The “9/11 generation” has come of age in the era of an entrenched binary of the “good” (moderate, patriotic, law-abiding) versus “bad” (radical, militant, anti-American) Muslim. Yet this script is flipped by youth who are challenging the policing of black and brown youth and policies of surveillance, incarceration, and counterterrorism and engaging in cross-racial solidarity.
—Andrew M. Schocket
What’s especially noteworthy about Hamilton’s recent posthumous pop-culture stardom is that it was launched by a dozen-year-old biography that is once again on the best-seller lists: Ron Chernow’s Alexander Hamilton (2004). How should we think about Chernow’s massive account—currently again one of the top-selling history books in the nation—not only as a biography and work of history, but also at the epicenter of this new Hamilton-mania?
So much of the way I think about tragedy as a genre and political category comes from the work of Raymond Williams’s Modern Tragedy, in which the critic labors to show how flawed the elitist linguistic divide separating tragedy as a high art (the tragedy of Comparative Literature, English, and Classics curriculums) versus tragedy’s everyday use as signifying a grave event, a calamitous lost.