Robert Draper explores this question just as he examined the Bush White House in his 2007 New York Times bestselling book Dead Certain: The Presidency of George W. Bush--by burrowing deeply inside the subject, gaining cooperation of the major players, and producing a colorful, unsparingly detailed, but evenhanded narrative of how the House of Representatives became a house of ill repute. Draper's cast of characters spans the full spectrum of political experience and ideologies--from the Democrat Dingell, a congressman since 1955 (though elbowed out of power by the party's House leader, Nancy Pelosi), to Allen West, a black Republican Tea Party sensation, former Army lieutenant colonel, and political neophyte with a talent for equal opportunity offending. While unspooling the boisterous, at times tragic, and ultimately infuriating story of the 112th Congress, Draper provides unforgettable portraits of Gabrielle Giffords, the earnest young Arizona congresswoman who was gunned down by a madman at the beginning of the legislative session; Anthony Weiner, the Democrats' clown prince and self-made media star until the New Yorker self-immolated in a sex scandal; the strong-willed Pelosi and her beleaguered if phlegmatic Republican counterpart, House Speaker John Boehner; the affable majority whip, Kevin McCarthy, tasked with instilling team spirit in the iconoclastic freshmen; and most of all, the previously unknown new members who succeeded in shoving Boehner's Republican Conference to the far right and thereby bringing the nation, more than once, to the brink of governmental shutdown or economic default.
In this lively work of political narrative, Draper synthesizes some of the most talked-about breaking news of the day with the real story of what happened behind the scenes. This book is a timely and masterfully told parable of dysfunction that may well serve as Exhibit A of how Americans lost faith in their democratic institutions.
"Congress will rise June 1st, as most of us expect. Rejoice when that event is ascertained. If we should finish and leave the world right side up, it will be happy. Do not ask what good we do: that is not a fair question, in these days of faction." --Congressman Fisher Ames, May 30, 1796
In Do Not Ask What Good We Do, Robert Draper captures the prophetic sentiment uttered by Fisher Ames over two centuries ago. As he did in writing about President George W. Bush in Dead Certain, Draper provides an insider's book like no one else can--this time, inside the U.S. House of Representatives. Because of the bitterly divided political atmosphere we live in, because of the combative nature of this Congress, this literary window on the backstage machinations of the House is both captivating and timely--revealing the House in full, from the process of how laws are made (and in this case, not made) to the most eye-popping cast of lawmakers Washington has ever seen.
Publishers Weekly® Reviews
- Reviewed in: Publishers Weekly, page .
- Review Date: 2012-06-25
- Reviewer: Staff
First United States Congress member Fisher Ames couldn't have known how poignant his admonishment to "not ask what good we do" would become in light of the abysmally ineffective 112th Congress, particularly the House of Representatives, controlled by the GOP and with 96 freshman—87 of them Republicans—on its contentious roster. Plagued by an embarrassing 9% approval rating and a startlingly low passage of bills, the current House has also suffered from the personal tragedies and mistakes of its members, particularly the shooting of Gabrielle Giffords in 2011 and Anthony Weiner's sexting scandal. Indeed, Draper focuses on the lives of Representatives—from both parties—inside and outside the House, and details the incredibly dynamic interpersonal politics that are the hallmark and the bane of a truly democratic institution. Characterized by the same level of detail and evenhandedness that suffused 2008's Dead Certain: The Presidency of George W. Bush, Draper's newest is an in-depth look behind the scenes of what 29-term Representative John Dingell called "the most human institution on the planet." (Apr.)