Yesterday the dustupping staff happened upon Norman Mailer’s essay Clinton and Dole: The War of the Oxymorons, which ran in the cuppa coffee George magazine, and came across this digression about Hillary Rodham Clinton at the 1996 Democratic National Convention that nominated The Bubba to run for a second term as president.
One could see why so many Americans disliked her. She was decompressing the presidency. She was pretending to be near to the people, but the nature of her position made that impossible. We laugh at the English royals when they pay their visits to factory workers, but at least they remain royal. Hillary was pretending she was one of us, and it was hardly true.
Back to Mailer:
During the half hour she spoke, there were more than seventy references to children, to mother and father, to family. It no longer had anything to do with politics. There she was, absolutely in place, ice-blond, a saint to her gender even as she proceeded to talk about PTA solutions to profound problems.
And the kicker:
None of the real questions came into her purview, nothing about the sleazy quality of so many American products advertised to the hilt, nothing trenchant about the waste of the ghettos, the paucity of good wages among working people, the fever of global capitalism to send the profits to the top rather than sharing some of the wealth with those who made the stuff.
(To be fair graf goes here)
To be fair, Clinton does give lip service to the latter two these days, but she still is very much “absolutely in place, ice-blond, a saint to her gender even as she [proceeds] to talk about PTA solutions to profound problems.”
Plus ça change, non?