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Los Angeles Times, CA
July 14, 2013 Sunday
Home Edition
BOOK REVIEW;
Narcissism rules in 'This Town'
by David Lauter, Lauter is The Times' Washington bureau chief.
This Town
Two Parties and a Funeral -- Plus Plenty of Valet Parking! -- in
America's Gilded Capital
Mark Leibovich
Blue Rider Press: 386 pp
--
Political scientist Louis Brownlow once famously lauded Franklin D.
Roosevelt's advisors' "passion for anonymity." Gone are the days.
Today's Washington operatives more closely resemble Norma Desmond in
"Sunset Blvd." -- characters consumed by their own stardom, however
pretend, always "ready for my close-up." These are the personalities
and the city Mark Leibovich describes in "This Town: Two Parties and a
Funeral -- Plus Plenty of Valet Parking! -- in America's Gilded
Capital."
"This Town," he writes, is a place where "self-pimping has become the
prevailing social and business imperative," where "self becomes fused
with brands" and where, quoting the late White House spokesman Tony
Snow, "no one takes friendship too personally." The figures Leibovich
paints -- some well known, others utterly obscure -- are grotesque,
profoundly needy people whose egos demand constant reinforcement.
Several eagerly cooperated with Leibovich's reporting, flaunting their
connections in hopes of winning prominent mention in a book about how
people in Washington flaunt their connections.
As Leibovich notes, their circles are his as well. A staff writer for
the New York Times Magazine, where some of the material already has
appeared, and formerly a reporter at the Washington Post, he has spent
years honing his skill at writing incisive profiles. That work has
given him access to the book's subjects -- a collection of lobbyists,
high-profile journalists and the sort of former senior government
officials who seem to thrive for years providing vague "consulting"
services.
He limns them with great skill. Often a single line will do.
Former Rep. Richard A. Gephardt of Missouri, the onetime Democratic
presidential hopeful and friend of organized labor, now a lobbyist,
got $70,000 a month from the government of Turkey to block a
congressional resolution condemning the slaughter of Armenians in
1915.
"Genocide goes down a little easier at those rates," Leibovich writes.
Or listen in as former Sen. Bob Kerrey (D-Neb.) describes how he
considered taking the top job at the Motion Picture Assn. of America
for an annual salary of more than $1 million. "I don't give a ...
about piracy," Leibovich quotes Kerrey as saying, "but for that money,
I have to admit, I started getting a little interested in piracy."
In the end, the job went to another former Democratic senator, Chris
Dodd, who had said repeatedly that he would not lobby when he left
Congress. Explaining his $1.2-million change of heart, Dodd shows no
contrition. He had made the no-lobbying pledge "before this
opportunity was on the radar screen," he says.
In other cases, an anecdote illustrates the unrelenting
self-absorption of Leibovich's characters.
The late ambassador Richard C. Holbrooke was desperately trying to get
a meeting with President Obama. Blocked by officials at the National
Security Council, he hoped to enlist the help of Obama's strategist,
David Axelrod. First, however, he had to get to see Axelrod. That
meant lobbying his scheduler, Eric Lesser. So Holbrooke confronted
Lesser in a White House men's room, pressing his case as the two stood
at urinals.
Then there is Terry McAuliffe, the former chairman of the Democratic
National Committee, prominent (and constantly self-proclaimed) "Friend
of Bill" and current candidate for governor of Virginia who serves as
one of the book's recurrent characters. Early on, Leibovich tells
readers all they really need to know.
"McAuliffe made his mark as one of the most irrepressible money men in
American political history," he writes. "So committed is the Macker to
his art that he even stopped off at a fundraiser on the way home from
the hospital with his wife, Dorothy, after she gave birth to their
newborn son, Peter. Dorothy stayed in the car, crying, while the baby
slept and the Macker did his thing. 'I felt bad for Dorothy,' he would
later write, 'But it was a million bucks for the Democratic Party.' "
Such gems provide this book's strength. Its weaknesses come when
Leibovich grabs for Deeper Meaning.
In American popular culture, politics used to figure mostly as a
setting for morality plays involving elected officials -- "Mr. Smith
Goes to Washington" or "Advise & Consent" being the archetypes. But at
least since the Bill Clinton era, a succession of stories from "The
War Room" to "The West Wing" to "Game Change" has turned lower-level
operatives into celebrities.
That newfound fame, coupled with the endless hours of cable airtime
begging to be filled, has helped swell the ranks of those who populate
Washington's greenrooms, Leibovich correctly notes. That change, in
turn, has helped give rise to a Washington media culture of "buzz"
that rewards rumormongering, however baseless; speculation, however
foolish; and celebrity, however vapid.
Not incidentally, it has created a market for a book that critiques
and lampoons that celebrity even as it feeds off it.
What Leibovich leaves unsaid, however, is how few of the people he
writes about actually matter outside their own self-obsessed social
circles. Washington has many tribal cultures. The tribe Leibovich
writes about consists mostly of nonideological back-scratchers and
deal makers. But Washington is an increasingly ideological capital
that makes very few deals anymore.
Over the last generation, the most consequential change in Washington
has been the huge energies and immense sums that have poured into
organizations designed to define rigid ideological rules for each
party and punish elected officials who stray beyond the bounds. The
"gridlock" that so many Americans profess to dislike about Washington
owes far more to those ideological warriors than to the preening
talking heads who flit from greenroom to greenroom.
The people Leibovich profiles live to pontificate about process, not
to fight over substance. The only parties they care about take place
in the evening and feature drinks. His skillful depiction of their
warts would have been stronger had he more openly dealt with the
limits of their influence.
