When you discover that a person has written six books of autobiography, you’re bound to wonder: Is she just a prolific narcissist, or has she really lived a six-volume life? If she’s Maya Angelou, there’s no doubt that the latter is the case: So compelling is her private story, so extravagant her public gifts, so generous her embrace of every level of experience that six volumes hardly seem enough. These books—written over a span of thirty years—cover only half of the author’s remarkable life. In fact, the last volume ends with her just beginning to write the first