Earlier this summer I had the very distinct pleasure of attending the popular rap-musical, Hamilton, with my daughter in Chicago. A lot has been written about this show, and its well-deserved popularity. Indeed, the music, the lyrics, the acting, the set, the choreography–all that and more are truly amazing.
Beyond this critical acclaim, what I find most interesting is the fact that this show is historical fiction at its best, the stories of who lived, and who died, and what happened. Lin-Manuel Miranda, who created the show and starred as the protagonist in the Broadway production, based this musical on the Ron Chernow’s biography, Alexander Hamilton (2004), so a lot of research went into the making of the show.
In school, kids study George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Ben Franklin. Less attention is paid to Alexander Hamilton, even though he was a prolific writer and of tremendous influence on the establishment of this country. Sure we learn about his stint as the first Secretary of the Treasury and his death from a duel with Aaron Burr. We know he’s the guy on the $10 bill. And some of us wade through excerpts of the Federalist Papers for which he, John Jay, and James Madison are responsible. But we don’t learn much about the man. His life doesn’t become legend the way the lives of others Founding Fathers have.
Lin-Manuel Miranda’s genius is grabbing us by the throat and showing us the story of this remarkable man and his important role in the unlikely founding of the United States of America. Hamilton’s rise to power is the epitome of American opportunity. Miranda opens the show by demanding to know how a bastard, orphaned immigrant can become great. From the very beginning notes, we in the audience care about this young man full of hopes and dreams coming to what will become America. As we follow Hamilton’s story, we witness America itself being born.
For the most part, the show is well-researched and factually correct. Even his emotional turmoils, his dreams and goals, and his scandalous affair are documented through Chernow and Miranda’s study of Hamilton’s extensive correspondence and other writings. Those few departures from historical fact were made with thought and deliberation to enhance the story without losing sight of the truth. For instance, in reality the Schuyler sisters had two brothers, which Miranda left out, probably because they had little effect on Hamilton’s story. Another example is the duel between Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton. The shooting actually happened in 1804 after Burr lost the election for governor, not in 1800 after Burr’s failed bid for the Presidency. Though the details of the duel’s timing are inaccurate, the rivalry between Hamilton and Burr is well-documented and clearly portrayed in the musical. The discrepancy doesn’t take away from the story or the shock of Hamilton’s death.
It’s no easy task to make Americans care about history. We tend to be a forward-looking people, too often ignoring the past and forgetting the problems from yesteryear. Yet we can learn a lot from history. Modern Americans still struggle with racial inequities, federal budget deficits, immigration issues, and the of balance work and home life. Miranda’s story of Hamilton entertains, but also reminds us of who we are. Through modern rap, dance, and song, we can see ourselves in this story of our past.
History is told by the survivors. Unlike the other founding fathers, Hamilton’s life was cut short, so he did not survive. But his wife, Eliza, lived for another fifty years after him, and even though her voice was ignored by many for years, she never quit telling Hamilton’s story. Now Lin-Manuel Miranda has taken up the story and given it to us again. I am grateful.
BRIC-A-BRAC 