Previously in Tommy Wallach’s series of harsh criticisms of the genuine work of small children doing their best: Becky.
Alexander Hamilton: The Outsider
Reviewed by Griffin C.
I thought that Alexander Hamilton: The Outsider was amazing. I love history and anything about it, especially wars and reading about different people. Alexander Hamilton was a man of power. He was born in the Caribbean and because his parents weren’t married he was called an outsider. When he got older he came to the US to study and was in the army. When England attacked the colonies, he was in the fight, firing till the end. He was also a nice man. In the later days, Alexander Hamilton became Secretary of Treasury. Then one day he was blown away with some bad news. He was told that his nineteen year old son was going to be in a duel to save his dad’s reputation. A couple days later it was the duel. Philip (who was Alexander’s favorite son) held his fire. What a dumb move! If you are in a life or death situation and you don’t fire your weapon you’re crazy. Who does that? The other man, Eacker, wasn’t hesitant and shot Philip once. Philip died the next day. About three years later, Alexander got into a duel himself. He was battling the Vice President. So, it was the Secretary of the Treasury vs. the Vice President…not a good thing. The turnout wasn’t so good. Alexander’s shot had missed. But Burr’s didn’t. They took Hamilton to his Friends house nearby. There he died the next morning. I liked reading this book. I think everyone should read it.
*
“I thought that Alexander Hamilton: The Outsider was amazing.” There is a term in journalism called “burying the lede.” You have done the opposite of that here. You have exhumed the lede, dressed it up like the winner of a challenge on RuPaul’s Drag Race, and set it on fire. Your reader wants to know what you thought of the book, but you don’t have to give us the full monty on the first date. Tease us, Griffin. Make us work for it. How about: “Alexander Hamilton: The Outsider had a powerful effect on me. I haven’t felt this strongly about a book since Goodnight, Moon.” See how this creates a tension? We don’t know whether your reaction was positive or negative, only that it was strong. (Now given, Goodnight, Moon may not be a good example, as only a baby-eating, Stain’d-listening monster could have a problem with it.)
“I love history and anything about it, especially wars and reading about different people.” Grammatical issue. This implies you love reading about people, but you love actual wars. If this isn’t what you meant, you need to polish up your parallel structures. If it is what you meant, you may be a sociopath.
“[AH] was born in the Caribbean…and he was called an outsider.” If Alexander Hamilton had been born in the Caribbean, he wouldn’t have been called an outsider, but a blan, the Haitian-Creole word for “stranger.” It’s called cultural sensitivity, Griffin. Being eleven is no excuse for being a chauvinist asshole.
“[AH] was also a nice man.” At this stage in your review, you began to lose track of your subject, mistaking the man for the book. This is an easy trap to fall into, but also a dangerous one. By this metric, you would likely be a big fan of biographies of Mother Teresa and Martin Luther King, and a vociferous critic of biographies of Hitler and Stalin (unless my suspicion that you’re a sociopath bears out, in which case, the reverse would be true). Either way, don’t forget that the job of the critic is to slowly and carefully weigh the positives against the negatives of the work in question, then focus on the negatives and hammer them over and over again with a series of pithy one-liners.
“Then one day he was blown away with some bad news.” Was he? Was he totally blown away? Wasn’t it, like, awesome? How totally, like, blown away he was? Jesus Q. Christ, Griffin. This isn’t Happy Hour at Chili’s or rush week at a sorority or Los Angeles! This is a serious work of criticism! Please refrain from any informal language or slang.
“What a dumb move! If you are in a life or death situation and you don’t fire your weapon you’re crazy.” First off, technically this is a dumb non-move. Secondly, in light of recent events surrounding Florida’s “Stand Your Ground” laws and a certain George Zimmerman, I think you’re being more than a little bit inconsiderate. Also, this sentence seems to provide further corroboration of the possible mental problem I ascribed to you earlier. What constitutes a life or death situation, Griffin? Any time you’re afraid? Have you considered the possibility that Alexander Hamilton simply didn’t want to take the life of another human being? And you call that weakness? Perhaps you ought to look into the philosophy of Mahatma Gandhi. Or else electroshock therapy.
“The turnout wasn’t so good.” Were they selling tickets, Griffin? Were there bleachers? It seems you can’t imagine why anyone would pass up the chance to attend an event such as this one. To watch two grown men go at each other like animals. To see the crimson spurt, almost like a blossom, as the bullet found its mark, the face turning ashen as the eyes began to perceive a spectral realm beyond the material, the juxtaposition of the hot blood still pumping strong in your eleven-year-old veins and the slowing and eventual cessation of the pulse of another living creature, experiencing an excitement that is not quite sexual but isn’t entirely unsexual either? Would that be a fair assessment of the situation, Griffin?
“I liked reading this book. I think everyone should read it.” The assumption that everyone would get the same sadistic, erotic charge from this violent biography is the final nail in the coffin regarding your mental health. For shame, Griffin C. For shame.
