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A review by marajoy
The Autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X
after finishing any book i fall into a weird post-book depression, and knowing it's coming makes me start to intentionally read slower to delay the inevitable. in the case of an autobiography, particularly this autobiography, turning each page was devastating knowing the end. around 70% i just looked at my progress in the book and it struck me that this progress is also the time progressing in malcolm x's life again. i spent the entire past semester reading life writing texts, but something about malcolm x's way of conveying his life enlivened him in a way i experienced with no other writer. i'd be curious to know if the people who knew him would agree, but it truly does feel like these pages replicated his self incredibly authentically. especially his emotions of anger, love, and revelation; they are so clearly communicated that they would manifest in anyone who reads his words. it definitely comes somewhat from the nature of the autobiography's creation through alex haley's reconstructions based on conversational interviews with malcolm x–the conversational nature is what really brought it to life. haley completely captured the beautiful and horrible sense of writing about someone you knew and admired or loved in the hindsight of their still unfathomable loss. going in, admittedly all i knew was that malcolm x was a radical civil rights activist, a muslim, and was assassinated. my learning about his ideologies, convictions, actions, and impacts through his autobiography was certainly enriched by understanding them through the lens of his lived experience that formed him into the man he was. the summary on the back saying that you need to read this to truly understand america was right.
"Four hundred years the white man has had his foot-long knife in the black man's back—and now the white man starts to wiggle the knife out, maybe six inches! The black man's supposed to be grateful? Why, if the white man jerked the knife out, it's still going to leave a scar!"
"Four hundred years the white man has had his foot-long knife in the black man's back—and now the white man starts to wiggle the knife out, maybe six inches! The black man's supposed to be grateful? Why, if the white man jerked the knife out, it's still going to leave a scar!"