An irreverent take on the national bestseller 41: A Portrait of My Father by George W. Bush, 45 is a no-holds-barred tell-all written in the voice of former president George W. Bush as he stumps for his brother Jeb -- perhaps doing more harm than good.
In 45: A Portrait of My Knucklehead Brother Jeb, George W. Bush takes readers on a journey through his "butt-faced kid brother's" life, detailing the experiences that forged his presidential character, and in his own plainspoken and sometimes even comprehensible style, showing us why the younger Bush should be the next leader of the free world. And while he definitely wants Jeb to be commander-in-chief, he just can't stop razzing him either. 45 is the most hilarious (and backhanded) presidential endorsement you've ever read--a true literary noogie from one brother to another.
I agree with some other reviewers: mildly entertaining. And better, for me, than spending an hour reading depressing "news" stories about active politicians.
Liberal writers’ attempt to take out their hatred of George W. Bush with a parody of Bush mentoring his brother, Jeb, to the 2016 presidential nomination. Since Jeb didn’t get very far, the book didn’t get very far. The idea portrays “W,” naturally, as a stumble-tongued idiot. It would have been better if it had been more of a parody and less 1) silly, and 2) an attempt to bash him, at one point even having “W” acting as if some of Obama’s failures were his. The best part was one of the author’s Bush speaking voice; the intentionally overmangled words bringing the few smiles in the thin book.
Ostensively written by George Dubya Bush himself, this is an account of how he trained his little brother Jeb to be president despite all the personality quirks and family history working against him. It wasn’t till the bios at the end that I found out the actual writer was the guy who invented The Onion; everything fell into place at that moment. This isn’t a laugh out loud comedy; this humor is insidious, subversive. . . subtle. When I read Dubya saying, “One of my favorite pastimes at as a boy was torturing frogs,” it explained so much. Another gem is “. . . failing at business—and failing big—is a long-standing Bush tradition.” So if you like this sort of thing, with supposedly self-deprecating jabs—though often Dubya sees them as positives—this is perfect for you. If you think this kind of thing might offend you, just make sure no one sees you reading it, you’ll chuckle anyway.
This book hovers somewhere in-between 3 and 4 stars for me. Was it funny? Yes. was it well written? Yes. But whether by design or by accident, the book wanders at points and gets so lost in the fact that it's a parody, that I ended up hoping particular sections would just end already so that I could actually get back to the real humor.