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The Crucible Character Diary Project: John Proctor - Essay Example

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The author of the "The Crucible Character Diary Project: John Proctor," paper tells how he spent all season plowing the field and for once had felt a sense of satisfaction. Tobacco, corn, and cauliflower. Surely this will trade well throughout Salem…
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The Crucible Character Diary Project: John Proctor
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? The Crucible Character Diary Project: John Proctor Descriptive On Saturday I looked out the window of my cabin onto the farm. I’d spent all season plowing the field and for once had felt a sense of satisfaction. Tobacco, corn, and cauliflower. Surely this will trade well throughout Salem. I still remember first moving to this home and the rough farmland that surrounded it. The large trees I had to unearth and breakdown for firewood. There was nobody to help me then. It was backbreaking work moving the rocks that outlined the land, but doing it by myself gave me a particular sense of satisfaction. I remember laying down after first clearing the field. I smelt the fresh aroma of pine trees from the surrounding yards and swore I could smell some of the future crops that would be grown there. I love this farm. Yesterday I walked throughout the cabin and took note of things that were in need of repair. Of course the horse trough, but Elizabeth can wait. She’d much rather have me repair the door that has become unhinged. It now hangs from the wall like a saddle off a wild mare. I do hope tomorrow is Mary’s day to clean the home. It smells like rotten radishes or some spoiled stew grandmother Douglas used to prepare. I don’t understand where this comes from. Elizabeth tells me that all the homes in Salem smell like this during this time of year, but I don’t seem to notice. Either way I will ask May to find some candles or scent to lay on the back room mantle. Narrative Abigail came over again. I know this is wrong. Elizabeth had left for the night to the evening service and Abigail came to the door. She claimed she had left her scarf, but I don’t believe her story and I question if she watched Elizabeth leave. God why have I done this again and why cannot I not resist these urges. I love Elizabeth and truly care for her being, but I am propelled by these urges. I let Abigail in the door and she could not find her scarf. We walked to family room and I began to tell her of the crops and how Elizabeth has recovered from her cold. There was a pause in the conversation and we glared knowingly at each other. She placed her hand on my elbow and whispered my name, “John” she said. It was simple but it said everything. I replied, “Abigail this is wrong,” but I truly didn’t believe it. We then walked to the back room. The door was still hanging from the hinge from the last time she was here and kicked it off. Afterwards we just sat on the benches outside the cabin, she with her head on my shoulder. It felt nice, but not quite right. Oh these long nights. I hunger for something, for some sense of meaning or existence or whatever I don’t know. Elizabeth came home when Abigail was still there. I don’t think she suspects anything, but I can tell she does not like Abigail. There was a curt and caustic hello. Abigail left soon after. Persuasive There must be some way for them to understand. Elizabeth engaging in witchcraft, has the entire town gone mad? I will go to the trials tomorrow along with Mary and speak. Elizabeth has always followed God and the Bible. My God what have I done, this is all because of Abigail. I will go to the trial along with Mary and attempt to use reason. Surely they will listen. There are enough people in the town that still support Elizabeth that the testimony of a single girl surely would not persuade all of Salem. Oh, but what of the affair. What can I do? This is Elizabeth’s life I cannot allow my sins to go on any farther. I will go to the trial and first use reason. I will have Mary testify as to the truth of the situation. I will tell them about my conversation with Abigail when she stated that there was no such witchcraft that occurred. If the court still does not heed my words I will then after to reveal the true nature of my relationship with Abigail. I cannot allow this absurd charade to be carried on any longer. Abigail has perpetuated this myth out of an absurd child’s lust or desire or whatever it is; in either case it is of no difference. I was wrong, but I will inform them of this. Abigail is a liar and because of my affair with her has attempted to indict Elizabeth into this mess. They will surely understand after I inform them at the trial. Reflective This town has surely gone insane. It has been days, weeks, months I have been here. I no longer have any recollection. They’ve beaten me with wooden sticks and locked me in this dungeon, but still I will not confess. The absurdity of this situation. Damn it all to hell. They claim they are Christians but it is all to Hell. They are political and conniving and duplicitous. I believe Reverand Hale and Parris know the truth of the matter and have purposely concealed the reality from the rest of the town as a means of advancing their own interests. Oh you stupid and brainwashed people. How can you fall for such foolishness! Witchcraft? Suddenly our entire town is witches. The evil machinations of Parris and Hale if there is a God or Hell they surely await this fate. Abigail her youth has clouded her mind, yet still there is evil inherent in her ways. I am to die for this and my family my children – Elizabeth. AHHH. This is to not. Perhaps I deserve this. I should never have come involved with Abigail to begin with. There are reasons for avoiding relations with one so young as her. Her youthful mind and wistful ways and lust have now ruined an entire town. Damn Abigail, Damn Hale, Damn Parris – they are all fake and phonies to the first degree. They will surely rot it is the only fair way. Still, I cannot confess. I have my name that is all I have and will not give in to such absurdity and preposterousness. Spite them all. Miscellaneous Oh these dreaded sermons. Five miles to hear Reverend Hale’s fire and brimstone. I will not go tomorrow, I would rather work on the farm. Such negativity in these services. I sat alone last night by the fire and doubted my faith. How is it possible that entire groups of people will be damned to Hell. What sort of God would put us on this Earth and allow for such suffering. Mrs. Putnam has had seven children die. I do not believe this is the work of a devil or evil spirit I believe this is the way of our existence. Three years of short farmland and widespread deaths throughout the town those years – was this too the work of Satan. And the natives. These tribe like people have no knowledge of the Bible or Jesus or God. They have their own ways, their own spirituality. They are savage I recognize, but will they surely rot in Hell for their ignorance? I cannot believe such a God and benevolent being as Jesus Christ would allow for such things to occur. No I truly have begun to doubt the nature of this religious trap. I thought of telling Elizabeth last week, but when I broached the subject of her ever questioning things she seemed to not have these thoughts. I was unable to go any farther. Argh I yearn for an individual to share these questions about our existence with, but I feel surrounded by a town that has been brainwashed by the Book and the Reverend. Miscellaneous It was horrid. I had told Abigail that this would occur but she would never listen. Why wasn’t I more forward with her in making her leave early. It is my fault I needed the affection and warmth. The urges overtook me. It happened yesterday. Abigail and I were in the bedroom it had been a passionate night and instead of getting dressed we simply sat in our nudity, bodies pressed against each other. I needed her warmth against mine I convinced myself. We talked of the day and about the stars and Abigail asked if I thought it would ever be possible to make a machine that would go so high as to reach Heaven. It was then that Elizabeth entered. I didn’t even hear her open the front gate but as she walked through the kitchen Abigail suddenly stopped talking and my mind shifted to the door hanging from the hinge in the room in which we now laid naked together. There was no way to hide and no time to stop us. Elizabeth walked into the room and saw us. “John” is all she said. Low and unassuming. I was unable to gauge her true emotions, but it was have been devastating. I jumped out of the bed and found her. I attempted to explain myself but I realized that there was no lie I could tell. I simply wrapped my arms around her and told her things would change. She pushed me away. I returned to Abigail and by then she was clothed. I instructed her to leave. Elizabeth has still not spoken to me. Read More
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