Lyssa Dent Hughes is the privileged, well-educated daughter of a Republican senator. She is the wife of a professor and the owner of a lovely house in Georgetown. She is also the president's nominee for Surgeon General. When the media discovers that once, long ago, she failed to respond for jury duty, this relatively minor misstep is portrayed as a serious moral lapse. A good friend uses the incident to make a point, scarcely thinking of the implications, and Lyssa must suffer the consequences. From that moment on, Lyssa Dent Hughes sits helplessly as the press investigates her family and friends, shattering her privacy, her career, and her world. Wendy Wasserstein's trenchant humor and sizzling dialogue combine with biting political commentary to produce a masterful, and topical, drama.
Wendy Wasserstein was an award-winning American playwright and an Andrew Dickson White Professor-at-Large at Cornell University. She was the recipient of the Tony Award for Best Play and the Pulitzer Prize for Drama.
We have reached the three quarter mark of this crazy year, and I have reached the triple digit mark in my reading challenge. That is always my personal goal, but in this year like no other, the reading was not about how many award winners I could read or how many nonfiction or literary fiction volumes I could immerse myself in. As I have navigated 2020, I have found the most pleasure in reading through works by my favorite authors, both new and old. My reading thus far has included childhood favorites and the reread of new favorites over the last few years as well as taking the time for books by my new favorites. Even if my reading challenge might include less variety than in recent years, reading remains for me the ultimate escape. I have avoided reading books focusing on politics and other current events for the most part, but then I noticed a Wendy Wasserstein play I had not read yet. Although it is full of her one of a kind trademark humor, An American Daughter is both political and ahead of its time (1998). In this attempt for Wasserstein to be “serious,” she rips pages from the headlines with a female politician protagonist who grapples with the 1990s feminist mantra to be a woman who “has it all.” In today’s era of polarized politics, I knew that Wasserstein’s take on Washington of twenty years ago would be both a relief and a must read, as is everything she wrote.
Lyssa Dent Hughes is the fifth generation removed from President Ulysses S. Grant, from whom she got her name. She is a PhD medical doctor and the current nominee for U.S. surgeon general and would be the first woman to hold the post. She is the pride and joy of her father, Indiana Senator Alan Hughes, but other than a shared love of public service, the only thing the two agree on is their distaste for wet coleslaw. Alan Hughes is a six term Republican Senator, who had previously been the mayor of Fort Wayne. Lyssa grew up among political rallies and campaigns, and after attending an eastern boarding school and then an Ivy League University, she aspired to one day hold a higher office. Although from the heartland, Lyssa is not a soccer mom even though she is the proud mother of twin boys, being brought up in the then new culture where kids are plugged onto the internet 24/7. In the late 1990s, this was in the form of chat rooms, before the emerging twenty four hour news cycle. Lyssa built and ran a hospital from the ground up and is supportive of women’s health issues. Her husband Walter Abrahmson is a women’s studies professor, and she can count the First Lady as a personal friend. With her pedigree and connections, it appears that Lyssa is a shoe in for the job, giving the younger generation of girls in STEM a new role model.
At a legendary brunch the day after the nomination, Lyssa and Walter’s friends and family from across the political spectrum converge at their Georgetown home. This includes reporter Timber Tucker, who is filming the brunch, and the Hughes’ close friend Morrow, a conservative gay pundit. Gay rights was not at the forefront of society twenty years ago as it is now; in this, Wasserstein was ahead of society’s curve. To contrast with Morrow, we are presented with Lyssa’s other best friend Dr. Judith Kaufman, an African American Jewish doctor. She is still single because as a multicultural person, she checks off too many boxes, and society does not know where to place her. She is holding out hope for an African American Jewish doctor to cross her path, but the prospects seem few and far between. Unlike Lyssa, Dr. Kaufman has not done it all: she longs for a family and this remains a sticking point between the two women. Ironically, Dr Kaufman hits it off with Morrow, who is clearly not interested, evoking for me the images of women on television twenty years ago who complained that the best available men were gay. With all of these storylines, critics claim that in her attempt to be serious, Wasserstein tried to do too much. These ideas were her critique of a society that even after first wave feminism were overly critical of women like Lyssa Hughes who were accused of trying to have it all, like this was a bad thing. As a result, the tension builds, more than a 24 hour news cycle can provide.
In a critical remark, Morrow mentions that Lyssa one time failed to respond to a summons for jury duty. Stay at home moms criticize Lyssa for her “trying to do it all” life whereas “clean” politicians condemn her for shirking responsibility. In her life as a mother, hospital director, national speaker, and volunteer, perhaps the summons was overlooked. Wasserstein points out that had this been a male nominee, the media would have looked the other way. No one would have cared about his personal life, although in the late 1990s, some congressmen did resign after having affairs. With the birth of the internet and the information highway, anyone could obtain information about anyone else with the click of a mouse. The news was not as instant as it is now, but the technology was starting to slowly move in that direction. The line between public and private lives was beginning to blur, and Lyssa Hughes was made out to be an example. Both she and Walter in a follow up interview noted that their private life is just that: private. Sadly, the media and the soccer moms of the world thought otherwise; to them, Lyssa Hughes’ private life is of their concern as is her one time oversight in neglecting jury duty. Perhaps, in juggling her responsibilities, Lyssa Hughes should not be an example of a 1990s woman who has done and had it all.