From: Baghdasarian
July 14, 2013 Sunday
Home Edition
BOOK REVIEW;
Narcissism rules in 'This Town'
by David Lauter, Lauter is The Times' Washington bureau chief.
This Town
Two Parties and a Funeral -- Plus Plenty of Valet Parking! -- in
America's Gilded Capital
Mark Leibovich
Blue Rider Press: 386 pp
--
Political scientist Louis Brownlow once famously lauded Franklin D.
Roosevelt's advisors' "passion for anonymity." Gone are the days.
Today's Washington operatives more closely resemble Norma Desmond in
"Sunset Blvd." -- characters consumed by their own stardom, however
pretend, always "ready for my close-up." These are the personalities
and the city Mark Leibovich describes in "This Town: Two Parties and a
Funeral -- Plus Plenty of Valet Parking! -- in America's Gilded
Capital."
"This Town," he writes, is a place where "self-pimping has become the
prevailing social and business imperative," where "self becomes fused
with brands" and where, quoting the late White House spokesman Tony
Snow, "no one takes friendship too personally." The figures Leibovich
paints -- some well known, others utterly obscure -- are grotesque,
profoundly needy people whose egos demand constant reinforcement.
Several eagerly cooperated with Leibovich's reporting, flaunting their
connections in hopes of winning prominent mention in a book about how
people in Washington flaunt their connections.
As Leibovich notes, their circles are his as well. A staff writer for
the New York Times Magazine, where some of the material already has
appeared, and formerly a reporter at the Washington Post, he has spent
years honing his skill at writing incisive profiles. That work has
given him access to the book's subjects -- a collection of lobbyists,
high-profile journalists and the sort of former senior government
officials who seem to thrive for years providing vague "consulting"
services.
He limns them with great skill. Often a single line will do.
Former Rep. Richard A. Gephardt of Missouri, the onetime Democratic
presidential hopeful and friend of organized labor, now a lobbyist,
got $70,000 a month from the government of Turkey to block a
congressional resolution condemning the slaughter of Armenians in
1915.
"Genocide goes down a little easier at those rates," Leibovich writes.
Or listen in as former Sen. Bob Kerrey (D-Neb.) describes how he
considered taking the top job at the Motion Picture Assn. of America
for an annual salary of more than $1 million. "I don't give a ...
about piracy," Leibovich quotes Kerrey as saying, "but for that money,
I have to admit, I started getting a little interested in piracy."
In the end, the job went to another former Democratic senator, Chris
Dodd, who had said repeatedly that he would not lobby when he left
Congress. Explaining his $1.2-million change of heart, Dodd shows no
contrition. He had made the no-lobbying pledge "before this
opportunity was on the radar screen," he says.
In other cases, an anecdote illustrates the unrelenting
self-absorption of Leibovich's characters.
The late ambassador Richard C. Holbrooke was desperately trying to get
a meeting with President Obama. Blocked by officials at the National
Security Council, he hoped to enlist the help of Obama's strategist,
David Axelrod. First, however, he had to get to see Axelrod. That
meant lobbying his scheduler, Eric Lesser. So Holbrooke confronted
Lesser in a White House men's room, pressing his case as the two stood
at urinals.
Then there is Terry McAuliffe, the former chairman of the Democratic
National Committee, prominent (and constantly self-proclaimed) "Friend
of Bill" and current candidate for governor of Virginia who serves as
one of the book's recurrent characters. Early on, Leibovich tells
readers all they really need to know.
"McAuliffe made his mark as one of the most irrepressible money men in
American political history," he writes. "So committed is the Macker to
his art that he even stopped off at a fundraiser on the way home from
the hospital with his wife, Dorothy, after she gave birth to their
newborn son, Peter. Dorothy stayed in the car, crying, while the baby
slept and the Macker did his thing. 'I felt bad for Dorothy,' he would
later write, 'But it was a million bucks for the Democratic Party.' "
Such gems provide this book's strength. Its weaknesses come when
Leibovich grabs for Deeper Meaning.
In American popular culture, politics used to figure mostly as a
setting for morality plays involving elected officials -- "Mr. Smith
Goes to Washington" or "Advise & Consent" being the archetypes. But at
least since the Bill Clinton era, a succession of stories from "The
War Room" to "The West Wing" to "Game Change" has turned lower-level
operatives into celebrities.
That newfound fame, coupled with the endless hours of cable airtime
begging to be filled, has helped swell the ranks of those who populate
Washington's greenrooms, Leibovich correctly notes. That change, in
turn, has helped give rise to a Washington media culture of "buzz"
that rewards rumormongering, however baseless; speculation, however
foolish; and celebrity, however vapid.
Not incidentally, it has created a market for a book that critiques
and lampoons that celebrity even as it feeds off it.
What Leibovich leaves unsaid, however, is how few of the people he
writes about actually matter outside their own self-obsessed social
circles. Washington has many tribal cultures. The tribe Leibovich
writes about consists mostly of nonideological back-scratchers and
deal makers. But Washington is an increasingly ideological capital
that makes very few deals anymore.
Over the last generation, the most consequential change in Washington
has been the huge energies and immense sums that have poured into
organizations designed to define rigid ideological rules for each
party and punish elected officials who stray beyond the bounds. The
"gridlock" that so many Americans profess to dislike about Washington
owes far more to those ideological warriors than to the preening
talking heads who flit from greenroom to greenroom.
The people Leibovich profiles live to pontificate about process, not
to fight over substance. The only parties they care about take place
in the evening and feature drinks. His skillful depiction of their
warts would have been stronger had he more openly dealt with the
limits of their influence.
From: Baghdasarian