Listening Length: 7 hours A mesmerizing firsthand account of the warping of American reality over the past decade as Donald Trump has risen to dominance—from a participatory witness who got so far inside the distortion field that it swallowed her whole.
Olivia Nuzzi spent a third of her life observing those in power. She became a reporter in 2014, when the political landscape began to reconfigure itself around a singular personality whom she was uniquely primed to understand. Over the next ten years, she used her access and eye for detail to chronicle his campaigns, trials, and government in blockbuster feature stories that drove the national conversation and propelled her to the heights of her profession.
Then, in 2024, her personal life collided with the public interest in a scandal that cost Nuzzi her job and reputation. Amid a full-blown tabloid frenzy, Nuzzi went quiet, drove west, and spent the next year in self-imposed exile at the edge of the country, where she wrote this searing and astonishingly clear-eyed account of what she—and we—have experienced over the last decade.
Nuzzi walked through hell and she took notes. The result is a brilliant and bracing reckoning with recent history from one of our sharpest political observers. Beginning in the present in California, and then turning her gaze back east and back in time, she weaves a dazzling mosaic of the Trump era: her many behind-the-scenes encounters with Trump himself, from their first meeting in Trump Tower to a wealth of revelatory conversations about his Hollywood aspirations, his dreams, his fears about being assassinated, and more; the life she led uneasily that skidded to a halt; the rise of digital surveillance and the decline of privacy; the normalization of political violence; and the collision of polarization with the democratization of information to sow doubt about every aspect of our reality.
American Canto is also a powerful personal history. Nuzzi’s account of growing up in working-class New Jersey as the child of alcoholics in the shadow of New York City and 9/11 is raw and moving. Her mother was angry, beautiful, and unpredictable. Her father, a loving man who supported his family as a sanitation worker, removed debris from Ground Zero. They both died young. A version of Nuzzi did, too. She approached this “kind of death” with the critical distance of a reporter. When interrogating her own mistakes, Nuzzi confesses, “I had trained my whole life in the battlefield of crisis.”
Despite her profession, Olivia Nuzzi has never been interested in breaking news. American Canto is not a memoir, nor a tell-all, nor a book about the president. Instead, it is something more artful and more interesting—a character study of a nation undergoing radical transformation in real time. It seeks to reframe our understanding of the history we are living through from the perspective of someone who observed it from within the kaleidoscope and now sees it clearly from the other side.
I got this book from my library and read it today and I spent like two hours writing a long ass review in a word doc but I decided I don’t really want to pile on to someone who’s already the subject of ridicule while the other half of the affair is the Health Secretary gutting research for children’s cancer and reintroducing polio to the population.
I’ll just say I didn’t like this at all and leave it at that.
I tried. But while I have always enjoyed Olivia Nuzzi's writing, it turns out I don't enjoy her narration. And since I prefer to do memoirs on audio vs reading them, this one seems to be destined to be left unfinished. Nuzzi uses this breathy, dreamlike voice and a cadence that is so bizarre and unnatural that I couldn't find any speed to listen that didn't sound either too fast or too slow. A friend who sampled it said she sounds like a "sexy robot" and that is unfortunately apt. The narration was too distracting for me to get very far into the content, but I would recommend reading vs listening for this one.
In case you were wondering: yes, it really is THAT bad.
Update: To add some context, it’s not just the disorganization or the pretentiousness or lack of any new political scoops that makes this book such a dud. It’s also the complete lack of self-awareness. Nuzzi spends a lot of time feeling sorry for herself, but never reflects on any of the journalistic ethics she breached—not on having an affair with one of her subjects, nor on any of the other transgressions that have leaked within the last month. We can infer that Nuzzi’s difficult childhood left a psychological mark on her, but even that allows her to cast the blame for her own decisions on someone else.
This is the type of book that probably would have been a hit among magazine columnists back in the 1990s. The Nineties are long over though, and it’s time for everyone to move on.
If you read Olivia Nuzzi's piece on Donald Trump's ear (or "ovular rose") then you know what you are in for. Overwrought prose and prosaic observations dressed up as profundity are tiresome in magazine-length pieces. So how does it fare over 303 pages?
Better than expected. The odd diversions into Britney Spears or the California wildfire updates actually work well in bitesize chunks between set piece interviews or philosophical digressions. America is going to hell.
But the book is a strange beast. After all, this is a journalist who actually prides herself on never getting scoops. So you won't learn much new about Trump or his two administrations. Perhaps one of the most revealing insights into 47 comes from an interview with another journalist.
