Who Tells Your Story: The Implications of Historical Inaccuracy in Hamilton
Guiliana Sodaro
Lone Star College
Abstract
While research into Hamilton and the genre of historical fiction as a whole often lends itself to the debate of historical accuracy, this research aims to understand how these historical accuracies impact an individual character’s perception in society. This research examines Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton and its presentation of founding father Alexander Hamilton. First, an analysis of the impact historical fiction has on the real world helps us understand historical fiction’s responsibility toward audience perceptions. Then, an analysis of the musical’s framing of the Reynolds Affair and the presentation of the character of Alexander Hamilton as an abolitionist suggests that these misrepresentations serve as a glorification of American history and allow audience members to absolve themselves from any discomfort associated with the establishment of America. Lastly, this research examines Hamilton fan art to determine how audience members connected with figures inside the story of Hamilton; it discovers that, through its desire for a compelling narrative, Hamilton causes many audience members to view historical figures as simply characters inside a story. Findings suggest that Hamilton upholds the mythos of American creation and disguises a whitewashed history behind a multiracial cast, allowing audiences to bask in the ideals of the American dream without the shame of the American past.
Who Tells Your Story: The Implications of Historical Inaccuracy in Hamilton
The last song in the musical Hamilton is called “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” This song is the culmination of Hamilton’s ongoing question of legacy and storytelling. After all, as long as there have been humans, there have been stories. Human connection is tied to these stories through connection with “our past, our cultural histories, our beliefs, our values, our expanding communities and with one another” (Katter). One can track human development through the love of stories, and theater in particular, in every region on the planet. Theater is one of the few things that ties these cultures together, that links them even if they do not know it. Ancient Greece, Edo Japan, and Elizabethan England all have this one thing in common: theater. In fact, they have even more in common through theater. Their theater told the story of their history, whether it be truth, legend, or something in between. The Twenty-First Century has its own version of history-turned-theater, the ultra-successful Hamilton. This play’s success cannot be overstated. Hamilton, written by Lin-Manuel Miranda, is a biographical musical that focuses on the life of founding father Alexander Hamilton, from his arrival in New York to his death. The musical broke barriers in the theater world, becoming so popular that it burst into the mainstream. Hamilton was one of the first musicals to have the original Broadway cast recording released on a major streaming service, second only to Harvey Fierstein’s Newsies (McGuire). During July 2020, the month of Hamilton’s Disney+ debut, Hamilton became the most-watched film or TV show across any streaming platform, with 37.1% of all viewers that month watching Hamilton, as opposed to any other TV show or movie (Hunter). People from every corner of America knew the story of “the ten-dollar founding father without a father “(Miranda, “Alexander Hamilton” 0:19). Hamilton blended both story and history for its audience, allowing for a more compelling narrative. Ultimately, however, this desire for a compelling narrative gives rise to historical inaccuracies, specifically in its presentation of the character of Alexander Hamilton. The result is a biased framing that whitewashes history and erases the painful legacy of slavery in the United States. Furthermore, Hamilton causes its audience to view the historical figures within the story as simply characters, which leads to their glorification and allows audiences to bask in the ideals of the American dream without the shame of the American past. While research into Hamilton and the genre of historical fiction as a whole often lends itself to the debate of historical accuracy, this research seeks to understand how these historical accuracies impact an individual character’s perception in society, specifically Alexander Hamilton. In order to answer this question, this paper will first explore the debate surrounding historical accuracy within fiction to gain a greater understanding of how history informs the fiction of its setting. Then, it will analyze the Broadway musical Hamilton and its presentation of the titular character, Alexander Hamilton, to determine how the musical’s presentation of this character may have impacted audience perceptions of slavery and abolition as they pertain to Alexander Hamilton himself. Lastly, this paper will examine Hamilton fan art to better understand the musical’s impact on its audience and their perceptions of the historical figures portrayed within the musical. Ultimately, this research suggests that Hamilton creates characters from these historical figures, which allows audience members to detach them from their faults; the musical upholds the American mythos and creates a whitewashed version of history, all while being disguised behind a multiracial cast.
