Conceptually, this novel would have garnered more stars had it been written by a more masterful hand. The concept of a woman passing and her intra-racial hatred for her husband, culture, and son's inability to live up to her perceived expectations of his blood is a tremendous idea and criticism. Sadly, Himes is quite the inept writer. There is so much superfluity, confounding plot holes, and redundant contradictions that the book took me far too long to read. I'd like to have seen it attempted by a writer with more skill because the idea is striking. Alas, Himes's roman a clef thumps with a autobiographical thud.