Going Rogue: An American Life
Chapter 1: The Ass Frontier
Pages 1-6
I wanted to do more than six pages. However, the first six pages are so loaded with weirdness, aching metaphors, florid language, arrogance, self-serving descriptions and more that I couldn't write about anything else.
The book starts out at the Palmer State Fair, with Sarah wandering around ruminating on the various weights of the world that apparently rest upon her shoulders. The book is advertised as a biography of the woman who "burst onto the political stage like a comet." I suppose it is appropriate that it would start out at the same place where said bursting took place. I have to say, walking around inside Sarah's head is surreal experience.
I'd like to rip into the policies that are blatantly alluded to in her tour of the fair, such as the right-to-life booth that is an absurdly prominent feature or shameless way that she parades her children around like trophies or badges of her causes. Actually, I will riff on those things but later. Right now I'm far more fascinated by the way that she shifts into a strange recollection of massively weighty issues in between shaking hands and taking bites of cotton candy. She changes gears from talking to nameless fair-goers to pondering the economic consequences of the pipeline boom as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe I'm totally ignorant of the way that people's thoughts work or I live in the moment too much to think about that kind of stuff but I'd really like to know who in this world REALLY walks around a state fair and thinks about their political journey while looking at giant cabbages.
The walk through the fair actually doesn't take that long. The first (and I think only) stop that she really describes is going to the Right To Life booth. Large vegetables are mentioned along with greasy fair food but it's that hugely political booth that's the feature. It's here that the first (of many I'm sure) instance of her child-usage come up. What is interesting about the walk through the fair is the incredibly florid language that is used. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING has an adjective. When there isn't an adjective there's an excruciating analogy. The sky is 'robin's egg blue', the air has a 'brisk kick'. 'Like a family conga line' she makes her way through the fair. Before long she is (air-quotes) surprised by the Right to Life booth.
"Ahead, on my right, I saw the Alaska Right to Life booth, where a poster caught my eye, taking my breath away. It featured the sweetest baby girl swathed in pink, pretend angel wings fastened to her soft shoulders.
'That's you baby', I whisper to Piper, as I have every yearsince she smiled for the picture as an infant. She popped another cloud of cotton candy into her mouth and looked nonchalant: Still the pro-life poster child at the State Fair. Ho-hum."
The fact that her child is used on a poster or is at the Right To Life booth is mentioned three more times in this small 6-page section. Her other children are not mentioned yet, but trust me they're coming.
In between this, Sarah goes on to think about Reagan, the pipeline boom in the '70s, the fact that she was (is?) a GOP outsider and how she felt so compelled to selflessly run for governor and lay her gentle lamb self down upon the altar of government. The people that go up to greet her are all faceless catchphrase spewers. There is no trouble save for a vague and cheerful 'oh gosh, things are lookin' rough' vibe from the anonymous greeters.
Every time Sarah gazes at, looks at or talks to someone she is reminded of something about herself. For example, going to the RTL booth reminds her how much of a advocate she is for the anti-abortion cause. It also "reminded me [Sarah] of how impatient I am with politics." In one of the more arrogant phrases, Sarah claims that she is "annoyed with her own annoyance" with politics while she signs the RTL guestbook and remarks about how much of an outsider she is to the political game.
She also strokes her ego with a nice bit of self-described foresight.
"Years before, I had seen our state speeding towards economic disaster. Since construction began in 1975...the Trans-Alaska Pipeline... it had grown increasingly obvious to everyday Alaskans (such as dear Sarah!) that many of their public servants were not necessarily serving the public."
An obligatory reference to Reagan is made, remarking on the common sense of his policies and how morally upstanding everything was when he was in charge. During Sarah's page-and-a-half of rumination about the oil boom and political policies, the most agonizing of metaphors is made.
"During the oil boom, anyone who questioned the government's giving more power to the oil companies was condemned: What are you trying to do, slay the golden goose?"
It slays me how the Golden Goose story is so badly misused. In the story the golden goose is an innocent and passive creature who very passively sits on her nest and lays golden eggs until it is slain to better exploit her wonderful gift. It is bizarre and tragically ironic that the oil companies are referred to as the Golden goose. Wouldn't the goose be the delicate environment from which valuable treasures are drawn from? Doesn't it seem that the oil companies have much more in common with the man who wants more and more from the goose (arctic oil fields) to the point where he slices the goose open (despoils the land)? And where in the story does the golden goose ever "rule the roost" and need to be put in its place by a spunky gal from Wasilla who decides to become governor?
As an aside, I haven't read the golden goose story in a while so I may need to be corrected.
The way that it's told, and by the amount of time that spent talking about this I can only imagine that Sarah just stops in her tracks from time to time and stares off into space as she contemplates her lofty place in the universe. It's not until her BlackBerry vibrates that she's shocked back to reality in order to answer the Call Of Destiny. That is, of course, when McCain called to ask her to the movies. I mean, the Vice Presidency.
Okay, that's all I can handle for now. This might take a while. Luckily the next couple of sections deal with actual biography stuff such as growing up in a rural Alaskan town (no, really!) and being a kid. Good stuff.