History Has Its Eyes on You
Before one can understand the role Hamilton plays in portraying history, one must first understand the implications of historical fiction as a genre. There is significant debate on whether historical fiction is responsible for accurately portraying history, or if it can simply be regarded as a piece of fiction like any other. One example often cited is Margaret Mitchell’s well-known novel set during the American Civil War and the Reconstruction Era, Gone with the Wind. Published in 1936, it tells the story of Scarlett O’Hara, the spoiled daughter of a plantation owner. In “” Ridiculous Extremes”: Historical Accuracy, Gone with the Wind, and the Role of Beauty in Plantation Tourism,” author Matthew Paul Smith speaks of his time as a site interpreter at the Shadows-on-the-Teche plantation museum in New Iberia, Louisiana. In particular, he discusses the role Gone with The Wind played in the ideals of plantation tourism and the aestheticization of the time period. Slavery took a backseat in many guests’ minds, with their focus instead shifting to the romantic appeal of Gone with the Wind and the plantation architecture surrounding them (187). These aesthetics often overwhelmed guests’ desires for historical narratives, with Smith even identifying one Black couple who discussed having their wedding there, saying they “could take pleasure in the visual attractiveness of the site while simultaneously bearing in mind the history of its racial violence and chattel slavery that had been presented to them on the tour” (189). This disconnect between the grotesque realities of plantations and the romantic appeal of Gone with the Wind seemingly indicates that while historical fiction does have an impact on the real world, historical fiction and true history are somewhat mutually exclusive, at least idealistically. One could even contend that the idealistic presentation of history within Gone with the Wind may be what makes the book controversial today, as it fails to acknowledge the weight of its setting. Conversely, many claim that the true benefit of historical fiction lies in its place as both history and fiction. In “Beyond ‘Is It True?’: The ‘Playframe’ in Historical Fiction,” author Melissa Addey asks the question of whether the inaccuracies in fiction are what allow for the true story to be fleshed out. She proposes that instead of questioning historical accuracy, critics should question the fictional elements of the story and how they may have improved upon the story the author is attempting to tell (431). By disregarding historical accuracy, she argues, we may “provoke responses that offer us a deeper insight into the author’s playful engagement with the frame of the past” (431). History may simply be the frame the author placed their story within as to tell it best, so should the lack of accuracy be considered a merit on the part of fiction, or a demerit on the part of history? Christopher Bartel dissects this dichotomy of historical fiction in “The Puzzle of Historical Criticism,” stating that “the puzzle of historical criticism is the result of a conflict between two seemingly acceptable, but incompatible, intuitions: the intuition that historical inaccuracies in works of fiction diminish the value of some as works of fiction and the intuition that, as works of fiction, such works should be free from the constraints of historical truth” (221). It is impossible to determine the true merit of historical fiction without that comparison to history, yet it is simultaneously impossible to determine the necessity of historical accuracy because of the word fiction. In ““Make ’em Laugh” Why History Cannot Be Reduced to Song and Dance,” Nancy Isenberg emphasizes the need for clarity and division in the case of Hamilton, as the blur between history and entertainment may cause the truth to get lost in the mix (303). Despite this notion that historical inaccuracies diminish fiction, others argue that this dichotomy allows for a symbiosis between history and fiction since the inaccurate elements will entice more people to learn about the historical subjects in question. Regarding Hamilton, author Joanne B. Freeman argues Hamilton “de-familiarizes” the myths typically associated with America's creation in a form that encourages the audience to invest in these historical figures. This investment allows historians to “take full advantage of the spotlight that Hamilton has cast on America’s Founding to advance our nation’s understanding of its past” (262). Hamilton’s position as a piece of media, and to some extent a piece of fiction, allows it to engage its audience beyond the abilities of historical nonfiction. Some say, however, that the impact of historical fiction means authors have just as much responsibility as a true historian does in accurately representing history. Laura Saxton repeats Bartel’s sentiment of conflict in “A True Story: Defining Accuracy and Authenticity in Historical Fiction,” stating that “[t]here is an inherent tension between representation and truth in historical fictions,” so we must consider how the explicitly fictional context impacts the representation of the past in these texts, just as we have considered how historians craft representations in their nonfiction narratives (140). She expands on this concept in her belief that historical fiction’s representation is shaped by both historical knowledge and cultural contexts, so each reader will have a “unique frame of reference on which they base their interpretations” (141). Each of these critics has provided tremendous insight into historical fiction and the debate behind the necessity of accuracy within the genre, but what has yet to be explored is how these historical accuracies or inaccuracies influence the broader perception of real figures, such as in the case of Hamilton. Hamilton is not simply historical fiction, but a global phenomenon that fictionalized real figures still present in legislation today. In order to understand the 7 presentation of Alexander Hamilton as a man, a myth, and a legend, this paper will delve into how these representations influence the framing of his character within the musical.
