When I
was a kid, I hated The Phantom of the Opera. At first, I didn’t exactly
know why. It wasn’t until I came to enjoy it in college that I understood my
initial dislike. It wasn’t just because the story is depressing (what? it is!),
but that it also had an incredibly negative portrayal of a character who was
born with a facial deformity. Now, this post isn’t so much about how I learned
to empathize with the Phantom or whether or not he was justified in his actions
but rather about disability representation in literature.
For a
long time, most disabled characters were portrayed in a negative light. Shakespeare’s
Richard III was a despicable character and he was a hunchback (though it
is based on historical fact, there is still a lot of speculation put into the
play). Mary Shelly’s creature in Frankenstein was often likened to a
monster and hated mostly because he was hideous. Even Victor Hugo’s The
Hunchback of Notre Dame portrays Quasimodo, deaf and hunchbacked, as being hideous
despite being the most admirable character.
Once I
was able to understand the context of a story, like The Phantom of the Opera,
I was better able to appreciate it as a piece of literature, even if I disliked
it for those very reasons. This post is not about those stories though, but
rather a list of recommended contemporaries that have explored various stories
from various perspectives, from characters with physical disabilities to those
who are neurodiverse. Books are organized by authors’ last names.
Physical
disability representation.
Tessa
has been blinded after being in a car accident, and she doesn’t know if her
vision will even return. So her grandma helps her find somebody who can help
her write her poems, and he happens to have prosthetics. She initially tries to
refuse his help, but they quickly become friends.
Though
I’m not usually a fan of books shelved under the romance category, I really
enjoyed this one! I particularly liked how it seemed to start off being overly
cheerful, like seriously, Weston does seem too happy. But as the book goes on,
it explores his psychology as well, which I greatly appreciated.
Neurodiversity.
Sam just
wants to find another house to temporarily stay in with his brother Avery. Even
though Avery’s older, Sam feels like he has to take care of him. Then he
accidentally breaks into the wrong house, one that’s full of people, and
instead of getting arrested or kicked out, he makes a friend. This book is also
an #ownvoices story featuring characters on the autism spectrum.
Not to
mention the story actually helped me out of a bout of depression. Though it
didn’t actually speak to my circumstances at the time, it was still the story I
needed at that time.
Physical
disability representation and neurodiversity.
These
books are intense. Shoya is a boy who bullied Shoko, a partially deaf girl, in
his school until she left. Years later, isolated from the rest of his
classmates, he attempts to make amends. I particularly liked the way the story
addressed physical disability as well as the concept of forgiveness, which is
never as easy as it sounds. I’ve only read the first two Manga, but my sister
and I watched the Anime, and I cried. Twice.
Since
I’ve gone back to work, I’ve found it can be difficult to hear people when
everybody is wearing a mask. So I started using some sign language (ASL) to
communicate little things (e.g. single-file lines I dubbed “the snake” and used
the snake gesture), and I’m actually thinking about learning as much ASL as I
can. The only problem is that like other languages, sign language can differ
from country to country.
Neurodiversity.
Martin
is spending the summer in France with his mom and sister. As a teenager on the
autism spectrum, he may not always understand his family, but he is doing his
best to make friends at his local school. Not only are the characters stunning,
but the cultural aspects are great as well. I really appreciate how the author
touched on what it’s like to live in a foreign country, and how it can be
difficult whether or not one is neurotypical.
If you
haven’t noticed, I tend to lean toward books with autism representation. I have
several family members on the spectrum, so I like to do my best to understand their
perspectives. Yes, I realize you can only learn so much from fiction, but it’s
like the saying goes “When you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve met one
person with autism.” No two people are alike, and fiction is merely a tool that
I like to use to help me learn more.
Neurodiversity.
Finn is
determined to figure out what happened to Roza and why she disappeared. The
only problem: he’s face-blind, and recognizing people can pose some
difficulties. This kind of disability isn’t often addressed in fiction, and
more often than not, I’ve seen it done poorly instead of well. But Ruby does an
excellent job, and her writing style is stellar. I also like how this book has
fantastical, magical-realism-like elements to it, though it can be confusing at
times.
Physical
disability and neurodiversity.
Sam has
had to use crutches since a car accident that killed her mother and left her disabled
and dealing with bouts of depression. She ends up meeting Eliot, a boy who can’t
physically feel anything (Anhidrosis), by accident. As their friendship
develops, Sam struggles to remember what happened during the car accident. I
recently reread this one and enjoyed it just as much as the first time, though
it had more swearing than I remembered. Still a good read.
Neurodiversity.
Eliza
doesn’t like talking to people, so when she makes friends with Wallace, they
text each other for several days before they say anything aloud. She’s also the
author of a popular webcomic series, but nobody knows about her online
identity, not even Wallace, who’s a huge fan. Socially awkward adventures
ensue. Although my social anxiety has never been as bad as Eliza’s, I found her
story to be incredibly relatable.
Let’s chat!
Have you read any of these? Have they made it to your TBR? Do you actively seek
out books with disability representation? What are some of your favorites?
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