Irrational Exuberance

A subversive review of Alan Greenspan's new book looks at the rise and rise of the man.

Much of the creative critisism is reserved for the end of the scathing review.

In the Washington that Greenspan inhabits, some kinds of evasiveness are preferable to others; it helps if you're criticizing out-of-favor Republican greasebags and an unpopular Republican president. And you can see why he would want, at all costs, to preserve his standing. There's something endearing in the evident pleasure he takes from the high life he leads. He refers insouciantly to "the glitter of the White House," the welcome sanctuary of its tennis court, the convenience of the presidential box at the Kennedy Center. At certain points in his book he just flips open his social calendar and lets his ghostwriter jot down the names: "I did build up a wonderful circle of friends: .  .  . Henry and Nancy Kissinger, Oscar and Annette de la Renta, Felix and Liz Rohatyn, Brooke Astor (I knew her as a kid of seventy-five), Joe and Estée Lauder. .  .  . "Plus Barbara Walters.

More surprisingly, it turns out that much of what Greenspan has to say, when he sets evasiveness aside, is banal, on the subject of policy as well as people. Richard Nixon, he says, was paranoid and profane; Ronald Reagan liked to tell stories; Gerald Ford was normal.

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