Myth-Making and Selective Memory in Alexandra Petri’s US History

Thematic Claim: History as a Script We Rewrite

In Alexandra Petri’s US History, myth-making and selective memory are not just byproducts of storytelling—they are deliberate tools that shape how Americans understand their past. Petri argues that historical narratives are chosen, simplified, and branded to serve convenience, patriotism, or political agendas, often at the expense of inconvenient facts. The book’s satirical method exposes the machinery behind these myths, from poetic license that erases participants to marketing meetings that rename compromises. The result is a history built on omissions and rebrandings, where what is remembered often depends on what rhymes, sells, or absolves.

Three Pillars of Myth-Making

1. Longfellow’s Paul Revere: Poetic Convenience Erases Samuel Prescott

Chapter 8, “Listen My Children and You Shall Hear of the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere and Also Samuel Prescott Who Was There Too Even If His Name Doesn’t Rhyme as Well,” directly tackles the tension between poetic form and historical accuracy. Petri imagines Longfellow struggling to include Samuel Prescott, who actually completed the ride to Concord, because “his name is nothing like Paul Revere” and “makes it so hard to rhyme and scan.” The poem’s success depends on excluding Prescott and, later, William Dawes. Petri’s faux-draft shows Longfellow giving up: “And who remembers those far-off days? / Let them be lost in our memory’s haze!” The myth of the solo midnight rider is born from a desire for elegant verse. This chapter establishes that even beloved patriotic poems are acts of selective memory, silencing those who don’t fit the meter.

2. The Corrupt Bargain: A Branding Session for History

Chapter 30, “Branding Session for the Corrupt Bargain of 1877,” presents a mock corporate meeting where historical actors decide what to call the deal that ended Reconstruction. The satirist’s central joke is that the term “Corrupt Bargain” accurately describes the trade—federal withdrawal for a presidency—but the branders insist it hurts their “Lost Cause” narrative. They have already rebranded the Confederacy as “The Lost Cause,” Northern opportunists as “carpetbaggers,” and Southern whites who collaborated as “scalawags.” Now they want a neutral name like “Compromise of 1877” to confuse readers. Petri exposes how branding (here literalized as a marketing strategy) shapes historical memory, turning violent suppression of Black citizenship into something palatable. The chapter’s final note on the confusing Electoral Count Act hints that such framing is still at work today.

3. Fairy Tales as Greed Myths: Tom Wolfe’s New Journalism

Chapter 73, “Fairy Tales, by Tom Wolfe,” applies the style of New Journalism to classic fairy tales, recasting Little Red Riding Hood, Goldilocks, and the Three Little Pigs as parables of unapologetic American greed. The narrator explicitly links the characters’ behavior to the 1980s ethos of consumption and entitlement, reframing greed as “the unspoken four-letter word behind American exceptionalism.” By rewriting familiar stories through an ideological lens, Petri shows that myth-making operates not only on historical events but on the cultural fables that shape national identity. These tales, once moral warnings, become celebrations of taking what you want—a selective memory that forgets the original cautionary purpose.

Character and Symbol Connections

The theme of myth-making touches several of Petri’s recurring characters. George Washington appears in the surreal Ragnarok (Chapter 75) as a figure reduced to false teeth that become soldiers—a literal dismantling of the cherry-tree myth. Abraham Lincoln is parodied in Chapter 25, “The Gettysburg Address, by Aaron Sorkin,” where his concise speech is bloated with self-important asides, demonstrating how later storytellers add their own agendas to iconic moments. Theodore Roosevelt is mythologized as a berserker, and Mark Twain appears as a satirist who would appreciate the absurdity. The symbol the Thing That Ate Herbert Hoover reflects how economic disasters are remembered through monstrous metaphors rather than policy details—a perfect emblem of selective memory.

Complexity and Contradiction

Petri doesn’t simply condemn all myth-making; she acknowledges its persuasive power and occasional necessity. The Longfellow poem, however inaccurate, inspires pride. The “branding session” chapter admits that the Lost Cause mythology was effective propaganda—disturbing but rhetorically successful. Even the fairy-tale revision is entertaining. The contradiction lies in the fact that myths can unite even as they deceive. Petri’s own satire creates new, intentionally absurd myths (like the tall tale of Trey Treyverson in Chapter 42) to critique the originals, showing that myth-making is an inescapable part of storytelling. The book’s title itself—“Important American Documents (I Made Up)”—embraces the fabricated nature of history, inviting readers to question all authoritative narratives.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How does Longfellow’s omission of Samuel Prescott illustrate the tension between poetry and history?
   Answer: Petri shows that poetic constraints—rhyme and meter—force Longfellow to exclude Prescott because his name does not scan as easily as “Revere.” The result is a national myth that credits one man while erasing the contributions of others, prioritizing aesthetic appeal over factual completeness.

2. In what way does the “Corrupt Bargain of 1877” branding session reveal how language shapes historical memory?
   Answer: The satirical meeting demonstrates that historical events are renamed to serve political narratives. The term “Corrupt Bargain” is accurate but branded as unhelpful because it highlights the unethical trade, whereas neutral-sounding names like “Compromise of 1877” would obscure the end of Reconstruction and the betrayal of Black citizens.

3. What does the fairy-tale chapter (73) suggest about the relationship between myth-making and American values?
   Answer: By rewriting fairy tales as celebrations of greed, Petri argues that American exceptionalism is built on selective memory that reframes selfishness as ambition. The original moral lessons are forgotten so the stories can reinforce a culture of consumption and entitlement, especially during the 1980s.

4. How does Petri’s own satire participate in myth-making even as it criticizes it?
   Answer: The book invents new documents and tall tales (e.g., the Trey Treyverson story in Chapter 42) that are themselves myths, but transparently so. By making the fabrication obvious, Petri invites readers to see all historical narratives as constructed, including her own, and to maintain skepticism toward any single version of the past.

5. Which symbols in the book best represent selective memory, and why?
   Answer: The Thing That Ate Herbert Hoover transforms a complex economic collapse into a monster, simplifying memory into a catchy image. Similarly, the Rhinoceros Disguise (if used in the book) suggests how uncomfortable truths are hidden behind absurd costumes. Both symbols show history being streamlined for entertainment or political comfort, erasing nuance.