Dunno where to put this, but I finally got around to seeing Hamilton with the lady. It was pretty good.
A few things struck me - first, this musical is very much an American myth. It's not rose-tinted like some of the hagiographies of Founding Fathers, but it does fit the general rubric of telling a distinctly American tale that glosses over inconvenient bits that don't really fit the narrative. This works a lot better in the revolutionary first half; the second half descends into typical politicking and it's hard to make a real villain (or be really compelling) when the stakes are less 'will the revolution succeed' and more to do with monetary and fiscal policy.
I'm quite curious to see how non-American audiences receive this - on the one hand, it's telling an intensely familiar story, and one that the world likes to hear about America. On the other hand, it veers at times into self-indulgence. I'd have loved to see what a London audience would do with the (hilarious) skewering of an absolute caricature of George III.
Secondly, the musical was delightfully anachronistic. The music, staging, language, actors - it unabashedly ignored historical convention, and I think that was one of its greatest strengths. Miranda isn't recounting history, he's telling a story to a contemporary audience with a very contemporary message. It worked, for the most part - even direct quotes from speeches and correspondence don't seem remotely dated, and are instead deeply familiar and relevant.
My last thought was more of a general one - so much of the content in this piece (and other more serious historical analysis) relies on voluminous correspondence between the key players on history - correspondence that is remarkable in its frankness, depth, and language. Letter writing was a real art back then because it was the main method of communication, and it gives real insight into the characters that is remarkable. I feel like future histories will be far less rich in revealing the complexity of historical figures - emails are so fleeting and fast-paced so as to be nearly irrelevant, and most other communication takes place in a format with little to no permanence. Even more prosaic non-historical contexts are likely to suffer - I have read with delight the letters my grandfather and grandmother wrote each other during WWII, but I doubt the same opportunity would be available to my grandchildren. It's a real shame, IMO - we spend so little time working to put our thoughts into a coherent and thoughtful order, let alone expressing our truest hopes and desires to our loved ones and colleagues. I doubt the solution is to take up letter-writing again (or maybe it is?), but it really made me think.