TJ’s Book and Film Summaries

In a Different Key by John Donvan and Caren Zucker

In a matter of decades, our understanding of autism has transformed it from a rare form of childhood schizophrenia to a neurotype characterizing an estimated 1 in 36 people now living. In a Different Key is the history of that transformation. Make no mistake, this is a history filled with misunderstandings, of bigotry, and of charlatans all too eager to take advantage of a vulnerable population for their own benefit. But it’s also a history of those refused to accept this status quo, who fought to create a more fair and equitable world for those who often couldn’t fight for it themselves. It’s a history of autism, yes, but In a Different Key also feels like a history of modern civilization in miniature. For anyone even remotely interested in autism, this book is essential reading. I should also mention that in 2022, the authors adapted their book into a documentary of the same name. Though only 100 minutes long, the documentary does an admirable job of condensing the major themes of the book, so I would recommend it, especially for those who may not want to immediately jump into a nearly 700 page book.

In a Different Key directed by John Donvan and Caren Zucker

When I learned that In a Different Key, the book I consider the definitive account of the history of Autism, had been adapted into a 100 minute documentary by the authors in 2022, I was a bit skeptical. The book is nearly 700 pages and spans close to a century - how could it possibly be adapted into a movie that didn’t even break the two hour mark? Well - I’m glad my skepticism didn’t get the best of me, because the movie turned out to be an admirable condensation of the major issues touched in the book. Instead of trying to retell the entire history of autism (which would’ve been a mistake), the film focuses on two primary figures: Don Triplett, the Mississippi man who was the first person ever diagnosed with autism, and Caren Zucker’s son Mickey, who’s currently living in a group home in Arizona. Cutting between the two men, the film uses the stories of their lives as springboards to discuss a wide variety of autism-related issues, including the history of the autism diagnosis, the fight to achieve educational rights for autistic children, even institutional racism preventing minority groups from finding a proper diagnosis and treatment. For those who are interested in autism, but may not want to necessarily commit to reading a long book on the subject, In a Different Key is a worthwhile watch - and by all means, if you enjoy it, consider reading the book afterwards. It has everything the movie does, and much more.

The Speed of Dark by Elizabeth Moon

Winner of the 2003 Nebula Award (the sci-fi equivalent to the Pulitzer), Elizabeth Moon’s The Speed of Dark centers on Lou, an autistic man who works alongside a cohort of fellow autistics at a large pharmaceutical company. One day, an obnoxious new manager, in a misguided attempt to cut costs, pressures Lou’s cohort to undergo an experimental medical procedure that “cures” autism - with this, they’re forced to consider what undergoing such treatment would mean for their very identity. For a book written in the early 2000s, Moon is quite forward thinking in her awareness of issues that would only come to the forefront decades later - corporations refusing to understand the long term value of accommodating their employees, neurotypical people not taking seriously the opinions of their neurodiverse peers, etc. Lou, as a person, seems to have a good outlook on the shortfalls of the neurotypical world - his narration is often blunt and disarming, in a very funny way. But this is not a book that romanticizes Lou as some sort of neurodivergent rebel - while it does take time to portray Lou as someone who sees the hypocrises of the “normal” world, he also struggles to exist comfortably in it. This all comes to a head after that obnoxious manager is fired for ethics violations - now, they will be given the voluntary choice to undergo the procedure, with no negative consequences if they refuse. Some do, some don’t - we aren’t told Lou’s choice until later, and that choice caught me off guard: he decides to go through with it. We’re told that a primary reason for his choice stems from a childhood dream of working in space, and that someone of his type is unsuited for such a life - further, he argues that people change for any number of reasons, and such a change, when made voluntarily, is a valid one. His decision is not portrayed in an entirely positive or negative light - while we learn that he did accomplish his dream of working in space, he is, in some ways, a new person from what he was - he’s lost touch with his old friends, he enjoys different things, etc. Not surprisingly, this is a divisive ending, and one that I struggled to come to terms with. While I respect Lou for the thoughtfulness of his choice, I couldn’t help but walk away feeling like I was watching Winston Smith learning to love Big Brother, with Lou himself acting as his own O’Brian. It’s entirely possible he could’ve found success working in space while remaining autistic - why the two should be seen as mutually exclusive is never stated - but he’s been conditioned to accept otherwise. It isn’t hard for a reader to place the blame on the outside world for forcing Lou to believe this - Moon spent most of the book in portraying its hostility. Whether it’s corporate bigwigs who care for nothing outside a positive value on their balance sheet, neurotypical people who see themselves as the final authority for how the “real world” should work, hostile people resentful of the “special treatment” autistics receive - this is not a world that feels very welcoming to those who fall outside the straight and narrow. This is punctuated further by the fact that we are told that science has found a way to eliminate autism on the genetic level for all newborns - Lou and his cohort are basically the last generation of adult autistics. Any society that views a normally occurring divergence in the human neurotype as something to be genetically corrected is probably not going to be sympathetic to your existence. For Lou - as for some others in his cohort - the positives just outweighed the negatives, and it’s as simple as that. Perhaps this new Lou sees his choice as the correct one, and I can’t take that away from him. However, as I said before, it’s hard for me to view it positively. You’re going to face challenges whether you’re neurotypical or autistic - furthermore, the onus should not be on you to change when so many of those challenges are caused by others failing to take into account that differences within the human population are normal, and should be celebrated. Lou felt the choice he made was the right one - personally, I’d rather live in a world where people like Lou would never have to make such a choice.

(The) Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon

When autistic secondary schooler Christopher Boone discovers his neighbor’s dog’s been killed, he decides to not only solve the mystery of the murder, but write a book about it too. Haddon’s unforgettable novel presents itself as Christopher’s book, told from his (very) limited first-person perspective that manages to feel simultaneously alien yet profoundly heartfelt.  Though Haddon portrays Christopher - a boy gifted with an extraordinary talent in math and logic - as singularly capable of solving the mystery, his portrayal of autism is not as one sided as it may appear. The novel is unafraid to examine the strain an autism diagnosis can place on a family - the characters try may try their best, but this does not prevent what are often intense and uncomfortable scenes of familial conflict. Nevertheless, these scenes of conflict are not given the last word, and the novel ends as both a celebration of the differences people like Christopher embody, but a dedication to try and create a world where people with those differences can thrive.