Fast forwarding twenty years, more women are choosing to be stay at home moms. There are working women in all fields but homemaker moms by choice as well. The moniker woman who has it all has receded, and feminist does not have the same connotation as it used to. A woman is allowed to choose what she wants, whether it is a working woman, working mother, stay at home mother, etc. And in our busy lives, if we inadvertently misplace a summons for jury duty, we are are forgiven for that as well. Lyssa Hughes was scrutinized politically because she was a woman, and family life is sadly still part of every female candidate’s campaigning even now. One day, hopefully, this will be gender blind, but it still is not, the same way women still receive less pay for the same work as men. Women have shattered the glass ceiling, which is a recurring theme in many of Wasserstein’s plays, and are living with the results of these actions. Rather than living the post college intellectual’s life in Manhattan, Lyssa Hughes is a doctor and political aspirant in Washington, D.C., a step up from Wasserstein’s other work. A visionary playwright, Wasserstein won a Pulitzer and Tony and was a definitive feminist playwright. Her attempt at what she called serious drama was above average but criticized by her fans desiring her trademark humor. The humor is there: just ask Lyssa Hughes her coleslaw preference. A descendant of a President and Senator, as a 1990s women Lyssa Hughes is more closely scrutinized than others desiring the same political position. In her unique take on this still relevant issue, Wendy Wasserstein has argued that this should not be the case and yet it still is. One day, hopefully soon, women should not have to feel like they have to “do it all” in order to be deemed like an American success story.
This play is still relevant, with the Justine Sacco scandal still being pretty fresh and Ronson's 'So You've Been Publicly Shamed', which I happened to read this year. There's nothing better than tearing someone down for no other reason than we can. Well, not me.
Even though this play is set in the 1980s/90s, it does speak much of today's time. Women are seen and expected to absolutely do it all (raise a family, hold down a job, volunteer time, etc.) and to do it all flawlessly. Yet, when a simple mistake is made by her it brings her whole world down. By the media, by her professional community, by her family. Despite Ms. Wasserstein's middle class WAC-style upbringing, she shows how women from various walks of life are expected, and are, to be perceived. I look forward to seeing a revival of this somewhere.
I listened to this via Scribd and hated every second of this. I listened to this ONLY for my Mary McDonnell collection. There was not one aspect of this that wasn't annoying from the storyline to the tone of voices from the actors. Even MM, whom I adore, irritated me. My feeling was it was intentional, but that didn't help me even as I was trying to tell myself throughout.
This was great. Exploring lots of things through, of course, a feminist lens. Very liberating. Maybe one day women in power won’t have to represent “the women of America.”
February 6th, 2025 (edited February 8th, 2025 after midnight)
When I read this book for the first time, I didn't appreciate exactly what was going on. My most specific memories were of Judith Kaufman, the main character's Black, Jewish-by-choice best friend, who I found arguably more compelling than any other character.
Revisiting it in 2025, via the LA TheatreWorks audio recording, was a very different experience.
The Quaintness of the 1990s There's a quaintness listening to this in 2025.
We are in the midst of the second Trump administration's wave of cabinet confirmations. The people who have been nominated have included dictator apologists, vaccine skeptics, accused rapists and sexual abusers, and people who have published hit lists for policy and personnel. The only candidate to be defeated was an accused human trafficker.
By comparison, Lyssa Dent Hughes, the main character of An American Daughter, is a doctor and public servant nominated for US Surgeon General, who faces nomination peril because she declined to respond to a jury summons.
I mean, I have to acknowledge the fact that this a play of the Clinton administration. But... still. Can you imagine a Trump cabinet nominee being sunk over jury summons?
What the feminism I might be wrong here, but I think this is supposed to be a serious discussion of feminism of the 1990s.
If that's the case, it seems to me that this is a reflection of a general ethos of a certain segment of Gen X women: basically, can a woman have it all, actually? They were told they could - did this make them fulfilled?
Reading this, I kept tryin to think if there are supposed to be avatars to characters of that moment. Is Lyssa supposed to have a Hillary Clinton air? Is Quincy Quince, the insufferable twentysomething feminist intellectual who , akin to a Naomi Wolf, maybe? Susan Faludi? I don't know.
This is the thing that frustrates me most about this play: what IS its point? That women can't have it all? That no one gets what they actually want, unless they have no scruples?
Regardless, the conversation the plays seems to attempting to instigate feels so foreign as to being incomprehensible to me. At least when it comes to the women.
The men Incidentally, I actually come away with a stronger point of view about the men of the play.
There's Walter, Lyssa's husband, a feckless man trapped in his own feelings of inadequacy who we find .
There's Morrow, who actually feels the most directly contemporary: a gay man who seems to have adopted very right wing political opinions as a way to grow his own notoriety and power - and who is Lyssa's best friend and another man who betrays her.
