'The Speechwriter' tells the story of a disgraced governor's former scribe
There聽are 8,000,000 disingenuousnesses perpetrated in the halls of government each year, none naked, all gaseous. In the ringingly clear words of Barton Swaim鈥檚聽The Speechwriter:听鈥淭he trick was to use the maximum number of words with the maximum number of interpretations,鈥� be it a piece of legislation or a congratulatory note to a recently affianced couple. Clarity is dangerous, a close cousin to sincerity.
Swaim was scribe, from 2007 to 2010, to Mark Sanford, the former governor of South Carolina who crashed and burned when his mishandling of state funds and an extramarital affair became public knowledge. Regardless, he is back today 鈥� Sanford, not Swaim 鈥� as one of South Carolina鈥檚 congressional representatives. From a number of perspectives, including Sanford鈥檚, that might be called 鈥渟igns and wonders.鈥� But Sanford was never very good with words 鈥� Swaim artfully characterizes Sanford鈥檚 speechifying and writing as having an 鈥渋ncommodious style鈥� 鈥� hence Swaim, penman.
Sanford cut a rectitudinous figure, reserving his ogreish behavior for his staff. Sanford was frugal (frugal to grotty: Swaim 鈥渟aw inside the collar of one of his white button-up shirts; it was solid brown鈥�), whereas those across the aisle were spendthrifts; Sanford was noble, of aristocratic bearing; they were Gomorrans. He was against pork-barrel projects (he brought pigs into the South Carolina House chamber in protest); he stood against faith-based license plates. He was overzealous on the fiscal austerity front, and he grappled with educational initiatives: he was for vouchers and for taking pruning shears to university departments in an effort to keep tuition increases down. Swaim felt he could work with the governor.
Sanford鈥檚 name is never used in the book 鈥� he is 鈥渢he governor鈥� 鈥� and his politics are the center of attention only insofar as it is Swaim鈥檚 job to somehow express them, or when they throw some special light on Sanford鈥檚 personality. Swaim鈥檚 story, which has the charm of being fresh, fun, and fussy at once 鈥� he is not the brio-and-dash type; rather, the book is built out of crisp lines, like a handsome piece of architecture 鈥� is about his fondness for writing and how his attempts at bringing polished candor to the governor鈥檚 words were fed into a peppermill and ground to something flabbergastingly stupid or excruciatingly disconcerting.
Why suffer this state of affairs? Well, it took Swaim some time to see things as they were. His first piece of speechwriting was met with open arms, which went straight to his head. 鈥淚 would soon be indispensable. I would study the questions faced by this great, graceful statesman, and I would suggest to him what he should say.鈥�
In his next attempt, the grammarian 鈥� Swaim 鈥� met the incommodity: Sanford. The governor was looking to brand himself, project a grandly identifiable voice, capture the audience and the big picture with something 鈥渕agical.鈥� Now and then, enough to pay the bills at home, Swaim nails the governor鈥檚 imagined self; mostly, his work is chopped into meaningless, malodorous hash, as the governor berates Swaim. Maybe he was not the governor鈥檚 man, Swaim feared. Rumors swirled that someone new was being sought.
鈥淚 don鈥檛 claim that my writing was brilliant, but the objections he raised were mystifying to me and sometimes totally unreasonable.鈥� The governor would fulminate over the most harmless phrases; he would be plain rude 鈥� 鈥淭his is stupid.... Stupid.... I don鈥檛 get it.... Who cares.... Boring ... what is this?鈥� 鈥� and obnoxiously control-freaky.
To be fair, Swaim understood how difficult it was to be governor. Sanford was expected to have something beguiling to say about everything. It was Swaim鈥檚 job to provide the talking points 鈥� bang, bang, bang 鈥� and to provide a hook to capture the audience at once. Too many times to count, the governor would dismiss Swaim鈥檚 opening gambit, then claim it as his own. Sanford鈥檚 specialty, however, was the hackneyed. Swaim鈥檚 wife tendered sage advice: 鈥淟aura ... told me several times to start writing badly 鈥� badly like him, with clumsy, meandering sentences and openings that seemed calculated to stop reading. But I couldn鈥檛 bring myself to try it.鈥� Being a bright young man, Swaim would learn.
Then came a couple of issues that didn鈥檛 square with all that honesty, decency, and decorousness. A significant amount of funds raised for a rescheduling of the National Governors Association had found its way into 鈥渢he account of the Reform Alliance, a nonprofit advocacy group [Sanford] had founded a year before.鈥� Sanford returned the money, which looked bad, but the incident blew over.
His extramarital affair with a woman in Argentina did not, nor did the spending of public money in pursuit of that woman. This is where the crux of the book shifts, and what had been near farce, swinging between David Lodge and P. G. Wodehouse, turns to bitterness.
Writing for a politician is the meat-and-potatoes of Swaim鈥檚 story: it may start innocently enough, with the best intentions, but the act is almost sure to become twisted, and not just because 鈥渙ne of the melancholy facts of political life is that your convictions tend to align with your paycheck,鈥� as Swaim admits. 鈥淵our interpretation of 鈥榯he facts鈥� will usually follow those of your employer.鈥� That doesn鈥檛 read so much melancholy as it does weak. Earlier, when Swaim wrote, 鈥淪ometimes I felt no more attachment to the words I was writing than a dog has to its vomit,鈥� it sounded like gumption, until you recall that dogs routinely find their vomit of conspicuous interest.
But Swaim has something more bitter, and biting and true, to offer. 鈥淲hy do we trust men who have sought and attained high office by innumerable acts of vanity and self-will?鈥� Swaim toiled and compromised for a man whom he thought was 鈥渙ne of the right people,鈥� only to find his craving for glory, vulgar authority, and bottomless pit of self-absorption.
鈥淭he brutal reality is that politicians gain power by convincing us that they are wise and trustworthy鈥� 鈥� sagacious, brave, virtuous 鈥� making us admire them, in part, through their use of the talents of Swaim and his colleagues. The fact that even the speechwriter falls under the spell he is hired to cast is perhaps the greatest warning a book like this can offer.
