Why Ron Chernow’s Grant Is a Brilliant Book That Will Never Inspire a Hit Musical

The moment it was announced that Ron Chernow had a new book about Ulysses S. Grant coming out (Grant), the first question everyone thought of was whether it would turn into another Hamilton. Chernow’s 2004 biography of one of America’s most brilliant, most misunderstood politicians was a smash bestseller, and moreover, was famously adapted into the instantly legendary Broadway musical by Lin-Manual Miranda. Chernow is a brilliant writer with a talent for making historical figures live and breathe on the page, and Grant is no exception. That said, Grant probably won’t inspire a hip hop-flavored musical, for reasons that have nothing to do with the book, and everything to do with Ulysses S. Grant.

A Different Kind of Tragedy
While Hamilton’s pride and ability to lose friends and irritate people gives his story a noble tragedy—particularly the avoidable stupidity of his death—Grant’s tragedy is of wholly different nature, rooted in failure and corruption. Grant was successful for about five years of his life; just prior to the Civil War, he was a washed-up, middle-aged former army officer often mistaken for a homeless person on the street. His application to resume his commission when the war broke out was almost turned down by officers who remembered him being drunk on duty. The Civil War turned out to be Grant’s moment to shine, and his military genius during the conflict—which saw him go from a man the army almost didn’t want, to being commander of all Union armies in just a few years—can’t be denied. But after the war, Grant promptly resumed failing upward.

Un-Sexy Scandals
Hamilton was plagued by rumors and bad behavior; his extramarital affairs caused chaos in his life, and his ability to insult people made his political life more difficult than it had to be. But having affairs and getting into duels is kind of sexy, and lends itself to a juicy musical. Grant’s scandals were far less flashy, beginning with his shiftless boozing as a younger man. As president, his appointment of a cabinet filled with political hacks and old friends with little experience put him firmly on the road to being one of our least-regarded presidents—but it isn’t exactly the stuff of a moving ballad. Worse, despite leading what is commonly regarded as one of the most corrupt administrations in history, Grant was largely unaware of the sketchy deals being made in his own offices—hardly the stuff of smart lyrics and sick beats.
Subterranean Grace
To be sure, Chernow works pretty hard to reclaim some glory for Grant, redefining his presidency upwards. Chernow argues that Grant was actually correct in most of his decisions regarding Reconstruction, and that if he’d been able to push his vision forward, the country would be much different—and likely better off—today. And Grant was certainly a true believer in equality, pushing for laws that would secure the newly-freed black slaves a place in society. The problem is, no one has ever argued Grant was a bad man, only that he was a bad president. His intentions may have been noble, but he lacked the ability to make them reality. Grant’s virtues remained largely buried in his private thoughts; his actions off the battlefield were inadequate, and his speeches, kind of dull. Chernow succeeds in inspiring a second look at Grant’s legacy, but there’s little Broadway-esque drama in the story.
A Lack of Visuals
Grant was far from the dashing figure of Alexander Hamilton, boy genius. Where Hamilton got to wear the fancy uniforms of the late 18th century, Grant was known to be a shabby dresser. Where Hamilton had rousing nights of song and revolution in the pubs and taverns of New York, Grant was a solitary drinker, an unhappy sort of alcoholic who would go on lengthy benders, then sober up for protracted periods. He managed to make getting drunk seem like a lot of hard, unsavory work. Unless your idea of a great theatrical visual is a heavyset man in an ill-fitting suit drinking as he stares forlornly at the audience, Grant isn’t the stuff of great theater.
It is, however, the stuff of great history. Chernow, who won the Pulitzer Prize for Washington, once again reintroduces a figure everyone thought they knew, and manages to make it seem like we’re meeting Ulysses S. Grant for the first time. The Grant that emerges in these pages is more complex and sympathetic than the 18th President we learned about in school, and Chernow writes with an ease and energy that makes reading his prose a joy. Grant is a great book. Grant himself was a great general. But his story would make for a pretty bad night at the theater.