The first lines of the opening paragraph to “Living History,” former First Lady and current New York senator Hillary Clinton’s memoirs, is as banal as the contents that consume much of her story:

“I wasn’t born a first lady or a senator. I wasn’t born a Democrat. I wasn’t born a lawyer or an advocate for women’s rights and human rights. I wasn’t born a wife or mother.”

Hemingway she ain’t. You also weren’t born an author, Mrs. Clinton.

Clinton seems to hide behind her words: She tries to be sprawling and protective of an image. Though at times credible, most of her writings run on (upwards of 60 words to a single sentence) and are too simplistic to include “smart folk” words. Undoubtedly, Hillary had her thesaurus handy while writing.

Her memories of childhood are so vivid and detailed that you’d believe she was taking notes before she went to bed. Most are uninteresting, though these scribblings would come in handy approximately 45 years later when she decided to write a book about her life.

Clinton tells her story with such vibrant pomposity that I often asked myself while reading about her scatterbrained adolescence if I really cared.

I think it was the mix of poor writing and even worse editing that made me keep turning the pages. Clinton was reportedly paid $8 million to write her memoirs, and for that kind of scratch, you’d think it’d be better.

Clinton’s attempts at humor are flat and annoying, most of the time missing the feel she wants to give to her “normal folk” readers. The fault of this is due to the many people have not had the experience, or should I say, “lived the history” that Clinton has, therefore would have zero room to relate to her ramblings.

The lack of structure and nuances of humor gradually lessen by the second half of the book, thankfully leaving behind most of the ongoing descriptions into nowhere. Though nowhere near perfect, Clinton’s memoirs serve a minimal, if only sporadic, interest.

The arrogance of her self-reflection also diminishes as her story continues. Her experiences on the Nixon impeachment team is mildly interesting, though more so is her comments about her husband’s affair with Monica Lewinsky.

The most interesting part of “Living History” is Clinton’s tribulations with her image, a personal battle she has confronted since she and her husband had become the forefront of the public eye. Her memories about how she tried to deal with people attacking her for seeming like a controlling, self-important ice princess are gleaming insights.

It’s just too bad the rest of the book couldn’t have been as compelling.

Clinton’s memoirs are not the work of literary genius, though she hits her strides in small increments. At long last, “Living History” is almost 600 pages of worthlessness, a trial run for her bid as presidential candidate in the near future.

Whether you’re a Democrat, a Republican, or neither of the two, you probably won’t give a hoot or a holler about the history Clinton has supposedly lived.