Untypical: How the World Isn't Built for Autistic People and What We Should All Do About It

by Pete Wharmby

But first...

Some Notes on Books

I am, at least in fits and starts, an avid reader. Books have and continue to be a very important part of how I have learned about neurodiversity (as well as lots of other things). To be completely honest, I prefer books, especially real paper ones, to websites and blogs. I can admire them on my bookshelf and fill the edges with post-it notes. I can see see how far along I am in the book with a quick glance at how the pages fall open, and I can feel the satisfying texture of the paper beneath my hands as I flip pages.

I hope that book-related posts will become a regular feature of this blog. I am not, however, a literary critic, and these are not always going to be book reviews, exactly. There are a lot of books I'd like to talk about here, but I often find I'll retain certain parts of a book that particularly stand out to me, but forget about the other 200 pages, especially if any length of time has elapsed since I first read the book. That doesn't seem like a fair basis for a book review. And yet I really don't feel like re-reading my entire library (modest though it may be) before discussing some salient idea or anecdote remembered from one of my books.

So, if I post about a book here, it is a fair assumption that it has been influential to me in some way or another, and is, in my opinion, worth a read. Perhaps you will discover some good bits I have completely forgotten.

Now, back to Pete Wharmby's book, Untypical

This book is written by an author who received an autism diagnosis only well into adulthood. He writes of his experience as a masked autistic. I found this a warm, accessible, and wide-ranging read that provides a nuanced overview of non-stereotypical autism. He covers concepts ranging from the generally familiar (e.g., autistic special interests, sensory issues, and communication challenges) to the lesser known (e.g., alexithymia, autistic inertia, and Pathological Demand Avoidance). His stories describe the autistic experience in many settings from school to the workplace and everyday life, with particularly astute insights into educational environments.

This book would make a fantastic read for anyone coming to terms with their own late-discovered neurodiversity, or for anyone who has ever caught themselves wondering either internally or out loud "but you don't seem autistic." The author's sense of justice shines through keenly and steadily.

This book also felt like a homecoming to me. Although I have never received a formal diagnosis, I do believe myself to be on the autism spectrum. I consider myself to be a fellow masked (sometimes well, sometimes poorly) autistic. The vast majority of this book felt so relatable to me, putting so many ill-defined feelings into words. It almost made me want to meet the author in person, perhaps at a cozy pub by a fireplace, for a chat. Except I think we'd both rather saw our arms off with a rusty spoon before enduring such an ordeal.

Telephones

Of the many relatable anecdotes in this book, the author's excoriation of Alexander Graham Bell and his fiendish invention, the telephone, was the most memorable to me and warrants a special mention. In fact, it may be the single most validating thing I have ever read. I feel so seen!

Anger

With all that being said, the real reason this book is the subject of my first book-related blog post is a single paragraph in the Introduction. In it, the author describes how the writing of his book was fueled by anger, an anger stemming from the frustration, confusion and hurt of the autistic community. I am intrigued at how he managed to transform that fury into a book characterized by compassion and justice.

Since our journey through the medical system with Oranguette in crisis, specifically in our dealings with what I have referred to as Institution 1, I have been hounded by rage. Righteous anger drove the advocacy that eventually pulled Oranguette out of crisis, but even long after the fact, pointless rage is a frequent visitor that keeps me awake many nights. I hope that writing this blog can transmute my own fury into curiosity and insight.