Rudolph Delson does a wonderful job guiding us through what sounds like a waste of perfectly good trees. To wit:
“1:32pm. While eating a cheese sandwich, I read Palin’s descriptions of motherhood. (These passages are the most saccharine of Americana; they are mom-tastic; they deserve an essay themselves, something in fiery Menkenese. Later, later.) So let me cite one small example. On page 57, Bristol Palin has just been born. “Her shock of black hair, chubby cheeks, and dark, lively eyes showed off her Native heritage.” And what was the child like?:
As she grew she manifested her little mama’s heart by nurturing her siblings and cousins and always begging to babysit.
How Sarah Palin, knowing what she knows in 2009, could write with pride that Bristol Palin always had a “little mama’s heart,” is beyond my power to explain. It was enough to make me put down my cheese sandwich. It is enough to make me spend twenty minutes away from my lunch, hunched over my laptop, trying to find words.”