Hans Kohlhase, Michael Kohlhaas, and Coalhouse Walker

Mr. Mitchell hinted at the end of the class period today that although Coalhouse Walker is not a historical
figure like J.P. Morgan or Emma Goldman, he is also not purely Doctorow’s invention. I looked into this
a bit further, and found that in 1808, the German author Heinrich von Kleist published a novella called
“Michael Kohlhaas”, whose story is strikingly similar to Coalhouse Walker’s. The novella is based on the
experiences of a man named Hans Kohlhase.

Kohlhase (the real person), a merchant, was travelling in the October of 1532 when his horses were
seized by a nobleman named Junker von Zaschwitz, as a supposed fee for travelling through the area.
Kohlhase was furious and sought justice through the court system, but was foiled by corruption and
Junker’s powerful connections. He put out a public challenge to Junker, and began burning down
houses and plundering villages in the area when Junker did not acquiesce. Martin Luther himself tried
to stop Kohlhase, but was unsuccessful. In 1540, Kohlhase was captured and sentenced to death.

Heinrich von Kleist builds on this story a bit. In his novella, Michael Kohlhaas’s horses are not only
seized, but put to work and mistreated. Kohlhaas sues for the cost of their medical treatment, but gets
the same response as Kohlhase. His wife attempts to deliver a petition for his aid to an important
official, but is struck down by a guard and dies from her injuries. Kohlhaas, seeing no other options,
begins a private war against Junker. He destroys his castle and kills his servants, but fails to capture the
nobleman (who has fled). Martin Luther intervenes on Kohlhaas’s behalf, but Junker’s power and
connections save him again. Eventually, Kohlhaas is captured, tried, and killed. As he is being led to
his death, he learns that Junker will finally be brought to justice.

There are so many parallels between these stories and Coalhouse Walker’s that it’s hard to know where
to start. The first similarity that jumped out at me was the name. “Kohle” is the German word for coal,
and “haas” and “hase” are similar to “Haus”, the word for house. Von Kleist’s Kohlhaas becomes
Doctorow’s Coalhouse. In terms of plot, both men have their means of transportation seized as a
supposed toll or travelling fee, and after attempting to bring the other person to justice through
traditional means, turn to a form of vigilante justice that involves murder and the destruction of
property. The fictional Kohlhaas’s revenge particularly resembles Coalhouse’s, with the castle being
analogous to the firestation, and the servants to the other firefighters. Kohlhaas’s wife also dies in the
same way as Sarah.

This whole situation is incredibly postmodernist. Von Kleist took a historical figure and turned him
into the fictional protagonist of a novella. Doctorow then incorporated a variation on this same
historical figure/fictional character into a second novel that blurs the lines of fiction and reality even
further. And even though von Kleist’s novella is based on fact to a much greater degree than Ragtime,
it almost feels like he’s using a similar approach to Doctorow. The Martin Luther tried to help
Kohlhaas? Apparently.

This also brings up the question of transworld identity. If an author takes a historical figure or a character from another book and incorporates them into their own story, are they the same person in each medium, or are they different? To what extent are Hans Kohlhase, Michael Kohlhaas, and Coalhouse Walker the same person? In this case, I am going to say there are fundamental differences particularly between Kohlhase and Kohlhaas’s experiences, and those of Coalhouse Walker. A major one is the role that race plays in the destruction of Coalhouse’s property, and his inability to get justice through the police and courts. That Doctorow breaks from the figures he’s “borrowing” in such a significant way could have many potential interpretations. Is he trying to show that he as the author is in complete control and can do whatever he wants? Maybe. I think it’s also likely that he saw this as an opportunity to make a point about racial inequality in America both in the 1910s and 1970s. Through Coalhouse’s story, he can comment on the progress America had made in the 60 years separating the events of Ragtime from his writing about them, while also showing how far there still was and is to go.