

Report Claire to the House Un-American Activities Committee at [email protected].