The over-riding thought that crossed my mind as I delved into this astonishing book was that no modern publisher would have the courage to even approach it within ten miles. Several years after Lewis had reached the zenith of his career, he unleashed this brutally honest satire on the state of race relations in post-WWII America. Neil Kingsblood, a longtime resident of Grand Republic, MN, had led a life similar to that of all his white suburban neighbors. His prejudice towards Grand Republic's (segregated) black community was one of indifference and ignorance rather than outright hostility. However, when he discovers that he is descended from a black French-Canadian fur trapper on his mother's side, an internal turmoil ensues. Should he disclose his lineage and be subject to the "1% laws" then in effect, or should he remain silent for the sake of his family (and his career)? Ultimately, he can't keep the secret as he is desperate to understand what it means to be a black American in the 1940s. The tumult that follows is both maddening and heartbreaking. My one criticism of the book, when compared to Lewis' other brilliant novels, is the absence of the author's usual sly and subtle approach to satire. He attacks the everyday racism that was part of the lives of these white northerners with a sledgehammer, making much of the dialogue a difficult read through modern sensibilities. But there is hope, and a kind of redemption, in the character of Neil Kingsblood that readers in our time may very well find enlightening.