This Book

I am so conflicted about what to say about This Town.

You’ve probably heard about it: the dishy tell-all book about Washington’s inner workings, a book whose author brings impeccable credentials to the task. He is Mark Leibovich, chief national correspondent for The New York Times Magazine. Formerly, he was the newspaper’s chief national political correspondent, and also worked for the Washington Post.

As you’d expect, Leibovich has had a front-row seat to the nation’s capitol follies. And therein lies the delicious, guilty pleasure of reading “this” book. There’s gossip, hilarious profiles of movers and shakers, a jaded but exuberant perspective on what goes on in DC.

His writing is sharp and riotously funny. Many passages beg to be read aloud. For example, this description of a Senator, at journalist Tim Russert’s funeral, trying to look—well, funereal: “[he] walks slowly into the church and adheres to the distinctive code of posture at the fancy-pants funeral: head bowed, conspicuously biting the lips, squinting extra hard for the full telegenic grief effect.”

Leibovich brings his insider’s eye and dark humor to funerals, parties, political conventions, lunch meetings, and other assorted settings. There’s often a gleeful tone at skewering the bloviating politicians, journalists, lobbyists, and assorted hangers-on. Any reader with curiosity about what really goes on inside the Beltway will enjoy the author’s ringside seat.

But—here’s the thing. When Leibovich looks under the rocks, he sees and write about serious dysfunction in national politics—creepy trends that will send your cynic-o-meter soaring. His main point is not just that politicians have big egos—we knew that—it’s that their motives are hopelessly intertwined with the interests of lobbying firms. The “formers” (former Congressmen, former White House staffers, etc) parlay their access to influence by joining the big K street firms offering fat salaries. Everyone, ultimately, is trying to suck up to someone in power. Journalists are not immune. It seems to be one big, snarled ball of back scratching and self-interest.

Depressed yet? Well, I was, as I read this book. So, I’m conflicted about whether to recommend it. Probably, I do. It’s wonderfully well written and offers a reasoned critique of DC culture. But be prepared to feel hopeless about the system in “this town.” Don’t say I didn’t warn you!