Grade for your review: C- (don’t forget to run a grammar check before handing in any future assignments)
Grade for your humanity: F (go live in a cabin in the woods and never speak to another human being again)
Tags: children, griffin you’re garbage, humor, publication standards, submission standards, tommy wallach, writing
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Whatever, Griffin, when I was eleven I read a Cat Who book and wrote a book report on it that included the phrase “penchant for solving mysteries” and read it aloud to my class. Let’s hang out. We can talk about grisly murders, both fictional and non-.
When I was 10, I discovered a “Famous Women” series of books in the Non Fiction section of my elementary school library that would for sure be considered too scandalous for public schools in my state to carry today. My favorites were the one about Katharine Hepburn (which was FANTASTIC) and the one about Frida Kahlo, which discussed her bus accident, relationship with Diego Rivera, and her most famous works/their inspiration in greeeeaaaat detail. I spent hours memorizing the prints of her paintings in the back of the book. I also became a little obsessed with Helen Keller after reading the book about her. I’m pretty sure that book series was the start of me writing any and every paper I could on notable/should-be-notable women and/or feminist literature for the rest of my academic career.
Papers on “notable men” traffic in lies. Everyone knows there is no such thing.
So very, very true. I never wrote about men in school unless I couldn’t get around it.
I think I remember that series! I worked my way through them, or something very like them, at about the same age. I picked up the one about Betty Friedan one day and when my very conservative parents saw it in the library stack, they frowned and my father gently told me that maybe I should talk to my mother some time about “all that sort of thing.”
I don’t remember if I ever read the book or not. 🙁 I may have just picked up one of the 30 Babysitters’ Club books I probably carted home at the same time instead.
Re: Helen Keller.
After reading a book about her, I was convinced I would go blind. So I took to walking around my grandparent’s basement at 3 am. Years later, each apartment I live in gets the Helen Keller treatment. I’ve been doing that for 40 years now. No sign of blindness, but I can walk around my new apartment eyes closed or at 2am … . I used to tell people I have cat-like eyes, now I just tell the actual, horrible truth. */drama!*
“So, it was the Secretary of the Treasury vs. the Vice President…not a good thing”
This also happens to be Griffin’s assessment of the whiskey-fueled wrestling match that Joe Biden and Tim Geithner got into at the 2012 White House Christmas party, after Biden accused Geithner of “harshing his mellow”.
President of Vice indeed.
And this is a perfect example of why I would have made a terrible teacher. I would have graded like this until they hauled me away for electroshock therapy.
“To see the crimson spurt, almost like a blossom, as the bullet found its mark, the face turning ashen as the eyes began to perceive a spectral realm beyond the material, the juxtaposition of the hot blood still pumping strong in your eleven-year-old veins and the slowing and eventual cessation of the pulse of another living creature, experiencing an excitement that is not quite sexual but isn’t entirely unsexual either?”
::slow clap::
I…I know someone who grades just like this. Or at least, I imagine him grading papers like this. He teaches at the college level. But it would be far more entertaining if he taught elementary school.
Was he? Was he totally blown away?…Jesus Q. Christ, Griffin.
I…I know someone who grades just like this. Or at least, I imagine him grading papers like this. He teaches at the college level. But it would be far more entertaining if he taught elementary school.
Was he? Was he totally blown away?…Jesus Q. Christ, Griffin.
I read this in the voice of Stewie. I think the name Griffin subliminally tipped me off.
I read this in the voice of Stewie. I think the name Griffin subliminally tipped me off.
In 10th grade, my English Honors teacher thought it would be “fun” for the class to pair up and grade each other’s papers – a great plan, except it turns out that when you put a bunch of awful pretentious dirt-bag teens in charge of each other’s grades, you wind up with exactly this, and then an angry lecture about why “I AM NEVER PUTTING ANY OF YOU IN A POSITION OF RESPONSIBILITY EVER AGAIN.”
Was this someone new to the teaching profession? Because c’mon, dude.
Almost samesies! My 10th grade English teacher had us give anonymous feedback on each other’s oral presentations. You know, because public speaking isn’t terrifying enough. She didn’t even vet the feedback cards, so it was kind of a mix of this article and the world’s worst unmoderated comment section.
Oh god, that reminds me of when my 9th grade health teacher thought we could handle an “anonymous question box” during sex ed. The flaw in his plan was that he promised us to read each question aloud at the start of class and answer it, “no matter how stupid” which, FAMOUS LAST WORDS.
Oh, 10th grade English… I wrote a paper on Bible translation stuff, using all the lefty unorthodox critical thinking I’d learned from my church. All the comments from the Mormon kid I was paired with for peer critique were like “uhhhhh you need to pray about this RIGHT NOW.”
Most of my creative writing assignments that year were about pretty pretty bisexual men, so at least he didn’t have to read those…
So very, very true. I never wrote about men in school unless I couldn't get around it.
I love this grammatical issue.