In the dramatic saga of political memoirs, Kamala Harris’s new book titled “107 Days” seems ready to join the ranks. With its catchy subtitle that references her campaign timeline, one might say it’s a victim’s title. Just think about it: she had 107 days to win, supported by a whopping billion and a half dollars, and an automatic army of about 75 million voters who would rather support someone a tad more lively than Trump. Yet, despite this treasure trove of resources, the book still suggests that nothing was ever Kamala’s fault.
Critics like Bill Maher have taken issue with the memoir’s tendencies. He argues that the pages are filled with deflections, pointing fingers at anyone but the author herself. For instance, one of the book’s recurring themes is the negative narratives that sprang around her. She points to the president’s staff as the instigators of these tales, fueling stories of chaos in her office and unusually high staff turnover. Perhaps the chaos was just a clever strategy for efficiency that the rest of us just don’t understand. After all, turnover might be the trendy way to keep things fresh—like fast fashion, but with people.
Harris paints a picture of office politics as a zero-sum game. She implies that those around her believed if she did well, the president would somehow be overshadowed, dimming his spotlight. It’s a curious claim, considering most would think a vice president’s success inherently reflects well on the president’s leadership. Maybe Harris has discovered a new theory in political relations—one where success breeds secretive sabotage. It’s almost like she was caught in a Shakespearean drama rather than an American election.
As the pages turn, one can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, some of these challenges come from within. After all, it’s hard to lead if one is constantly looking over their shoulder. Accountability is a tenet most folks subscribe to, and perhaps acknowledging one’s own role in the chaos would have been a refreshing twist in the memoir. But alas, the book seems to prefer the tried-and-true narrative of blame, leaving readers questioning the reliability of its perspective.
While readers of “107 Days” might find themselves intrigued by Harris’s perspective, others might wander into skepticism. In the world of political memoirs, the temptation to rewrite history is strong, and sometimes fiction sneaks in alongside the facts. For now, though, this book assures its spot in bedtime reading for those curious about how not to write a success story—or perhaps it’s a handbook on the art of political self-preservation.