In New York You Can Be a New Man
The musical Hamilton often presents its titular character in an overly positive light so that the audience may more easily sympathize with his struggles, something that is particularly noticeable in the song “Say No to This.” “Say No to This” presents Hamilton as the victim of the Reynolds Affair, despite his willingness to participate. Before the song introduces his affair partner, Maria Reynolds, Hamilton describes himself as “weak,” saying “I hadn't slept in a week, I was weak, I was awake / you never seen a bastard orphan more in need of a break” (Miranda 0:24). Hamilton reminds the audience of his victimhood before the musical even allows for his mistakes to be shown. Even when Reynolds is introduced, Hamilton is presented as her savior. She reiterates his honor and tells him that her husband has been “beating [her], cheating [on her], and mistreating [her]” (0:50) and that he has suddenly left her without warning or “means to go on” (0:57). Hamilton then gives her money and offers to walk her home, once again showing that he is, above all else, a hero and a gentleman. Maria Reynolds is the one to lead him “to her bed” and “spread her legs,” despite Hamilton’s desire to leave (1:13). Hamilton acknowledges the clear power imbalance between the two by saying “she looks so helpless,” but the blame for the affair is still placed on the “helpless” Maria Reynolds (Miranda 1:28). The entire premise of the song “Say No to This” is about Hamilton being too weak to reject the advances of another woman, thus making the biggest mistake of his life. Maria Reynolds is the one to initiate contact, with Hamilton choosing to say “then her mouth is on mine” rather than “we kissed” because it absolves him from the blame of kissing her back (1:43). “Say No to This” intentionally paints Maria Reynolds as a seductress, a liar, and at points a rapist. After all, she isn’t allowing Hamilton to “say no to this,” despite his lack of actual attempts to say no. Through its framing, “Say No to This” presents Alexander Hamilton as the Maria Reynolds’s victim, rather than a participant in his own worst mistake. Such a portrayal allows Hamilton to exploit the drama of the Reynolds Affair without having to completely forsake the titular character’s morality since the audience is expected to place the majority of the blame on Maria Reynolds. Hamilton is the protagonist, so he is allowed the context of victimhood, while Maria Reynolds is simply a seductress. As a result, Maria Reynolds is completely absent from the musical post-affair, while the audience is expected to sympathize with Hamilton when the scandal damages his reputation and costs him the presidency. This positive light toward Alexander Hamilton is critical when considering his abolitionist portrayal within the musical Hamilton. In the song “My Shot,” lyrics imply that Alexander Hamilton, John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, and Marquis de Lafayette are, in Hamilton’s words, “a bunch of revolutionary manumission abolitionists” (2:33). In the song “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down),” Hamilton celebrates John Laurens’ dream of creating a black regiment of soon-to-be-former slaves and says, "We’ll never be free until we end slavery" (1:28). Even Hamilton’s wife, Elizabeth Schuyler, says in the play's final song that he "could have done so much more" toward ending slavery had he lived longer (Miranda, “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story” 2:02). To his credit, the real Alexander Hamilton was a founder and the secretary of "The NewYork Society for Promoting the Manumission of Slaves, and Protecting Such of Them as Have Been, or May be Liberated,” an anti-slavery group that established the New York African Free School and aided in the passage of a 1799 state law that freed the children of enslaved people (Chernow 214). Even within the New York Manumission Society, however, more than half of its members owned slaves, a “contradiction [that was] commonplace” at the time (215). Hamilton also opposed a Federal abolition of slavery, as he believed it could potentially endanger the Three-Fifths