American Scoundrel
Cut along the dashed lines and pass the cards around the table.
Before you opened the book, what did the name Roy Cohn mean to you (a headline, a half-memory, a relative's offhand comment, or nothing at all)?
Where did you do most of your reading of this one, and did it need a particular setting (a quiet chair, daylight, something warm nearby) to sit comfortably with you?
This is a book about a man who collected powerful friends. Tell us about a time someone's introduction or phone call opened a door for you, and how that felt.
Bird writes about a world where everything runs on favors owed. Did any part of that make you think warmly about your own circle of people who show up for each other, or did it mostly unsettle you?
Roy Cohn's parents loom over his story. What did the family material stir up for you about the expectations you grew up inside, gentle or otherwise?
Was there a passage where you felt unexpected tenderness or pity toward a man you were fully prepared to dislike? Read us a few lines if you marked them.
Bird and Goldmark spend years with a subject many people would rather not sit with. What do you think it costs a biographer to keep that much company with someone, and did you feel that cost in the writing?
Closing the book, what feeling were you left holding (sadness, anger, a strange sympathy, relief), and did it surprise you to find yourself feeling it?