There's Timber, a TV journalist who turns Lyssa's jury foible into a national sensation - and who seems perhaps internally conflicted about it but not enough to recognize his own role in Lyssa's downfall.
And there's Lyssa's father, a conservative sitting senator who didn't really know how to relate to his daughter in her youth, yet seems incredibly committed to her in her public strife. When every other man in this play seems to screw her - feeling bad enough about it to verbalize, but not enough to actually NOT do it - her father, with whom she disagrees on everything politically, stands by her.
I'm not sure what the answer is here. I don't actually know that the play knows what it's trying to say. There's nothing satisfying.
There's wit, though. There's wit, to be sure. And for those who enjoy listening to plays, the LA TheatreWorks production has a collection of talented performers who know how to bring out Wendy Wasserstein's wit.
So it's not an unenjoyable play. It's just a baffling one.
Ally McBeal One symbol of the 1990s feminist debate that sticks out to me is the infamous cover of Time Magazine that features the TV character Ally McBeal alongside feminist icons of the past, asking if feminism is dead. It's a magazine cover that means almost nothing now, and the fact that THAT was the nature of feminist debate ca. 1998 feels... well, again, quaint.
This play feels like a part of THAT conversation. This means that modern analyses of the state of women in America are NOT going to be found in these pages.
All told... This is an opaque time capsule of a play.
I greatly enjoy Wendy Wasserstein as a playwright and I think she's done another great job here.
Say you are exceptionally good at your job, and you help people and are busy, and something slips your notice. Later on you get nominated for Surgeon General, a position everyone seems to agree you'd be good at. Then it comes out that that thing that slipped your notice was jury duty and now you look like you are too good for jury duty and your political family throws you under the bus to make sure the scandal doesn't taint them too. But who hasn't misplaced something? Or forgotten about something. But when you are a woman on the public scale, you seem to be held to a standard where no mistakes would ever be acceptable.
While I wouldn't say this is my personal favorite Wasserstein show, I think it's full of questions about double standards and how to be good enough, and generational politics, and interesting characters. It starts off solid but develops into a bit of a thriller as the perfection originally pictures unravels.
An almost quaint little political play that involves a famous doctor being proposed by a Republican president in the 1990s to become Surgeon General, as a kind of safe choice to split the difference among constituents. Her father is a well-known Republican Senator, and her husband is a famous liberal academic and public intellectual. The play centers around a brunch where these three plus a reporter, our lead character’s close friend, a former grad student and new feminist academic star, and a gay Republican politico all attend. At the brunch, a joke is made about the doctor not serving jury duty, which spins into scandal where she’s asked to account for this oversight, and we learn about fairness and double-standards.
Like I said, it’s almost quaint, and maybe the quaintness keeps it relevant, but also I don’t think it does. Anyway, I couldn’t help think of how Tom Daschle’s nomination for HHS got tanked ten years later because a weird tax situation, and well, look at the everything now!
I really like this play, I wonder if it’s possible for our small backwater community theater group to do right by it. The play is about a doctor and heath care executive, who passionately wants national health care and women's reproductive freedom, is a wife and mother to young sons, the daughter of an Indiana senator, and the five times great- granddaughter of Ulysses Grant, is nominated to be Surgeon General and her nomination is scuttled because she ignored a jury summons. It has some funny lines, but it’s a tragedy, really.
I used to love Wendy Wasserstein, but now her writing just makes me feel consistently sad and trapped as a woman - I think she tries to create happy endings within the world of tensions and unhappiness that she describes, but her emphasis on the continuing constraints and shifting traps that waylay women over time may be realistic, but it makes me feel hopeless!
Interesting listening to play without seeing the characters. Obviously it would have better to see tha play, but I did enjoy imagining what the characters looked like. I gave three stars because although I enjoyed it for the most part I did feel that sometimes the dialogue got too much with trying-to-be-witty or biting one-liners. And so in parts it just fell flat for me.
A little on the predictable side, but maybe that's just because I have had women in politics and the media's treatment of them on my mind for many months now. I think she hits the dilemma right on the nose.
ARGH! So, did he sleep with her? I need a class discussion. What an intersting "little" play about politics, family and misplaced...social angst. I liked this one and will enjoy reading student commentary on it.
The last Wasserstein play I saw live, circa 2003?, about a surgeon general nominee . I wanted to like it more than I did but I must admit I was distracted by the Tuckerization of her real-life friend, correspondent Forrest Sawyer, into the character Timber Tucker.
Gosh. What a TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE play. It is just painfully boring, extremely feminist, and just...bleh. NOT my cup of tea. One of the most terrible things I had to read in college, by far.
A political blockbuster? Well, a dramatic dtory based on a high-falutin' politico that reminds one of the big Nanny Illegal scandal a ways back. Little bombs go off with deft precision. Fun!
I remember seeing it on Broadway and could hear Lynne Thigpen in my head saying the lines. It seems very much relevant as we go through a Supreme Court confirmation process.