My commentaries will attest that I’m no fan of Bill and/or Hillary Clinton. And, frankly, the way they used and abused Monica Lewinsky – complete with Hillary slut-shaming her as a “narcissistic loony toon” – is the least of it. They have done far worse to far more important people. Remember Lani Guinier? But I digress.
After almost 20 years of letting the Clintons get off on framing her as a pawn in the “vast right-wing conspiracy” to destroy Bill’s presidency, Monica is finally getting off her knees and pursuing her own happy ending.
Her essay “Shame and Survival,” in the June 2014 issue of Vanity Fair, is her first step towards taking back the narrative of her life. Sure enough, reading it one senses none of the self-pitying, lovesick, narcissistic loony tooness the Clintons propagated. Instead, she comes across not only as intelligent, witty, and discreet, but also as a woman eminently capable of giving as good as she gets.
Ironically, her essay vindicates Bill’s attraction. No doubt the voluptuous curves, succulent lips, and vulnerable eyes Monica displays in the spread accompanying her essay must’ve been tempting enough. (Remarkably, she looks more appealing today as a 40-year-old woman than she did when she was Bill’s 25-year-old intern/playmate.) In fact, when it comes to presidential mistresses, Marilyn had nothing on Monica … and Monica lived to tell about it.
But her piece oozes intellectual awareness and emotional sassiness, which explains why even a horndog like Bill spent far more time chatting with her on the phone than he did staining her blue dress in the Oval Office.
Here, for example, is the clever way Monica chastises Hillary for blaming everyone except Bill for the affair that nearly dealt a fatal blow to their 2-for-1 presidency:
Yes, I get it. Hillary Clinton wanted it on record that she was lashing out at her husband’s mistress. She may have faulted her husband for being inappropriate, but I find her impulse to blame the Woman — not only me, but herself — troubling.
It’s easy to see why she thought a re-elected Bill would eventually divorce Hillary and marry her, especially given prevailing accounts about his marriage being more political partnership than intimate relationship.
Except that happily ever after for Bill could only have meant keeping each woman in this three-way relationship right where he had her. And, but for the betrayal of Monica’s Iago-like friend, Linda Tripp, each woman would probably have continued playing her role at his behest – even if begrudgingly.
In any event, Monica sets the record straight with similar cleverness on everything, including her regret about having what she insists was an affair between two consenting adults, why her infamy has made finding a regular job impossible, and the conflict she feels, as a proud Democrat, providing yet more fodder with this essay for Republicans to throw at Hillary during her 2016 presidential campaign. I believe her when she writes that she wishes nothing but the best for the Clintons. And, no matter the facts, Republican attacks on them always seem triggered by some Clinton derangement syndrome.
Incidentally, nobody can doubt that tabloids dangled millions before Monica to tell all. Therefore, nothing belies the caricature of her as a naïve loose canon quite like the self-possession and discretion she showed by refusing to profit off her relationship – like everyone else associated with Bill and Hillary has done. Again, but for that woman, Ms. Tripp, Bill and Hillary would probably be resting assured to this day that his affair with Monica would be kept a closely held secret.
Having said all that, I cannot do Monica’s essay justice. It speaks volumes that her pathological, left-wing critics, like Maureen Dowd of the New York Times, have to conjure up memes from the 1990s to attack it (and her).
Which is why I shall end with what, for me, is the seminal part of her essay. It’s where she upbraids high-profile feminists, like Dowd, for making a mockery of feminist dogma by damning her as a sexual predator, defending Bill like an innocent victim, and deifying Hillary for standing by her man.
I sorely wished for some sign of understanding from the feminist camp. Some good, old-fashioned, girl-on-girl support was much in need. None came.
On this point, Monica and I are soul mates:
I gave up some time ago trying to reason why purportedly liberated women, like Camille Cosby and Hillary Clinton, stand by men who treat them like doormats.
The ardent feminist in me would like to think this simply reflects their evolved understanding that marriage is about a lot more than (sexual) monogamy. But it may be that they are riding so high on the power trip these marriages afford them that they couldn’t care any less how much their husbands betray traditional notions of fidelity.
(“Hypocrisy of Elliot Spitzer’s Assignation with Prostitute,” The iPINIONS Journal, March 11, 2008)
I highly recommend Monica’s coming-out essay. And I wish her well in her endeavors, which probably should include professional writing.
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