The Misanthrope’s Corner

THE woman of mystery has never been an American type. Maintaining a vague “past” runs up against high-school yearbooks, friendly seatmates asking “Whereya from?,” and TV shows such as This Is Your Life where everyone we would prefer to forget comes crashing through a rose-covered trellis.

We have always associated the woman of mystery with unstable Middle European governments that fell a lot and citizens with forged “papers” who went underground a lot, but that’s all changed now. Monica Lewinsky has taken the woman of mystery and painted her red, white, and blue all over, especially red. Thanks to her Vanity Fair photo-op and the reception accorded it, American women have learned how to be mysterious in a democracy: do something so idiotic that people from all walks of life lie awake nights racking their brains trying to figure out why you did it.

About the Author

Florence King

Florence King was a contributing editor of National Review.

THE woman of mystery has never been an American type. Maintaining a vague “past” runs up against high-school yearbooks, friendly seatmates asking “Whereya from?,” and TV shows such as This Is Your Life where everyone we would prefer to forget comes crashing through a rose-covered trellis.

We have always associated the woman of mystery with unstable Middle European governments that fell a lot and citizens with forged “papers” who went underground a lot, but that’s all changed now. Monica Lewinsky has taken the woman of mystery and painted her red, white, and blue all over, especially red. Thanks to her Vanity Fair photo-op and the reception accorded it, American women have learned how to be mysterious in a democracy: do something so idiotic that people from all walks of life lie awake nights racking their brains trying to figure out why you did it.