Considering how obsessed liberals are with turning their version of Clinton's impeachment into the historical record, it's interesting how these books spend very little time talking about Clinton's impeachment. In lieu of discussing the facts of his impeachment, Clinton simply makes analogies to grand historical events ? events notable for bearing not the remotest relationship to his own sordid story.
Clinton claims, for example, that conservatives decided to target him in lieu of the Soviet Union after the Cold War ended and conservatives needed a new villain. In other words, Clinton is equating himself, in scale and importance, to the Soviet Union, the global communist conspiracy and the Marxist-Leninist Revolution. Nope, no ego problem there. ("My Life" was Clinton's second choice title, after the publisher balked at naming the book "I Am God, and You Are All My Subjects.")
Alternatively, Clinton claims conservatives hated him because he represented "the '60s." As is now well-known, four lawyers, toiling away after hours and on weekends, worked quietly behind the scenes to propel the Paula Jones case to the Supreme Court and bring Monica Lewinsky to the attention of the independent counsel. All four of us were 5 to 8 years old when Bill Clinton graduated from Georgetown in 1968. (Actually, it was the '70s that I really hated, but that's another column for another day.)
So I'm pretty sure it wasn't our anger about "the '60s" that inspired feelings of contempt for Bill Clinton. It must have been something else ? some ineffable quality. Let's see, what was it again? Ah yes! I remember now! It was that Clinton is a pathological liar and sociopath.
If Clinton wasn't the Soviet Empire or "the '60s," then he was Rosa Parks! Clinton actually compares his battle against impeachment to civil-rights struggles in the South. Haven't blacks been insulted enough by the constant comparison between gay marriage and black civil rights without this horny hick comparing his impeachment to Selma?
And that's when Clinton is even talking about his presidency. From what I've heard, roughly half of Clinton's memoir ? hundreds and hundreds of pages ? is about every picayune detail of his life before becoming president. Through sheer force of will I shall resist the urge to refer to this book as a "blow by blow" account of Clinton's entire miserable existence.
Most presidential memoirs get right to the president part, on the assumption that people would not be interested in, for example, Harry Truman's deal-making as Jackson County executive or Jimmy Carter's initiatives as a state senator in Georgia ? let alone who they took to their junior high school proms. When Ulysses S. Grant wrote his memoirs, he skipped his presidency altogether and just wrote about what would be most interesting to people ? his service as a Civil War commander.
But Clinton thinks people are dying to read 900 pages about his very ordinary life. He views being president as just one more episode in a life that is fascinating in all its stages because he is just so fascinating as a person ? at least to himself. In a perverse way, it's utterly appropriate. What actually happened during the Clinton presidency? No one can remember anything about it except the bimbos, the lies and the felonies. Fittingly, in the final analysis, Clinton will not be remembered for what he did as president, but for who he did.