An enormous - and enormously complex - autobiography of Mandela's life. I'm not going to lie, it took me months to get through it. Not because it's badly written or confusing (it isn't) but because I kept wanting to stop and think and digest what I'd just read - and let's face it, the subject matter deserves the courtesy. The dismantling of apartheid in South Africa was a monumental effort, and this book doesn't skim over any of it. Mandela is careful to spread the credit around, as it was only through the combined dedication, work, and risk of many that the political revolution in SA succeeded. Even so, it speaks to an underlying graciousness of character, and it's Mandela himself who's the central figure holding this narrative together.

He's become an icon now, of course, and it's always a dangerous thing to learn about icons... there's such a risk of disappointment, because a man is not a myth and no amount of myth-making can keep them from sharing in the ordinary pettiness of ordinary people. Yet this is one of those cases, I think, where that fundamental humanity actually serves the text. I'm not sure I could believe an account of someone imprisoned so unjustly for so long if it lacked even trace amounts of anger and bitterness, the regret at prices paid. Yet the fact that Mandela is relatively open about his feelings - even if he says it's difficult for him - makes I think his struggle to compromise and look forward and even forgive, a little, a more affecting and admirable one.

It really is an extraordinary book. And as long as it took me to read, I can't say that I'm sorry. Some things take far more time than they should, but others simply should not be rushed.