The Mountaintop

The revelation of Camae’s true nature is a turning point in the play, not only Humanizing King as a God of History, but humbling him before a literal sacred being. Both a believer of equal rights and a man who fails to acknowledge women’s strengths, King struggles with showing reverence to the two women forcing him to face his mortality (Camae and God). He speaks eloquently about his ongoing relationship with fear as his “companion” and “lover” (27), but his tone changes when Camae reveals he will die the next day. This language complicates his image as a martyr and saint, reinforcing the fact that all humans, even those with love in their heart, are flawed. While flawed, King quickly accepts Camae as a real angel, as well as the existence of God and an afterlife—instead focusing on what his death will mean for his followers and the larger world. He fears death, but more so the idea of his life’s work suffering. In the play and real life, his death is considered a historical event—culminating in the Civil Rights Act of 1968. However, to King’s family, his death is a private pain: Even in her youth, his daughter Berniece (Bunny) prayed to God (and inadvertently, Camae) on his behalf, fearing he would die alone, by white rage.

King is surprised that Camae is unlike any angel he imagined, and in turn, she is continually surprised by his humanity—both his love for people and respective flaws. Both characters are sinners according to Christianity, the religion that bolstered King’s activism in the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. They are also sinners according to Islam, which shaped Malcolm X’s activism until he cut ties with the Nation of Islam (NOI). Now that King faces the same fate as Malcolm X, sin proves less defining than he and Camae expected. With that said, context is important: The play contextualizes King’s behavior, citing exhaustion and stress, but doesn’t excuse his infidelity and sexism. Hall includes these lesser known sins to examine what qualifies as sin, and to show sinners can be saviors. While King’s sins speak to his time period as much as they do his character, Camae’s self-claimed sins are defense mechanisms expected of a vulnerable sex worker—regardless of the time. However, she believes her most serious sin in life was hating herself. As a Black woman in poverty, she saw herself as “the mule of the world” (37). Thus, the play’s version of God, a Black woman herself, teaches Camae to value herself and Blackness by giving her an angelic task.

Despite knowing he will go to heaven as one of God’s favorites, or even a potential husband, King doesn’t want to die—preferring a human life with all its struggles over a promising unknown. Time, emphasized by Ralph Abernathy’s absence, becomes infinitely valuable. With the reveal of Camae’s identity and a wall of snow outside the room, the ongoing thunderstorm—which was measuring time through thunderclaps—suddenly stops. Time seems to have frozen, and with it, the danger symbolized by the storm. Because of Bunny’s prayer, Camae allows King a breath, a moment to accept his death. She claims no man, not even King, can truly finish what he starts—urging Passing the Baton to a new leader, as this practice allows a movement to stay alive. The difficult truth that he must grasp is that his death will push the Civil Rights Movement in a way that his marches can’t. The Efficacy of Nonviolent Protests wanes, but his assassination will evoke righteous anger and force change. As King starts to recognize this power, he wishes he hadn’t been chosen to lead. He claims to have wanted a peaceful life as a minister, but his centering of the future suggests he is an activist at heart, and would have always been, no matter his career. For the sake of his movement, he tries to negotiate for more time to live, but God ultimately ignores him. King is accustomed to pushing boundaries and laws until they give way, but death is non-negotiable. Although the real-life King was exceptional, the play emphasizes that he was only human, as his successors will be. In other words, one doesn’t have to be exceptional to be a leader: They must simply have the courage to pick up another’s baton.

The night before King’s death, he delivered his final sermon—“I’ve Been to the Mountaintop.” The titular mountaintop is the height at which one can see the trajectory of human history, with him anticipating an integrated America. In his sermon, he accepts he may not live to see integration come to fruition—which seems prophetic in hindsight. However, in the face of death, Hall’s fictionalized King negotiates, argues, pillow-fights with an angel, and then weeps in the angel’s arms. The play operates on dramatic irony, with King being told his death but remaining powerless to stop it, and an informed audience knowing his legacy going into the play. Still, Hall’s fictionalized King doesn’t get a chance to leave a note for his followers or have a final phone call with his wife. Out of empathy, Camae takes him to a metaphorical mountaintop, showing him and the audience America’s future in relation to Blackness—culminating in the election of President Barack Obama in 2008. When the storm resumes, it marks the reinstatement of time and King’s impending death. While historic, Obama’s presidency didn’t eradicate racism, so King further treks the metaphorical mountaintop and sees a harmonious world that the audience can’t. In this, the play urges everyone to continue fighting for equality in his and other deceased activists’ steads.