Book Review: I Wear the Black Hat by Chuck Klosterman

Klosterman subtitled his book, "Grappling with Villains (Real and Imagined)," and that word "grappling" aptly describes the tenor of this work.  He wrestles with the concept of the bad guy as Jacob wrestled the angel: a somewhat confusing contest with no clear victor.

Early on, after conjuring up the classic picture of a villain as the man in the black hat who ties the pretty young woman to the train tracks, he defines a villain as someone who knows but does not care.  It's a strange definition.  Though it covers the greedy industrialist dumping chemicals into the river, it seems awfully passive - knowing, not caring - states of thought and emotion, rather than actions.

But I think Jesus would agree with this definition, however imperfect it might be.  Evil comes from the heart, and the hands simply carry out its intentions.  The man who looks at a woman with lust in his heart has already committed adultery with her.  It is not what goes in a person, but what comes out, that poisons him.  Yet the definition must be as flawed as our perceptions of what constitutes good and evil, and not only philosophically, but in the ways we live these concepts out in ways ranging from the music we loathe to the people who disgust us; and, conversely, the music and people we adore and admire.

Take a divisive figure like Bill Clinton.  People will condemn and defend him for reasons political and moral, never convincing anyone to change their views.

[Clinton is] the kind of man you could trust to lead the world, but not to drive your wife to the airport.  He was a tireless, talkative, highly functioning sex addict.  When his affair with Lewinsky was on the verge of exploding nationally, he continued to deny its existence to every single person he worked with ... If described to someone with no memory of the recent past, the villain in the Lewinsky scandal seems stupidly obvious ... It should be a simple equation.  But it isn't. ... The larger vilification was ultimately split five ways.  Mr. Clinton, of course, was first against the wall.  But Monica Lewinsky was next, and she was hammered just as aggressively (and with much less justification).  So was Linda Tripp, Lewinsky's comically untelegenic gal pal who coerced her into detailing the affair while secretly taping their phone conversations.  So was Kenneth Starr, the obsessive lawyer who spent most of the nineties trying to destroy the Clinton administration and forced the American public to participate in his quest.  And so was Hillary Clinton, a person who did nothing wrong ... 

So with the advantages of hindsight and distance from the turmoil of the news cycle, can we today peg the villain in Clinton's travails?  Yes, each of us can, but each of us would do so differently and for differing causes.  Some would make the argument that the question is moot - why stamp labels on these people, "good" or "bad," oversimplifying a highly nuanced story (which others would argue never should have made it beyond the Oval Office).

Klosterman explains why we need to identify a villain in this case:

[Clinton] lies about it to the entire world, is exposed as a liar (and admits this on television), is impeached by the House of Representatives, and jeopardizes both the reputation of the office and the memory of every positive thing he accomplished as president.  It should be a simple equation.  But it isn't.  Clinton's impeachment worked to his short-term political advantage ... the public saw this as excessive and unjust.

Perhaps we can return to Klosterman's original definition of a villain: someone who knows but does not care.  Like a president who knows he compromises his office and legacy for the sake of some fleeting pleasure, but does not care.  Like a young woman who knows she's doing something wrong but is too entranced by power to care.  Like her friend who knows betraying someone for a moment of fame is wrong, but does not care.  Like a lawyer who knows the whole charade is ultimately meaningless yet pursues it like a captial case just to inflict harm on the president's reputation.  Like a wife who disregards her husband's philandering because she cares more about her own rise to power than this "loveless House of Cards agreement."  But surely the villain should be Bill Clinton, yet he remains "the person who is perceived the least negatively" but "is the person who was the most irrefutably immoral."

But why?  Klosterman blames it on our "looks-based, superficial society," and that we eagerly gloss over Clinton's indiscretions because he is (or, at least, was) one handsome devil, and he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut on the topic.  It was Lewinsky, Tripp, Starr, and Hillary who tried to garner clout and advantage from the debacle, but Bill smartly shut up and moved on.

So our ideas of villainy - our very ethics - can be swayed by good looks, charm, and a good job of feigning innocence.  It's not easy to know who's a villain when the bad guys refuse to wear the black hat.