The Way Things Look To Me
When I started reading The Way Things Look To Me by Roopa Farooki I thought, “Oh no. Here we go again.” The story revolves around an autistic girl called Yasmin and it soon became obvious that Farooki had done her research – rather too obvious. For Yasmin is no ordinary autistic girl. She is an autistic savant with a history of seizures. She has a perfect memory and a talent for languages and mental arithmetic. She loves classical music and because of her synaesthesia she experiences music as both colour and texture. She expects to pass her A levels with 3 A’s and a B and have her pick of university places. Just for good measure she can draw like Stephen Wiltshire! And they are making a TV documentary about her.
I am reminded of Christopher, the protagonist in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, who, despite critical acclaim for the novel, annoyed many autistic adults of my acquaintance. They objected to a portmanteau figure who was crammed with so many autistic features that he became a caricature rather than a character. For some there was also the uncomfortable feeling that they and not the “Incident” were the real subject of curiosity, alongside resentment that a neurotypical author and his publisher were profiting from turning their neurodiversity into a freak show.
Farooki seems aware of this and the text is replete with indications of her own intention to treat autism with respect. The briefing for the documentary refers to the gift of Aspergers. Yasmin shows signs of improvement rather than getting better. Aspergers is a difference rather than a disease. Thus we have a novel that is written under a tremendous burden to be both accurate and politically correct about autism. A lesser writer would fail under this double interdiction. But Farooki has such a firm grasp of character and plot that she succeeds in telling a story that is engaging and convincing to the end.
This novel is not just Yasmin’s story. Her siblings, Lila and Asif, are if anything even more important to the story. They blame her for their unhappy childhood and she is a convenient scapegoat for the current difficulties in their lives. Lila, who is in her own words a shallow bitch, believes her own self worth is literally skin deep and feels betrayed by the eczema that compels her to scrape and groom this treacherous skin in order to present an acceptable image to the world. Asif has no problem presenting a respectable image to the world. He is, as his mother always told him, a good boy. But his impeccable behaviour conceals a person torn by self doubt and recrimination. Asif may be a good boy but he thinks of himself as a bad person.
Yasmin herself says a lot but does remarkably little in the story. Nevertheless she exerts a controlling influence through her perfectly articulated commentary that grips the reader. Will she succeed? Will Lila and Asif ever find happiness? And what about Yasmin’s happiness and desire? Does that count for anything? Farooki makes everything count in a tale that combines familial dysfunction with an honest appraisal of personal disability. She manages this so expertly that it leads to a totally convincing denouement that leaves the reader guessing right up to the end.
The Curious Incident introduced autism to the mainstream of modern literature. It waved the flag and said, “Hey, this is autism.” The Way Things Look To Me goes further. It asks questions of its characters and of us, its readers in relation to autism. This makes it a better book than The Curious Incident. It is an important book like Elizabeth Moon’s “The Speed of Dark.” She combined her experience as the parent of an autistic son with her expertise as a science fiction writer to envisage a future world in which childhood autism had been eliminated and the remaining autistic adults were tolerated for their unique abilities while being resented for those self same abilities. The Curious Incident moved autistic adults to anger. The Speed of Dark moved them to tears. I do not know what they will make of The Way Things Look to Me. But this neurotypical enjoyed it immensely. Roopa Farooki knows how to write.
