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The gamy tale told by Andersen (a biographer of Jack and Jackie Kennedy) is heartbreaking because it portrays Bill Clinton as a rapist, and because the juiciest of Andersen's scary stories are the toughest to pin down. Lots of his sources are anonymous, and when there's been conflicting public testimony, he tends to go with the most lurid accusations. If Bill really had a 30-year affair with Dolly Kyle Browning, one supposes he might have nicknamed her "Pretty Girl," but when she testifies that Hillary's body odor was overwhelming, one wants corroboration. Does Bill really proudly check off the days on his calendar when he doesn't cheat on Hillary? Did he chase Barbra Streisand around a piano, have rough sex with Miss America, grope a woman's breasts in the bathroom at his own wedding reception, and seduce a major campaign contributor's future niece-in-law at her engagement party? Did he bed Susan "Hot Pants" McDougal, rock groupie "Sweet Sweet Connie" Hamzy, Robyn "Thumbs" Dickey, Gennifer "Pookie" Flowers, three beauty queens, 30 different women while campaigning in Arkansas, and hundreds of others? Did Bill hit up 50 ex-lovers for campaign cash? Did a prostitute he met while jogging near the governor's mansion bear his child? Does Bill call Hillary "Hilla the Hun" and "The Warden," and did she bed suicidal White House legal advisor Vince Foster? Did stress over Bill's satyriasis send Hillary and Chelsea to the hospital? Are the Clintons as cruel, destructive, and hopelessly in love as Andersen claims? Who knows? If not, this is the raciest first-family fiction since Primary Colors. --Tim Appelo
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