Bill Clinton’s long-awaited memoir is a pinata of personal ruminations, policies, and justifications. Ranging from the abject poverty of his Arkansas childhood to his eight years at the apex of power as president, the book is a spotlighted lectern for a man who likes to talk.
And that is part of its problem. Henry Kissinger once said that listening to Clinton’s explanations of his policies was often better than the policies themselves. Regrettably, Clinton’s oratorical talents don’t readily translate to his writing skills.
In ’’My Life, ’’ the author’s subtext is ’’Love me and accept my latest explanations. I screwed up, but now I’m doing better.’’ Clinton was a brilliant politician with personal flaws, but his apologies inevitably raise the question of whether he would have admitted these shortcomings if he hadn’t gotten caught in them. Probably, no one would.
Why do so many people around the world care about Bill Clinton? The answer is his potential greatness, and we glimpse that often in this book. We are riven as we watch him teetering on the edge of both success and failure. There is a daring spirit in the great and near-great, whether they turn out to be heroes or rascally sinners. This elan is what distinguishes Clinton from many others. If he had no redeeming graces, we’d say good riddance. At the same time, Clinton’s misuse of his enormous talent is enough to make more than just the author bite his lower lip.
One of the problems in reviewing ’’My Life, ’’ relentlessly hyped for days but with no advance galleys for reviewers, is that the book has been creating its own momentum. The publisher says it sold more than 400, 000 copies nationwide Tuesday, a record for a nonfiction opening.
But what of note is in the book itself? Clinton discusses Monica Lewinsky and how his indiscretions ’’had hurt the presidency.’’ He relives his impeachment trial and criticizes independent counsel Kenneth Starr. He recounts the briefly successful Mideast peace process, explains how Al Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden eluded his administration, and recalls a warning to incoming President Bush about terrorism. Clinton also expresses enmity for former FBI Director Louis Freeh.
As a book, ’’My Life’’ has problems of both style and substance. Stylistically, it’s hard for a reader with a sense of order to figure it out. There is no table of contents. Perhaps the editor couldn’t classify the ’’one thing after the other’’ drift into broad themes. There’s a prologue in which Clinton says ’’I always tried to keep things moving in the right direction, to give more people a chance to live their dreams, to lift people’s spirits, and to bring them together.’’ From there it’s headlong into chapters ’’One’’ through ’’Fifty-Five.’’ In an epilogue, Clinton attempts to summarize in 3 1/2 pages what you already read.
Rest is upto you. Read it to know it. I am sorry if there are any ardent Clint fans around.... Anyways, I join u in liking this person, not the writer.