“Hello. I am Hillary Rodham Clinton, and this is the Graham Norton Show.” The almost-holder of what was once the loftiest imaginable office was surprisingly game for a bit of British kitsch: warm, indulgent and dressed in yellow, like a president on a kindergarten walkabout.
She is still too grand for some of Graham Norton’s antics. She wasn’t sold on the idea of sharing a sofa with another celebrity. You cannot blame her. The chat-trading of Norton’s ersatz dinner party environment is inherently high-risk. You could be in the middle of the most profoundly revealing story – one you could have saved for a love affair, or your Vanity Fair profile – and be eclipsed by someone’s anecdote about finding a caterpillar in their cheese sandwich.
Beam - Norton - Curiosity - Book - Incongruity
So it was just her in the beam of Norton’s irresistible curiosity. And while she has a book to promote – What Happened – there was still this pressing incongruity of her normality. She arrived on stage wearing a surgical boot which she explained in an anecdote neither interesting nor uninteresting, just ambiently pleasant to listen to, like cicadas. “I was running down the stairs in heels with a cup of coffee in hand,” – a break for a short homily on how unwise it was to run with coffee – “I was talking over my shoulder and my heel caught and I fell backwards”. She broke her toe. She had excellent medical care from our “English medical system” (little shout out for the NHS, thoughtful and serendipitous). Well. You sound perfectly … nice. How come nobody ever mentions that you’re perfectly nice?
Graham Norton’s line of questioning was pretty bold: did she feel jinxed? You know, all geared up in 2008, then Obama came along (“well he was an excellent president”). Then in 2016 Bernie Sanders...
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