Pages 1-6
I wanted to do more than six pages. However, the first six pages are so loaded with weirdness, aching metaphors, florid language, arrogance, self-serving descriptions and more that I couldn't write about anything else.
The book starts out at the Palmer State Fair, with Sarah wandering around ruminating on the various weights of the world that apparently rest upon her shoulders. The book is advertised as a biography of the woman who "burst onto the political stage like a comet." I suppose it is appropriate that it would start out at the same place where said bursting took place. I have to say, walking around inside Sarah's head is surreal experience.
I'd like to rip into the policies that are blatantly alluded to in her tour of the fair, such as the right-to-life booth that is an absurdly prominent feature or shameless way that she parades her children around like trophies or badges of her causes. Actually, I will riff on those things but later. Right now I'm far more fascinated by the way that she shifts into a strange recollection of massively weighty issues in between shaking hands and taking bites of cotton candy. She changes gears from talking to nameless fair-goers to pondering the economic consequences of the pipeline boom as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe I'm totally ignorant of the way that people's thoughts work or I live in the moment too much to think about that kind of stuff but I'd really like to know who in this world REALLY walks around a state fair and thinks about their political journey while looking at giant cabbages.
The walk through the fair actually doesn't take that long. The first (and I think only) stop that she really describes is going to the Right To Life booth. Large vegetables are mentioned along with greasy fair food but it's that hugely political booth that's the feature. It's here that the first (of many I'm sure) instance of her child-usage come up. What is interesting about the walk through the fair is the incredibly florid language that is used. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING has an adjective. When there isn't an adjective there's an excruciating analogy. The sky is 'robin's egg blue', the air has a 'brisk kick'. 'Like a family conga line' she makes her way through the fair. Before long she is (air-quotes) surprised by the Right to Life booth.
"Ahead, on my right, I saw the Alaska Right to Life booth, where a poster caught my eye, taking my breath away. It featured the sweetest baby girl swathed in pink, pretend angel wings fastened to her soft shoulders.
'That's you baby', I whisper to Piper, as I have every yearsince she smiled for the picture as an infant. She popped another cloud of cotton candy into her mouth and looked nonchalant: Still the pro-life poster child at the State Fair. Ho-hum."
The fact that her child is used on a poster or is at the Right To Life booth is mentioned three more times in this small 6-page section. Her other children are not mentioned yet, but trust me they're coming.
In between this, Sarah goes on to think about Reagan, the pipeline boom in the '70s, the fact that she was (is?) a GOP outsider and how she felt so compelled to selflessly run for governor and lay her gentle lamb self down upon the altar of government. The people that go up to greet her are all faceless catchphrase spewers. There is no trouble save for a vague and cheerful 'oh gosh, things are lookin' rough' vibe from the anonymous greeters.
Every time Sarah gazes at, looks at or talks to someone she is reminded of something about herself. For example, going to the RTL booth reminds her how much of a advocate she is for the anti-abortion cause. It also "reminded me [Sarah] of how impatient I am with politics." In one of the more arrogant phrases, Sarah claims that she is "annoyed with her own annoyance" with politics while she signs the RTL guestbook and remarks about how much of an outsider she is to the political game.
She also strokes her ego with a nice bit of self-described foresight.
"Years before, I had seen our state speeding towards economic disaster. Since construction began in 1975...the Trans-Alaska Pipeline... it had grown increasingly obvious to everyday Alaskans (such as dear Sarah!) that many of their public servants were not necessarily serving the public."
An obligatory reference to Reagan is made, remarking on the common sense of his policies and how morally upstanding everything was when he was in charge. During Sarah's page-and-a-half of rumination about the oil boom and political policies, the most agonizing of metaphors is made.
"During the oil boom, anyone who questioned the government's giving more power to the oil companies was condemned: What are you trying to do, slay the golden goose?"
It slays me how the Golden Goose story is so badly misused. In the story the golden goose is an innocent and passive creature who very passively sits on her nest and lays golden eggs until it is slain to better exploit her wonderful gift. It is bizarre and tragically ironic that the oil companies are referred to as the Golden goose. Wouldn't the goose be the delicate environment from which valuable treasures are drawn from? Doesn't it seem that the oil companies have much more in common with the man who wants more and more from the goose (arctic oil fields) to the point where he slices the goose open (despoils the land)? And where in the story does the golden goose ever "rule the roost" and need to be put in its place by a spunky gal from Wasilla who decides to become governor?
As an aside, I haven't read the golden goose story in a while so I may need to be corrected.
The way that it's told, and by the amount of time that spent talking about this I can only imagine that Sarah just stops in her tracks from time to time and stares off into space as she contemplates her lofty place in the universe. It's not until her BlackBerry vibrates that she's shocked back to reality in order to answer the Call Of Destiny. That is, of course, when McCain called to ask her to the movies. I mean, the Vice Presidency.
Okay, that's all I can handle for now. This might take a while. Luckily the next couple of sections deal with actual biography stuff such as growing up in a rural Alaskan town (no, really!) and being a kid. Good stuff.