…at the moment when the doppelganger decides to become the object of his affection.**
To play him (Donald Trump) right, Reines would have to study not just Trump’s mannerisms but his platform and his style of thinking. Got it, Reines assured Klain, “I understand that this is not a Saturday Night Live character imitation.” Then he went to work on becoming Trump.
First stop: the men’s department at Nordstrom. “I need to look like Donald Trump,’ he told his suit guy. “But not like Halloween.” A week later, he’d have a slightly baggy blue suit with high cuffs–just like the Donald’s. He ordered dress shoes with three-and-a-quarter lifts, a backboard for his posture, and knee braces to combat his tendency to sway. He concluded that acquiring Trump’s carrot skin tone would be too much of a distraction–but only after covering half his face in self tanner one day to try it out. He bought Trump cuff links on Amazon and a Trump watch on eBay–for about $175. Reines even shelled out money for four podiums–two apiece for his apartment and an office at Clinton campaign lawyer Marc Elias’s firm so that he could do mock debate sessions with friends before he faced off with Hillary. And then there was the “shackle.” Worried about leaving his supersecret prep materials in an Uber, Reines bought a heavy duty tether so that he could lock his briefcase to his wrist. He actually acquired two different versions–one of which was originally designed for bondage enthusiasts.
(From Shattered: Inside Hillary Clinton’s Doomed Campaign, Jonathan Allen and Amie Parnes, 2017)
This little tidbit is on page 325 (and concerns the Clinton campaign’s general election debate preparation). It’s the first sign of life in what was promising to be 400 of the deadest pages ever printed on dead tree pulp. Trust Donald Trump to pump life into the thing, just by being.
**NOTE–Patricia Highsmith, known round here as The Dark Lady, was the author of Strangers on a Train and the Ripley novels, among others. She is the only author I’ve read who understood sociopaths well enough to make them (as opposed to their effect on the normal people with whom they interact, which is often called a “plot”) interesting. Doppelgangers and false identities were her main thing. When she started, she looked like this…
When she finished, like this…
Understanding sociopathy at the level of real empathy wears on you. She’d have loved Donald Trump.
Better yet, she’d have understood him…and understood why (sociopath or not, and who’s to say?) his opponents (the sort of people who have substituted “bondage enthusiasts” for “the whips and chains crowd” in the name of post-Christian tolerance) continually underestimate him.
Because they’re just what he took them for.