Book Recommendation - Reaching One Thousand

After I had been encouraged to read Reaching One Thousand, Rachel Robertson's memoir (subtitled A Story of Love, Motherhood & Autism) - encouraged for about the third or fourth time by different people - it jumped out at me while I was browsing in a Fremantle bookshop the other day, so I added it to my pretend basket, started reading that afternoon, and finished it the next day. Now that I have read this memoir not all that long after reading another that I reviewed on this blog, Maureen Helen's Other People's Country, I have discovered that I really do like well-written memoirs.

Rachel Robertson is a wordsmith, and teaches professional writing and publishing at Curtin University, so I guess I was always in good hands. I have a special interest in autism as a psychologist (not so much because of this) and because one of my loved ones has a similar identity - diagnosis?  (yes, mostly because of this). Something that Rachel Robertson has managed, that the professional paradigm does not do very well (although it strives for this), is to explore the relationship with her son, and autism itself, from a perspective of strength rather than deficit, and from a perspective of love, rather than clinical categorisation based on a rather vague notion of normality. In fact normality is more often understood by what it isn't, than what it is, and as such is difficult for anyone to attain. Even too much normality is sometimes construed as abnormal. Plus it's a moving target. Normality seems to shift around depending upon the ever-expanding list of abnormalities that it depends upon to gain its meaning. (Just to be clear - I'm speaking as a regular person, not as a psychologist).

The writer touches, but does not dwell, on socially constructed notions of normality as they impact upon ideas of autism and identity. More importantly this is a story of a mother and a son, as unique and as commonplace as any relationship between parent and child. Her son sounds like a great kid, by the way - smart, considerate and creative. As does her ex-husband, an involved parent, and this portrayal is just one of many examples of the ethical way in which Robertson manages the text.

Robertson also explores how the relationship with her son provides her with the great gift of enabling her to explore aspects of her own identity, and that of her parents - both gifted mathematicians - and to reach new insights. She shares these with the reader, and in the process this reader discovered more that was of help in appreciating and enjoying the uniqueness of those I love, than any scholarly paper might provide. I wondered about that too, the tendency for studies to focus on what was seen to be wrong rather than everything that is right. I suppose that is their purpose, to help out, but sometimes the too tightly controlled reductionist approach misses something vital. In statistics they call this - this chopping off something vital to fit the bed, or stretching it - Procrustean. In Greek mythology, Procrustes was the nasty innkeeper who made his customers fit the bed, and not the other way around. In this book, while due and genuine appreciation is given to the dedicated professionals working in the area who lend a helping hand, Robertson shows us that context has the most dramatic effect, and the way that we respond to our children, with love, courage, not too many preconceptions, and yes, enjoyment and a sense of fun, is ultimately what matters most. I would recommend this book to anyone interested in the exploration of identity and relationship.