New Yorker review of Woodward's "Fear"

There’s nothing comparable in American journalism, except maybe Woodward’s “The Final Days,” co-written with Carl Bernstein, about the downfall of Richard Nixon. Yet even Nixon—drunk late at night and talking to paintings in the White House residence—seems relatively sane and pitiable compared with Donald Trump. You half expect to find Woodward’s Trump ordering the execution of the entire National Security Council, declaring himself a god on Twitter, then anointing his daughter as heir to the throne.

  New Yorker

Two out of three, I dare say, are a given.

At Trump’s core lies a need always to look strong, which, of course, makes him look weak. In several scenes, one adviser or another struggles to find the right, flattering words that will keep the President from starting a nuclear war.

[...]

There’s no end to the Cabinet members and generals whom Trump is eager to insult in front of their colleagues, or to fire by tweet. A coarse and feckless viciousness is the operating procedure of his White House, and the poison spreads to everyone. Only snakes and sycophants survive.

[...]

One of his most detailed, most revealing scenes takes place in the Tank, the secure windowless meeting room of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, in the summer of 2017. Cohn and Defense Secretary James Mattis conspire to bring Trump across the river to the Pentagon in order to impress upon him the importance of the American-led international order of security partnerships and trade treaties. The presentation quickly collapses under Steve Bannon’s sophistic questioning. Trump, who cares only about scoring a profit off allies, keeps repeating, “It’s all bullshit!” He announces his intention to tear up the defense treaty with South Korea—“Pull the fucking thing out! I don’t give a shit”—and soon leaves.

[...]

The book begins with Cohn removing a one-paragraph letter that awaits Trump’s signature on the Oval Office desk and that would end the Korean-American trade agreement. Cohn is counting on the President’s flickering consciousness to make him forget about the letter and the impulse to undermine an important ally. But Trump keeps demanding another draft, for destroying alliances is—along with hatred of the press—his genuine, unquenchable passion in politics. His stamina in pursuit of these demons is impressive. Every day in his White House has the disintegrating feel of final days, but the next day is the same, and the story never ends.

...but hey, do what you want...you will anyway.