Of course, this book, like all her writing, is not really about Trump or America. It is primarily about Nuzzi. Which is why we are reading it. The soap opera break-up with another of Washington's best-known reporters and her affairs with her interview subjects are interesting, but less riveting than Ryan Lizza's account. She admits to her catch-and-kill work for RFK Jr and how she was advising him in his political career, and there are some eyebrow raising moments when she wonders if ex lovers may want to kill her -- along with an offer by her brother to take care of them.
So while Nuzzi's American Canto offers a depiction of a nation plumbing the trashy depths of lowest-common-denominator commodification, one can't help but come away the sense that the whole shabby business does not just reflect on the man in the White House. It reflects on the author too.
I'll admit I was interested in the public trainwreck aspect of this and on that account it did not disappoint. With a voice somewhere between ASMR and a 90's 1-800 phone sex number, Nuzzi's audial and written output can only be described as undiluted torture. I can't recall a more vacuous and inessential tome about the body politic - how in the world did she advance so far as a 'writer' without seemingly any ability to coherently convey a thought - at some point I fully expected her to start quoting season 1 of True Detective as if it were her own voice. I predict that this book will be found in thrift stores in a few years and coveted because passages will be read aloud solely for their comedic benefit. I would feel bad for Nuzzi if she didn't seem to so shamelessly wade into this publication with eyes wide open about her past and the book's contents. If this is the current state of American journalism we are screwed.
it’s hard to square this with someone who writes all kinds of stuff for a living. She’s a young woman who has been piled on for her missteps. I don’t want to make it worse. This book is unreadable for me. I skimmed it.
This book, along with the Jacob Bernstein's glamour spread in NYT for Nuzzi's comeback, are deliberately placed in a moody yet enigmatic and utterly LA backdrop, which could be described in a number of ways but I'm increasingly resonating with calling it a "Lana-Del-Rey-Death-Drive-Princess" aesthetic. This vibe, for lack of a better word, is what Nuzzi hopes will carry her back into the elite ranks of journalism because she opted not to offer anything of substance on the scandal that made her name notorious. Given the additional revelations that have come to life thanks to her spurned ex-fiancé, Ryan Lizza, it is perhaps understandable that Nuzzi wants to keep the bodies buried.
In a thematically consistent but frustrating way, this memoir is presented in a rhetorical, literary style and relies heavily on impressionistic asides and a tunnel-visioned first-person narration that enable Nuzzi to play coy with the details of the scandal, which is really the only reason most readers will come to this book. For instance, Robert F. Kennedy Jr, Nuzzi's latest graying paramour, is only referred to as "the politician." The prose is one of many strange decisions Nuzzi has made. This book should be a frantic and frank attempt to excuse her hubristic, bizarre, and disastrous choices. Instead Nuzzi has chosen deflection. She claims she was infatuated and otherwise buffeted by the big structural forces that have subsumed our politics. This loss of agency is alleged to be consequence of a seeming unreality created by celebrity spectacle mixed with the most potent intoxicant of all, raw power.
This excuse is unacceptable in our deeply cynical and jaded age. We all know that Nuzzi knew what she was doing and that she wasn't operator up to things she shouldn't have been. We know that many in her very world do similarly underhanded and unethical things but have heretofore not burned enough bridges to end up burned like her. Maybe Nuzzi will recover but she may have to rely on her talent for seduction or being seduced by the powerful if she wants to land back on her feet again. I don't think American Canto is going to be the meal ticket she hoped it'd be.
I tried—checked it out from the library. The beginning felt like a bad Joan Didion impersonation. It was worse than expected. Sorry Liv, this didn’t do anything in the direction of redemption, understanding, or art. DNF at a very low %. She’s a boring narcissist who chose to f*ck our country because she needed attention. Olivia please get therapy and take a break from sharing anything with us.
This is described as “mesmerizing” and I guess it is, in the way staring out the car window at the freeway from the backseat is mesmerizing. It’s just a lot of nothing.
For 303 pages, Olivia Nuzzi attempts to dissect American politics through the lens of her experience as a journalist since 2014. Unfortunately, the book is incoherent. Frankly, it is difficult to discern its purpose. She weaves in and out of political encounters and observations of contemporary political language without offering a clear or consistent interpretation of any of it. What many readers were likely most inclined to read the book for, her affair with then-presidential candidate RFK Jr., becomes even more confusing and opaque. It is unclear whether the book is intended as a tell-all or yet another evasion and dilution of the truth.
