Here is the concluding paragraph of Mr. Bromwich’s wan, almost apology, for Mrs. Clinton, he seems torn. Trump is such an easy target, he is always the Ringmaster of television fame. But Bromwich is a writer of the school of Murray Kempton, who married his talent as a political moralist, with a writing style that sometimes was hard to decipher, as to meaning, although it resembled a kind of poetry, at least to my younger self. Bromwich is easier to understand, his is a self-consciously literary style: sometimes arresting, at other times expressing superfluous garnish. But he seems to descend, in this last paragraph, into the demotic, that is surprising for such a practiced stylist.
The domestic state of the nation is so unpropitious in October 2016 that one may pity the winner of this election as much as the loser. We are living in a country under recurrent siege by the actions of crowds. There is the Tea Party crowd with their belief that global climate disruption is a scientific hoax; there is the Black Lives Matter crowd with their ambiguous slogan “No Justice, No Peace”; and there are more ominous developments, such as the acts of serial defiance of the federal government by the Bundy family in Nevada and Oregon. Whoever comes next will have the task of restoring respect for the law and a common adherence to the Constitution—the heaviest of burdens, even for a candidate prepared by training and disposition to carry it.