A Streetcar Named Desire Critical Review Essay

Critics have praised Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire for its characters. Crude, sensual Stanley; dreamy, burned-out Blanche; bashful, meek Mitch. That being said, the successful portrayal of these characters is the mark of an excellent Streetcar performance. According to many readers, the stunning characterization is what makes A Streetcar Named Desire so compelling and legendary. Yet I would like to disagree. I think it is the play’s setting that makes the story so fascinating. Streetcar occupies a specific place and time in the American literary canon. Blanche finds herself adrift in the tough, yet endearing world of New Orleans in the mid to late 1940s. In Stella’s working class neighborhood, traversed by a streetcar named Cemeteries and a streetcar named Desire, there is a sort of
Blanche’s fall from grace would not have been as devastating if she had grown up anywhere but the traditional, family-oriented, socially cruel South. And surely strong, confident Stella would not have stuck with the crude, abusive Stanley had she lived elsewhere, somewhere far away from the dirt and commotion of New Orleans in the forties that obscured the chaos and brutality occurring behind its closed doors. But the women are Blanche DuBois and Stella Kowalski, not the Bennet sisters. As the Old South began to die, they looked for salvation in different directions, both ultimately ending in tragedy. That place, that time, was just not hospitable to the women. So Stella became submissive, the archetype that would soon pervade 1950s Americana, the woman that exists to serve her man, who exists to serve himself. And Blanche became an anachronism, a “woman out of time”, literally and figuratively. Her flourishing springtime had long past. And that hot, horrible summer in New Orleans ushered in the fast-approaching fall of regrets and broken dreams, the autumn that doomed Blanche to a mental