In the book's acknowledgements, Woodward cites his wife's criticism of early drafts: "You're not saying what you mean." The concern carries as Woodward seems eager in Rage for impartiality to the extent it can read as coddling -- and Trump, history will find, has been the most coddled of presidents -- while the journalist's criticisms are included but tempered on the page. What Woodward does is present nearly verbatim conversations with Trump in which he attempted to pin the president down on an issue (any issue), and sometimes lead the president to admit a certain position, attitude, or policy -- or even the logic of such. Woodward is clearly hoping for us to see the obvious, and judge for ourselves, but the question here is at what point is distanced and supposedly objective journalism a disservice to the truth? What does Woodward offer here that any transcript of any other interview with Trump does not provide? And that is the disappointment of the book: that it feels as if Woodward took the opportunity for access at the expense of avowal. We learn how close to war we came with North Korea (close ), and we read the strange love letters between the two country's leaders, but if we are to be honest, Trump is mentally impeded, and the impediments are here obvious and everywhere. Instead of innuendo and aside, Woodward should have listened to his wife. Rage feels the way we will find in our historical reflections yet to come how the entirety of the response to Trump will feel: as an opportunity not simply missed, but misunderstood. One in which our indulgence of the madman came so well hidden in our condescension that it makes us feel dirtier in the aftermath for having come away with what little we got.