Why didn’t I learn about Malcolm X in school? Before I read The Autobiography of Malcolm X, I was vaguely aware that X existed, and that he was more militant than Martin Luther King.

X had an extraordinary life, and Alex Haley (of Roots) convinced him to tell him his story in a series of interviews. Then Haley crafted those interviews into this book. During his life, Malcolm X went through the foster care system, shined shoes, wore a really regrettable zoot suit, dodged the draft twice, dealt drugs, stole Oriental carpets, served six years in prison, joined the Nation of Islam and became its most prominent spokesman, went on the Hajj, made friends with Muhammad Ali, and got himself banned from France.

I don’t know what to make of him. I think he was an unreliable narrator, certainly. I think I share his bilious view of American-style Christianity. I think his criticism of smug Northern liberals was totally on point and still relevant today. But man was he harsh on black civil rights leaders who wanted to fight for rights any way other than his way.

For all his criticism of white people, he was awfully light on policy demands. What did he want white people to do? Maybe white people were never his intended audience. Maybe he would have come around to some policies if he had lived longer.

X was sexist. He complains of the white men who just knew he was stupid, yet he just knows that women are weak. His blind spot is all the more amazing because his sister Ella stands as such a towering counterexample in this book. His wife, Betty, barely gets a voice in this book. I wonder what she thought about her life.

I wonder what Malcolm X would have made of black immigrants. People who have weighed their options and decided that America is a safer place to live than home.

I think Malcolm X danced at the outer provinces of sanity, like Daenerys Targaryen, and he made it into his strength.

I think my favorite chapter of the autobiography might have been Alex Haley’s afterword. When he’d finally convinced X to grant him an interview, X refused to talk to him. Haley was on the verge of giving up. But he noticed that X drank enormous amounts of coffee, and always scribbled on any piece of paper nearby. So Haley served X coffee with napkins, harvested the scribbled napkins, dated them, and cribbed from them for interview questions. I’m not sure what I think about X, but I definitely appreciate Haley.