In the few moments when the book does manage to hold interest, it is through her interactions with the President. This is not due to the quality of her analysis, but rather because Donald Trump remains one of the most fascinating figures of our time.
Overall, the book feels like a waste. Nuzzi appears deeply absorbed in her own perspective. She presents herself at the center of events, positioning herself as uniquely profound and therefore absolved of ethical shortcomings. At the same time, she exhibits a level of narcissism that suggests she believes her tenure as a journalist excuses her from accountability altogether.
I think people are hating on this book because of RFK a grotesque, robot sounding measles providing drug addicted generational douchebag. If you are able to compartmentalize how undesirable he is for you, as the reader, Nuzzi writes a gonzo style fun read about the absurdity of our politics, intertwined with her personal experience with it. I’ve always liked her writing style and her appearances on these characters she covers.
I agree with others that the narration is a staccato pattern which is hard to get used to. It is like William Shatner is reading you the book. I’d advise just reading it if you think you can’t get past that. Despite that, I very much enjoyed the work. I found it thought provoking and quite interesting. Give it a shot.
The most bizzare book I've ever read in my life. The prose, diction and construction of this book are designed to obfuscate the lack of material. Looking into Olivia Nuzzi's reality is like peering through a cracked fish eye lens into a kaleidoscope.
The most satisfying afterthought to this mindmelting work of staggering hubris is knowing it remains unread by the general public.
American Canto by Olivia Nuzzi is a book that was widely dismissed for “saying nothing,” which tells me more about its reviewers than about the book itself.
What Nuzzi does here is radical in its restraint. She curates absence. She removes herself as narrator, judge, or stabilizing force and lets her subjects — most notably Donald Trump — speak at length, uninterrupted, uncorrected, unrescued. The effect is not exposé or diagnosis. It’s exposure.
Trump does not need to be labeled insane in these pages. The structure of his thinking reveals itself through repetition, looping, grandiosity, emotional certainty untethered from reality. Nuzzi understands that interpretation would weaken the effect. By refusing to intervene, she allows him — and the reader — to do the work themselves.
But this book isn’t just about Trump. It’s about proximity to power. It’s about what happens when journalists, systems, and readers hover close to authority without grounding it. The real unease comes when you start to wonder not just about him, but about her — and then about yourself. What kind of mind can sit this close to spectacle without flinching? What kind of culture rewards that intimacy?
Critics seemed to want a thesis, a moral, a takedown. Nuzzi offers none. Instead, she recreates the experience of contemporary politics: meaning dissolving, coherence replaced by affect, confidence standing in for truth. That free-fall feeling — which many reviewers mistook for emptiness — is the point.
This is not a book that argues. It documents. It implicates. It refuses catharsis.
If you need a guide telling you what to think, you’ll hate it. If you can tolerate ambiguity — or are curious about how disordered thinking can function, flourish, and be normalized — this book is quietly devastating.
My experience with this book was through an audiobook. Ms. Nuzzi's voice (soft and not assertive) and verbal cadence (Short and disjointed) immediately stuck out and starting to be grating to the point where I was thinking about tapping out. She then addressed it in an early chapter of something that she was bullied about and is of a genetic nature. I immediately felt like an judgmental asshole and began to have empathy for an individual that the world does not have much for currently. I say this as it is important to the perception of my reading experience.
Ms. Nuzzi is not an expert of anything and I don't feel she is putting that out there although is being judged for. She was a journalist and had the opportunity of a lifetime to cover the White House with a good amount of access to the 45th President. She was an impressionable woman who fell in a far from the norm love with a married RFK Jr. This doesn't make her a great person but it does make her human and our stories in literature should be reflecting the human experience. This book captures what it is to be human.
The timeline of the book is all over the map and can be a tad frustrating in terms of its structure. She chooses not to name names so they are titles of 'The Politician', 'The President' and 'The Senator' among others that you need to pay attention to in order to stay in the story. Although my curious intrusive nature as what brought me to the book, I came away happy that I read it and although Ms. Nuzzi is now in career peril, I for one am rooting for her next act and may it bring her finally a state of self security and happiness.
Brrruuuuuutal audiobook. How can someone with so much drama be so painfully boring. 2 stars only because I’m praying the paper copy was more tolerable without the bizarre coquettish yet robotic voice torture.
This book fell completely flat. I admit I followed the hype of her affair with RFK Jr, but I don’t even understood what this book was about. It was so rambling and self-involved with a total lack of self awareness. Plus I made the mistake of listening to the audiobook.