*Warning* This will be by no means a complete review of Mary Trump’s new book Too much and never enough. My copy dropped at 9 last night, I spent a solid four hours at it, and am not even 20% of the way through. Yet even in that short time, I came across several things I think you’ll find interesting.
Mary Trump is an established writer. Not only has she written professional papers and articles, but her very profession as a clinical psychologist means she spends long hours working on charts and records. When analyzing Trump, she writes precisely and dispassionately, thoroughly professional, yet still slips enough common English into the psycho babble that you can comprehend it. In one blistering six page indictment, Trump laid out at least a half a dozen mental and psychological conditions that her uncle could confidently be diagnosed with it you did nothing more than go down the check list for each condition.
But when Mary writes about personal reminiscences, she has a dry, snidely sarcastic and wicked sense of humor that draws you into the narrative immediately. When Mary regales you with a family story, she writes in a way that makes it seem as though she’s whispering it in your ear behind her hand while the person is right in the room. The way she personalizes the stories makes them that much more entertaining, and I lost count of how many times I said, Hey Teri! Listen to this!
The book starts with a prologue, read it. The prologue begins with a long recital of a 2017 birthday party that Mary attended at the White House for her aunts. Mary sarcastically makes sure to compliment her uncle on his generosity for comping the guests one night at his Washington hotel to attend the party. It’s chock full of examples of just how ridiculous the family really is. In one scene, during dinner in the executive dining room upstairs, midway through the dinner, Jared Kushner strides through the doors, and over to whisper imperiously in Trump’s ear. Ar his appearance, Ivanka bounced up and down in her chair, clapping her hands and squealing, Oh, look! Jared’s back from his trip to the Middle East! Mary found this to be slightly ridiculous, since everybody had just seen Kushner in the Oval Office a half hour before.
Mary makes it clear that in order to really understand the psychology and mentality of Trump and the first family, you have to look at the pathology of the family he and his siblings grew up in. And Trump sets out to provide a precise, chronological family history of a truly dysfunctional family unit. But even in that dry study, there were two examples of irony that were so stunning that they literally reached up off of the page and slapped me in the face. And i had to impart them to you..
The first one deals with Donald Trump’s ancestry. In 1886, a brash young 18 year old lad named Freidrich Trump left his small town in Germany, and emigrated to America to make his way in the world. What could make an 18 year old travel halfway around the world in an age well before the conveniences of air travel? Simple. It turns out that Freidrich didn’t feel like staying around in Germany to perform his two compulsory years of military service, so he boogies. Yeah, that’s right. We ended up with a chickenshit draft dodger in the White House only because his grandfather was a chickenshit draft dodger. God, life is unfair!
But it gets even more ironic. Turns out that Freidrich was a pretty good builder, he made some money, and in 1905, he took his then pregnant wife, and two year old daughter, and went back to Germany to repatriate. Only to be told by the authorities that he couldn’t return without performing his military service. So he packed everybody up and returned to New York. I can’t help but think that if Freidrich Trump had just grown a pair and saluted for two years, we would have been able to see how Der Donald fared in a general election match up against Angela Merkel instead of Hillary Clinton. That would have been fun.
The second example of extreme irony involves not only Trump’s grandfather, but his grandmother and father as well. If in fact Trump fails to win a second term in November, one of the major factors will have been his pathetic bungling of the coronavirus pandemic. Trump has steadfastly refused to acknowledge the fact that the virus even exists, continuing to call it a hoax.
When he was 15 years old, Donald Trump’s father, Fred Trump Sr got the opportunity of a lifetime. Fred’s mother, Donald’s grandmother, recognizing her son’s aptitude for the work, became his real estate business partner, bring in an initial investment of what would be about $300,000 in today’s money. How did a woman come by that kind of nut in turn of the century New York? It was the estate that her husband Freidrich left her when he was killed in the fucking Spanish flu pandemic of 1918! That’s right. Fred Trump Sr begat the family fortune his son has so sadly pissed away with the money he got from his mother when his father died in the last great pandemic until the one his own son refuses to acknowledge even exists today. It doesn’t get much more ironic than that.
As you may have already surmised, I am all in on this book. And that’s not like me, I seldom read tell alls. But Mary Trump is doing much more than just spend a few hundred pages hurling dirt at her family members. She sincerely sees her uncle as an incredibly dangerous man, and rather than just scream about it, she is instead laying out a sound, logical, clinical case for why he is so dangerous. And that alone is worth the $14.95. I’ll be back with more later, as I get farther along.
To know the future, look to the past.before the insanity of the 2020 election, relive the insanity of the 2016 GOP primary campaign, and the general election, to see how we got to where we are. Copies of President Evil, and the sequel, President Evil II, A Clodwork Orange are available as e-books on Amazon, at the links above. Catch up before the upcoming release of the third book in the trilogy, President Evil III: All The Presidents Fen
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