very strange story. ( )

A curious little memoir which I find difficult to assess. I picked it up in a small independent bookshop just because it looked interesting, and I was aware of Athill's recent reputation as a grand old sage of the publishing world. It tells the story of her friendship with Hakim Jamal, a young writer and follower of Malcolm X who she worked with and who stayed with her in the late 60s, and his descent into madness, delusions of divinity and associations with dangerous friends that led to the murders of Jamal's white English acolyte and girlfriend, then of Jamal himself. The portrait that emerges is both warm and frightening, but Athill never quite loses her reserve. ( )