History has always been my favorite subject in school. No matter what we did in class, whether a test, essay or presentation, I enjoyed it. That being said, the time when the pilgrims and settlers came to America and the early days of my country is one of my lesser favorites. Why? Because I’ve read about it so many times. But there was something about the witch trials that has left an unspoken mark of horror on me. My morbid fascination with it has left me restless for many a night. It took awhile to convince myself, but, after five years, I finally read Arthur Miller’s The Crucible.
First produced in 1953, The Crucible explores what happens when a vengeful teenager accuses a rival of witchcraft in a 1692 Salem, Massachusetts. As mass hysteria grips the community, these accusations multiply and consume the entire village.
Suspenseful and emotional, this gripping play of how quickly a pious community can become collectively evil, The Crucible is dark, terrifying, and an influential look at what we, the human race, could become again. I rate this four out of five burning stars.