.png)
 |
| Victoria Allen |
As a self-proclaimed literary snob and bleeding heart liberal, I am indescribably finicky when it comes to my book selections. There is no challenge in reading your own opinions mirrored back at you in a book, not to mention it is counterproductive to what you should be gaining from any sort of read: new knowledge and perspective. However, my patience does have a limit, especially when it comes to reading and digesting things that I am in vehement disagreement with, which only serves to propagate my academic frustrations. This leaves me in a literary quandary, and the occasion where I can find a book that will not only challenge my thoughts and beliefs, but does not force me to achieve martyrdom in order to complete it is a rare one indeed.
I’m not exactly sure if the autobiography of Clarence Thomas, My Grandfather’s Son, fits this criterion, but my difficulty with Justice Thomas’ policy opinions is completely outweighed by my fascination with his life story. The pretention of any memoir is always something that a reader must prepare oneself for, but Thomas’ book was not only completely devoid of arrogance, but indescribably honest. This is the hallmark of a great memoir. I will always disagree with what he stands for, but not with the way he carries and presents himself.
When I first began reading My Grandfather’s Son, I was taken aback by how much I enjoyed it. I happened upon the book by chance, and to be honest, I read it mostly to amuse myself. Even to the most cynical reader his story is captivating, and a few chapters in I became very aware of a fact that terrified me. I was in complete sympathy and concurrence with a young Clarence Thomas. I began the book with the mindset that every word I read would be dripping with his particular bias, but instead I found someone that mirrored my own opinions and fears. This revelation was terrifying and exhilarating.
This isn’t to say that I skipped across the aisle into Clarence Thomas’ staunchly conservative arms, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t sway me. My entire family is comprised of Democrats and Dixiecrats, and the idea of harboring conservative notions is an ominous one to say the least. In the same way that some families dread their daughters returning home for Thanksgiving with some wild eyed radical hippie is the same way that my family fears I’ll bring home a Republican boyfriend. To say the very least I was uncomfortable with my conservative awakening.
I continued devoting all of my time to my new beau, and while our honeymoon was sweet, it was also brief. Around the time that Justice Thomas reaches his mid to late thirties our disagreements begin to take shape. At first it was simply, “Why are you voting for Ronald Reagan?” Shortly following his tangible shift to the concrete right, I knew that our romance was over. But, from the ashes of our romance, something even more powerful was born: Respect. Thomas had always been a figure that I did not devote a lot of my thoughts to; simply because I knew it would create significant cognitive dissonance. After completing his book, I can rest easy, knowing that I won’t be running down to the courthouse anytime to change my voter registration. However what I can say is that I am a better scholar and liberal because of My Grandfather’s Son.
Victoria Allen of Auburn, Ky., is a freshman McConnell Scholar at the University of Louisville. She is studying history, political science and social change.