The GeekHiker

Mention the topic of “history” to a lot of people, and you’ll immediately watch their eyes glaze over or roll into the back of their heads. Memories, no matter how distant, of boring lectures and the memorization of rote facts (the ‘ol names, dates and places) will cross their face. Probably mixed with a look of horror.

Unfortunately, this is the result of so many, many history classes being mis-taught, as history, more than any subject perhaps, is the story of people. The story of us.

Had someone told me that when I rented “John Adams” that I would find it not only riveting entertainment (this I somewhat suspected) but that I would, in fact, see some kinship with the title character, I would have thought them stark raving mad.

Oh, who am I kidding. I would have only thought that after running to Wikipedia to refresh my memory of who Adams was, as his name is not quite so well known as Washington, Jefferson, and the like. Oh, yeah, sure, I was an AP History student in high school (heck, I even passed the test), but that was… oh, never you mind how long ago that was.

As a miniseries, John Adams is, in my humble opinion, quite fantastic. Beyond the acting (Paul Giamatti and Laura Linney, ’nuff said), the series shows the initial, floundering steps America took in more realistic terms than one usually sees.

The production design, costuming and effects on the film are universally good. The New England of the time looks probably close to what it was: muddy, dirty, cold, often uncomfortable. Watching what happens to people’s teeth over the 50-year timespan of the film will not only send you running to your dentist, you’ll want to give him a hug out of sheer gratitude.

Even more, the film gives a better sense of the uncertainty of the times than I ever remember being in the history books. The debate between those who wanted to stay with the mother country and those who wanted to rebel. The decisions made and the unsureness behind them. The fact that, as elevated as the status of those at the center of those times today, they were real people, flawed and human, just doing the best that they could in uncertain times.

“John Adams” is history as it should be told. The author of the book on which the film is based, David McCullough, states it best in the short documentary on him on the DVD:

“History is not about dates and quotes and obscure provisos. History is about life. About change. About consequences. Cause and effect. It’s about the mystery of human nature. The mystery of time. And it isn’t just about politics and the military and social issues, which is almost always the way it’s taught. It’s about music and poetry and drama and science and medicine and money and love.”

I started watching on Friday. I finished all nine-plus hours by Sunday. And never lost interest.

* * *

At the center of it all was John Adams. Not a fictional character, but a real man, with all the positive and negative qualities that we all come with. As the series continued, it dawned on me: I was starting to feel a kinship with this man. I understood him.

Not because I’m the things he was. I’m not. I’m no great speaker, I’m not a good lawyer (or even a lawyer, for that matter), I’m not intelligent enough to participate in the birthing of a democracy in an age of monarchies. We certainly don’t look anything alike, either.

Personality-wise, though…

John Adams, seemingly unlike the other pedestal mounted men of the era, was quite imperfect, quite human. He sometimes had a quick temper, as do I, though not to his degree. He sometimes became frustrated when people didn’t understand him, as do I. He could sometimes be a difficult man to deal with as, I suppose, I sometimes am. He could often frustrate even his closest friends, as I know I on rare occasion certainly have.

Adams wasn’t always liked by people, especially when he spoke his mind more fervently, and honestly, than people were comfortable with. On the first page of McCullough’s book* he writes “…he loved to talk. He was a known talker. There were some, even among his admirers, who wished he talked less. He himself wished he talked less…”

I know that exact feeling. So often I have been in social situations, talking more than I should, with a little voice in my head screaming “shut up, Shut Up, SHUT UP!”, but seemingly unable to stop myself.

If McCullough’s portrait of Adams is anywhere near accurate to who the man was, then I sense a kindred spirit in him. I’d like to think that we were and are both, sometimes, difficult to know, but worth knowing nonetheless.

* * *

There was, however, one difference between Adams and I: Abigail Adams.

You see, “John Adams” isn’t just a film about history. It’s also the story of John and Abigail Adams. If ever there was a couple that embodied “behind every successful man, there stands a woman”, it was this couple.

They left behind their significant correspondence, written during the times Adams was in Philadelphia or Europe. Letters sent over years being apart, showing now their relationship: one of mutual admiration and respect. Two people who not only loved each other, but supported each other, intellectually challenged each other, worked through difficult times for each other.

In some areas, Abigail was even more talented than her husband: she got along with people better, and read them better. She was her husband’s chief political advisor, his rock, his sounding board, often his conscience.

The thing is that, for all his flaws, Abigail loved her husband. Even when those flaws frustrated her, angered her, she still cared about him, for more than 50 years of marriage. And that with significant time spent apart.

I’ve admitted before that I am, at times, an unabashed romantic, no matter how hard I sometimes try to suppress it. I won’t give it away here, but the words Adams wrote to his wife, spoken aloud by Giamatti at the end of the film, show that he and I were alike in that respect as well.

I suppose that’s what we all need in life: an Abigail who will be at our side, not just in spite of our flaws, but because of them, and make us a better person for it.

* * *

*Which, yes, has most definitely moved to the top of my reading list.