Compromise as it was agreed upon at the 1787 Constitutional Convention (McDonald 177). Hamilton, along with James Madison, was strongly in favor of this compromise, writing in Federalist Paper 54 “Let the compromising expedient of the Constitution be mutually adopted, which regards them as inhabitants, but as debased by servitude below the equal level of free inhabitants, which regards the SLAVE as divested of two fifths of the MAN.” While Hamilton was strongly opposed to slavery, historical analysis shows that he was willing to overlook this opposition in the right circumstances. One such circumstance is his marriage to Elizabeth Schuyler, whose family was one of the largest slave-owning families in New York at the time. In fact, Philip Schuyler, Elizabeth’s father, is suspected to have owned approximately 40 slaves between his Saratoga and Albany estates (Funiciello). Hamilton's grandson, Allan McLane Hamilton, noted that Alexander Hamilton’s account books included entries for the purchase of slaves, both for himself and others (qtd. in Schuessler). Schuyler Mansion State historiographer Jessie Serfilippi reiterates this note in her own analysis of Hamilton’s account books and letters, stating “[w]e may never know what became of the people the Hamiltons enslaved, but we know they existed,” before calling for an end to “the myth of Hamilton as the ‘Abolitionist Founding Father’” (Serfilippi 29). Despite these accounts, Hamilton perpetuates this myth, using slavery and abolition as tools to signify to the audience when to root for or against other characters. In “Cabinet Battle #1,” Hamilton rebuffs Jefferson’s argument against having the Federal government assume states debts by using the phrase “Your debts are paid ‘cause you don’t pay for labor… keep ranting, we know who’s really doing the planting” (Miranda 1:50). While Thomas Jefferson is known to have owned upward of 600 slaves throughout his lifetime, more than any other U.S. President, the framing of this line presents Jefferson as a scapegoat, representative of the system of slavery itself. At the same time, Hamilton is positioned as his progressive, “forward-thinking” opposition. The musical disregards the slave-owning background of characters like George Washington and Philip Schuyler, who were still entrenched in slavery to a lesser degree, because doing so would complicate their relationship with the “Abolitionist Founding Father” (O’Neill). Considering Hamilton’s use of “color-blind” casting, a method in which casting directors select actors for roles without consideration of the character’s race, this erasure of Hamilton’s policies of slavery rings hollow. The show’s marketing specifically emphasized its casting, with playwright Lin-Manuel Miranda referring to Hamilton with the phrase “America then, as told by America now” (Delman). While well-intentioned, this sentiment fails to acknowledge the existence of people of color, specifically Black people, throughout American history. Black Americans were rarely credited by name in history books, although their existence was still worthy of note. There were enough enslaved Black people to make a significant difference in population counts, even when they were reduced to three-fifths of the worth of a white man. “America then” still had people of color, although they go unrepresented in Hamilton. Instead, Hamilton uses its multiracial cast to disguise its lack of space for people of color within the narrative. Not a single historical figure of color, free or enslaved, actually exists within the show itself. It is even possible that the presentation of history has been tailored to Broadway’s majority white audiences, with the racial undertones of the founding of America becoming whitewashed and sanitized to allow audiences to connect with characters more easily. Only 29.4% of Broadway theater-goers in the 2022-2023 season were people of color, up from 26% in the 2018-2019 season (Abourizk). Did Miranda intentionally tailor Hamilton to fit the Broadway audiences of the time, which were nearly 80% white? Regardless, the circumstances surrounding the musical’s release do not detract from its faults (Davenport).
