Democratic presidential candidate Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton, D-New York, speaks during a church service at First Baptist Church, Sunday March 4, 2007 in Selma, Ala.
March 07, 2007
The Orlando Sentinel
WASHINGTON -- Is Hillary Clinton's inevitability less inevitable?
The growing consensus seems to be that the former first lady's ascendancy as first woman president of the U.S. is less assured than previously thought, thanks in large part to the junior senator from Illinois, Barack Obama.
This is polite talk from the emperor's court. The naked truth is, Hillary has a bigger problem than Obama. Anyone who has heard her speak knows what it is, so we may as well talk about it.
That voice.
Every time Hillary opens her mouth, Americans are reminded of two things: (1) she's not Bill, and (2) she's as tone-deaf in the presence of human beings as she was singing "The Star-Spangled Banner" in Iowa recently.
Until that moment, it was not known that anyone could sing that badly. To her credit, Hillary has since poked fun at herself, offering to step away from the microphone, for example, when a group was about to sing "Happy Birthday.''
No one can help the voice they're born with -- much. But they can learn to adjust the volume, and to take the temperature of a room before speaking. And especially, to avoid faking a local accent, pretending to be something they're not. Southern, for instance.
In Selma, Ala., last weekend at the "Bloody Sunday'' commemoration, Hillary auditioned for a dual role -- not just Southerner, but Southern preacher in the style of a Martin Luther King Jr.
That dry rustling you hear is the sound of millions of people cringing.
It was clear that Hillary was trying to imitate the oratorical style of her black predecessors to the pulpit -- something no white person should ever attempt. But what she must have imagined sounded like passion was to mere mortals the screech of an angry woman.
Her audience, nevertheless, was polite and affirming (Southerners are like that), even as she turned on the worst fake accent since Kevin Costner played Robin Hood. Shouting the words from a gospel hymn, Clinton was so off-key that anyone tuning in would have assumed it was a joke -- a parody of a politician speaking in native tongues, Granny Clampett auditioning on "American Idol.''
"I DON'T FEEL NO WAYS TIRED,'' she said with the robotic twang of a computer generated Southerner. "I COME TOO FARRRR FRUM WHERE I STARTED FRUM. NOBODY TOLD ME THAT THE ROAD WOULD BE EASY.''
Somewhere deep in the brains of every man listening was a little lizard shouting: Somebody hit the mute button, for God's sake, hit the mute!
In politics, we're not supposed to talk about style over substance, especially when it comes to women. But no male politician would get away with what Hillary pulled in Selma. Moreover, speaking style is not irrelevant to leadership, as Americans have noted the past six years.
Tone. Voice. Cadence. These may seem superficial, less important than the substance of a candidate's message. But they suggest something innate about the person speaking -- awareness (or the lack thereof) and the ability to merge with an audience, to persuade, calm, inspire and reassure. Or not.
When a person's style distracts from substance, we have a problem. When a person's voice makes listeners recoil and want to be somewhere else, that person is not going to be an effective communicator.
But what about substance? What was Clinton thinking when she hijacked a gospel hymn and effectively mocked her audience? Her speech exposed not just an incompetent ear, but disrespect for the people gathered.
Would Clinton affect a Brooklyn accent with a Jewish audience remembering the Holocaust? OY VEY, LEMME TELLYA, HONEY!
The female Clinton, unlike her husband, simply lacks a feel for communication, no matter how many hugs she delivers. While President Clinton could become one with his audience -- his slightly hoarse voice conveying so much empathy that the hungry wanted to feed him -- Sen. Clinton's voice sends mannequins into a fetal curl. She is the rain to Bill's parade.
It may not be Hillary's fault that her voice sounds like it was fashioned from metal, but it is her fault that she sounds like a car alarm when she's handed a microphone. It is her fault that she panders -- badly -- to her audiences.
Her performance last weekend in Selma revealed more than atonality. Like a warped bell, Hillary Clinton rings untrue.
kparker@orlandosentinel.com
No comments:
Post a Comment