Hamilton and Preconceptions

During service-learning a few weeks ago, the students were completing a project Black History Month.  They each had to pick a historical figure and write a short biography about their lives.  Within just a few pages they had to fit an entire life.  I was tasked with going through papers one-on-one with the students, fixing grammatical errors and trying to explain the importance the formatting.  After reading all the papers put in front of me, I noticed an interesting pattern.  The students, most barely 10 years old, did not turn to internet resources for their information.  Instead, nearly all relied on hearsay and their parents.  The results were, largely, a fascinating mix of fact and legend.  I was struck by how easily history becomes myth.  Legacies get contorted if they are not cared for properly.

This, it seems, is especially true of history that we think we know.  The American Revolution, for example.  Hamilton relies, in part, on our familiarity with the story.  With its setting and characters, the audience brings with them a litany of understandings and preconceptions, both the factual and the myth - not unlike what Shakespeare’s audience would have had when watching his history plays.  Washington’s entrance, preceded by much hype, is meaningful because we know who he is and we know his future.  Similarly, Jefferson is allowed to be introduced as a main character halfway thru the action because is a national character - we already know him.  Sections of history, like much of the the years directly after the war and the Adams administration, are able to be largely glossed over because of the understanding that the audience is generally aware of history. 

The play relies on our knowledge to the extent that Hamilton has no problem giving away the ending.  It’s assumed that its most climactic moment, the duel between Hamilton and Burr, has already been embedded in the audience's mind.  Even in the narrative itself, with exposition doled out to us by an older Burr, the event has already happened in the past.  There is an inevitability of history, and by extension plot, that hangs over the entirety of the play.  However, it is this inevitability that allows for a sharper and more meaningful focus on all that comes before.

I was thinking about how Hamilton has recently opened in London, and a reviewer questioned whether the show would have the same impact on a culture that is so much farther removed from the history.  Of course, they know about the American Revolution - they fought in it, after all.  However, they don’t learn about it in school.  Their knowledge of the history is, generally, only in the vaguest of terms.  Not that many Americans also don’t know the details, but we know this story in a different way.  We have lived with these faces - in textbooks, art, monuments, classrooms, and even on our money - our entire lives.  These “characters” are not merely characters: they are the stuffy, old men staring down at me from the walls of my social studies class.  As a result of this familiarity, with its cast and use of hip-hop, Hamilton’s reimagining of history is alive in a completely different way.

However, it also relies on our lack of knowledge in times when it favors storytelling over historical fact.  Angelica, for example, was already married by the time Hamilton and Eliza are introduced, and Hamilton didn’t meet Laurens or Lafayette until much later in war.  These inconsistencies are okay because they work to create a tighter narrative, however, Hamilton also exploits the selectivity of history.  “Now I’m the villain in your history,” Burr observes after shooting Hamilton. And he’s right; the audience enters the show with the assumption that Burr is the villain.  It is not until “Wait For It” that we are allowed to see the story from Burr’s perspective.  With this momentary shift, the audience is exposed to a Burr who is completely sympathetic and exists outside of our historical categorization of him.  The duel, that one moment of Burr and Hamilton acting out of character, not only has tragic consequences, it also defines Burr’s legacy: “History obliterates / With every picture it paints / It paint me in all my mistakes.”

Hamilton ends with Eliza’s ambiguous relationship with history. We see her move from singing, "Oh, let me be a part of the narrative / In the story they will write someday" in Act One, to "I'm erasing myself from the narrative. / Let future historians wonder / How Eliza reacted when you broke her heart" in the aftermath of the Reynolds Pamphlet.  She shifts again in the final song, declaring, "I put myself back in the narrative," before asking in her last line, "Will they tell my story?” But her story, like that of many minorities throughout history, is not commonly known. The historical narrative is littered with gaps, and what becomes of you is determined by future generations.