The book is bad ... Melania’s tendency to skate over useful information in favor of gassing up her husband ... In at least one place, she has ripped language from previous interviews and statements without attribution ... Readers hoping for an intimate glimpse of the relationship between Mr. and Mrs. Trump, following the earliest moments of their relationship, will be disappointed.
Slim ... A brazen whitewash of a presidency and a marriage of some tumult ... Less a confessional than a C. V., most notable for what it leaves out than what it includes.
She appears to have turned not caring into its own superpower ... Trump’s first impeachment gets about one page, compared with about four devoted to Melania’s failed caviar-based skin-care brand from 2013 ... What is fascinating about the book—if you can bear being beaten over the head with adjectives—is how early on Melania learns that the art of selective attention will set her free ... Fact-checking her memoir is, in some ways, beside the point.
Those hoping for an intimate peek at the private lives of the Trumps will be disappointed. This book is deeply weird. It isn’t clear from Melania’s description of her family members that she has actually met them ... Even Melania’s pre-political memories are lifeless ... Melania is a profoundly sad document of a woman peering down on her own existence from the penthouse suite, unable to identify any of the figures half a kilometre below, but trying nonetheless to interpret what life might be like down there ... Beware: the desire to hunt for depths within women where they don’t exist is a holdover from past feminist interventions, a wish to humanise the scapegoats of the past.