ABSTRACT
Near the conclusion of David Marner's male-cast Glengarry Glen Ross, Richard Roma, a sleazy, cutthroat salesman, stands amid his employer's burgled real estate office. The surrounding destruction heightens Roma's lament that "it's not a world of men ... it's not a world of men" (1984, 105). Just a day earlier, Roma had mesmerized a lead, a potential buyer named James Lingk, with the fantasy that in his desired world of men, a (white) man embodies his own absolute morality: he not only trusts himself, which enables him to overcome any fear of loss, but he also knows that he can "act each day without fear" (49) . This, for Roma, is the way of the world, the way the world is intended to be. But Roma's fantasy of man's moral rightness-man's fearlessness-is nearly dashed when he considers his own position within the destroyed office: it is a scene of chaotic disruption that suggests, paradoxically, an imminent dismantling of the mythdriven world that "naturally" empowers (all) men within American patriarchy. It is a scene whose real and symbolic meanings even Roma cannot 1gnore.