They’ll Tell the Story of Tonight
It would be impossible to talk about Hamilton without discussing the sheer scale of its popularity. Hamilton has won eleven Tony awards, a Grammy, and a Pulitzer Prize. It broke barriers in the theater world, becoming the first musical to bring in more than three million dollars for eight showings. This massive scale, of course, led to a massive fanbase. This fanbase, or the “Hamilfans” as they are often called, viewed these characters in Hamilton as simply that, characters. Eventually, Tumblr user ask-crammaster-ham decided to create alternate universe versions of these “characters,” who were no longer real, historical figures, but instead college students with he/she/they pronouns and anime obsessions. One of these images, affectionately referred to as “Miku Binder Thomas Jefferson” posits the founding father as a transgender man, furry, former drug dealer, and cocaine addict, among other things. The image depicts him wearing a chest binder, an article of clothing used by many transgender and non-binary people, printed with the face of virtual pop star Hatsune Miku as well as a t-shirt with the phrase “met god, she's black.” It is important to once again emphasize that this was a real person who was heavily involved in the founding of America. Thomas Jefferson’s influence on political documents, such as the Declaration of Independence, is still seen in policies and bills established today. Creating characters from these real men allows us to detach from their real-world actions, effectively erasing their own influence on their lives. To be human is to make mistakes, but once we get attached to these historical figures as “characters” it may become difficult to view their imperfect pasts as anything beyond a “character flaw.” This then allows Hamilton’s audiences to bask in the ideals of the American dream without feeling forced into the shame of the American past. These two ideals, however, cannot exist independently. Slavery is just as much a part of American history as landing on the moon. There is no present without the past, and no future without the present. Therefore, it is crucial to acknowledge the American dream as a direct result of America’s history of oppression. Until those without freedom are recognized in their own right, there can be no true “Land of the Free.”
Conclusion
While the Pledge of Allegiance calls for liberty and justice for all, it makes no mention of how taking creative liberties may interfere with this justice for all, in particular, justice for those marginally represented. The musical Hamilton presents its titular character as an outright abolitionist, but even a cursory examination of his life tells a different story. Hamilton the founding father and historical figure was a founder and the secretary of the New York Manumission Society, but he was also a strong supporter of the Three-Fifths Compromise and a purchaser of slaves. Rather than a “revolutionary manumission abolitionist,” Hamilton used slavery as a tool to further his political career, speaking up only when it was beneficial for him to do so (Miranda, “My Shot” 2:33). Similarly, the musical Hamilton uses slavery and abolition as tools to further its plot. The story presents Alexander Hamilton as a sympathetic character, a savior, and an abolitionist. Such heroism is emphasized in the biased framing surrounding the Reynolds Affair, in which Maria Reynolds is portrayed as at fault, despite the clear power imbalance between them. Hamilton frames the Democratic-Republicans, and Thomas Jefferson in particular, as scapegoats for the system of slavery itself, so that it can position Alexander Hamilton as a foil to the system, a forward-thinking protagonist who sees the merit of having people of color integrated into society. Hamilton also allows its audience to view the characters of the founding fathers as nothing more than these characters, as evidenced by ask-crammaster-ham’s “Miku Binder Thomas Jefferson.” The result is effectively an erasure of their own influence on their lives and their continued influence today. In creating characters from these morally gray figures, Hamilton glorifies both the individuals and the painful legacy of slavery and slave owners in the United States, upholding the mythos of American creation and disguising a whitewashed history behind a multiracial cast. Audiences are thus allowed to bask in the ideals of the American dream without the shame of the American past. Hamilton was not the first story to be historically inaccurate for the sake of a compelling plot, and it certainly will not be the last. Musicals like 1776 and Six face the same criticisms, and there are likely to be more “historical musicals” that follow the same format. That being said, Hamilton’s impact on public perceptions is unique considering its worldwide, record-breaking fame. This research opens up more questions regarding the responsibility of historical fiction. How much artistic liberty is acceptable and when should historical accuracy take precedence over storytelling? Stories will always influence the public, and Hamilton is simply another example of an influential story. In another 250 years, we could become influential figures in a similar vein to those in Hamilton, if we play our cards right. So the question then becomes, who will tell our story? And whose story will they change when the time comes?