My disappointment in this book is unrivaled in light of the level of anticipation I had for reading this memoir. During the 2016 political campaign and the emergence of Donald J. Trump as a force to be reckoned with, Charles M. Blow took voice with the opposition and became a champion to me for his attacks on this awful man and now his presidency. Blow’s writing for the NY Times is always powerful and poignant. His appearances as a commentator on television prove to be remarkable events in themselves. But sad to say this book is a different story.
One admiring reviewer describes his awe in the author's command and use of the English language.
Not so. But should have been. Too sweet and flowery for my tastes. Didn’t feel honest. And a not-so-admiring reviewer states he may have fire in his bones, but certainly not in his writing. It's tedious and boring and he takes what would be a gripping read of his difficult young life and turned it into a carefully worded, deliberately constructed poetic recitation. I get absolutely no sense of any "fire" whatsoever.
I wish it were not so, but I must concur. And I know why this book fails on par with his articles. It feels as if a different man is speaking on the page. Not the Charles M. Blow I was attracted to. Sort of takes the starch out of his stance.