Cascadia has just published a beautiful review essay of So Lucky by Sharma Shields.
There are layers upon layers in So Lucky. It’s a deftly-drawn story, bigger than just a woman fighting a monstrous disease.
It’s also a story about divorce, friendship, disability, community, love.
It’s a story about change and survival, from disease, yes, but also from assault.
It’s a novel that deftly penetrates society’s ableism, the tacit, constant ways we communicate to those with disabilities: ‘You are not whole. You are less.’
It’s even a suspenseful detective story. This subplot doubles as a stunning metaphor for the difficult process of securing a diagnosis: Are you sure what you’re feeling is real? Maybe this is all in your head…
Shields really gets the book: she’s not only an award-winning novelist, she has MS. It makes a sharp difference (compare this review to this one). Once again I’d like to suggest to review editor that, when assigning books for review, choose appropriate critics. The farther an author is from the privileged norm, the more deeply the assigning editor needs to consider the experience, identity, and empathy of the reviewer.
One day this won’t be true, but today, here and now, a nondisabled critic most probably would not have the understanding Shields does of what I’m doing in So Lucky. They would not be able to write this:
So Lucky is a boundless, fearless animal of a novel, made more boundless and fearless by talking so frankly about the ways illness limits us and terrifies us. It’s structurally ingenious and beautifully written, thrumming with breathtaking sentences that evoke in us a sense of deep empathy.
I’ll have more to say about this in the New Year. Meanwhile, go read the review essay. It’s a lovely piece of work.
Nicola Griffith 
I have not yet read So Lucky. I look forward to reading it soon.
I found a book that has a character that has high functioning autism that is the first time I have seen anything that actually resembles the experience my partner and I and other high functioning autistic people (ASPIES as some of us call ourselves).
An Excess Male by Maggie Shen King has a character Xiong-xin, who later changes his name to XX, who is a real person with real abilities and is ASPIE. I won’t spoil any of the story for you. She never says he has HFA, she just lets him be and lets him take charge of the story in his own way.
My partner of 45+ years and I were both diagnosed with HFA in our 60’s. I have been told that this is impossible, one has to be diagnosed as a child. Well, when we were born no one had noticed the pattern of behavior now known as HFA. In fact, our children and some of our grandchildren also are both on the spectrum though not diagnosed at this point. This caused all of us no end of grief during our lives. HFA had not become known in the schools when our children were in school. Now that our granddaughter who is now 10, has a teacher (who had another child in another school with HFA) suggesting that my granddaughter may be HFA as well. I had just been talking to my daughter-in-law about the possibility that this same granddaughter seemed to be on the scale. It has taken that long for such knowledge to get to the people who need to know it.
My father and grandfather both were also on the scale. My father died about 16 years ago. My grandfather died when my dad was 12. Knowing my father and hearing stories from various people who knew by grandfather I am sure they both were on the spectrum. If they had only known what we know now, their lives could have been so much less stressful. They were both farmers and jacks-of-all-trades.
Thank you, Nicola, for all your efforts on all kinds of CripLit.
I get so tired of people telling me things are impossible when I’ve actually experienced them! And, yes, diagnosis can be a gift. Enjoy So Lucky.