The Bottom Line
By Valerie Paradiz; 242 pages. Subtitle: A Family's Journey into the Community and Culture of High-Functioning Autism and Asperger's Syndrome
Like many a special-needs mothering memoir before it, this is as much about the emotional journey of the parent as the developmental journey of the child, but it has a refreshing take on autism as something to be considered and celebrated rather than cured, and there are interesting characters to meet along the way.
Pros
- Literary style makes this more like reading a good novel than a parenting book
- Reading about other families often helps us find insight into our own
- Digressions on famous autistics well-done and interesting
- Introduction to autistic self-advocacy will be empowering to many readers
- Elijah's an engaging little guy
Cons
- Writing style, while ultimately enjoyable, may take some getting used to
- Some readers may expect a "cure" that never comes
- Autistic self-advocacy may make some parents uncomfortable
Description
- Chapter 1: Elijah's Cup
- Chapter 2: The Gift of Loss
- Chapter 3: Perfect Strangers
- Chapter 4: The Coincidence of Sharron Loree
- Chapter 5: Nietzsche in the Bathtub
- Chapter 6: My Father Was a Yakker
- Chapter 7: Echolalia Fun Fun Fun
Chapter 8: Balloon Days - Chapter 9: Cartoons Don't Get Hurt
Chapter 10: Life Under Glass - Chapter 11: Playground Comedian
Chapter 12: Cracking Code - Web Sites by and for Autistic People and for Autistic Advocacy
Guide Review - Book Review: Elijah's Cup
I've posited before that moms and dads write different sorts of books about their special-needs children: Mom-moirs tend to be more personal and emotional, focused on the day-to-day struggles of parenting, while dads tend to take breaks from the frontlines to research their child's disability. "Elijah's Cup" is certainly personal and emotional, and has its fair share of day-to-day struggling; but this mom also does her homework, writing about the early research into autism and Asperger's and presenting "case studies" of undiagnosed but likely autistics, from Einstein and Wittgenstein to the Andys Warhol and Kaufman.
Where this book really departs from the normal "how I saved my child from the terrible disability" genre is in its appreciation for the culture of autism and its understanding that the special perceptions and abilities of people with autism are more to be cultivated than cured. Paradiz and her son meet Jim Sinclair and other autism advocates; attend Autreats where participants wear cards around their neck to indicate the degree to which they're comfortable with contact; and enjoy little rituals like letting helium balloons go free. That may be a journey not all parents of children with autism will want to go along with, but acceptance and advocacy are destinations I'm happy to visit.
I'll admit that it took me a chapter or two to really get into the book and adjust to Paradiz's style. If you think this book's for you, stick with it.
