Hello my lovely readers
Having said last week that I was finding my words easier whilst doing academic instead of personal writing, this week's post offers me the opportunity to merge the two, through a book review.
The book in question is I Have No Secrets, the debut Young Adult novel by Penny Joelson, whose website you can find here. It centres on (and is narrated in first-person by) Jemma, a fourteen-year-old girl who happens to have Cerebral Palsy and no independent mobility or speech. Since my PhD thesis is about the importance of disability representation (albeit in theatre) you can probably imagine my literal - and loud - squeal on first discovering this new novel and character. That squeal was one of both joy and relief. Joy for my wheely teenage self, but more so for the selves of my friends without speech, who had to search even harder than I did for characters like them. Relief for the teenage readers of today, whose searches can now be that little bit shorter.
Coming from twenty-five-year-old me, this might seem a tad extravagant to some. Surely I stopped reading YA literature years ago? That is true, and probably far quicker than my peers - but I did so for precisely the reason that I have been so excited by this book. There were just so few contemporary (wheelchair-using) characters I identified with in the early 2000s, and I consequently sought refuge in the work of earlier periods like The Secret Garden and Heidi, despite the problematic elements of their narratives. The only noteable exception came in the form of The Worry Website, written by (the genre's stalwart and beloved) Jacqueline Wilson, in which a character called Natasha used the joint website set up by her class at school to communicate her concern and disappointment at being left out of various (read here: most) things. Even then, though, because the book threads together multiple perspectives from each of the class members, Natasha wasn't developed as much as she could've been in a novel solely focused on her experiences.
That's where I Have No Secrets and Jemma arrive and, I'd argue, give to YA fiction what I said in December that Tom Fletcher's The Christmasaurus gave to younger readers. A well-rounded and relatable individual whose physical disability is a significant, but not the defining, aspect of their identity. Jemma's distinctive 'narrative voice' (a phrase which emphasises the speech-centric nature of discourses around even the written word) challenges the audience to confront the 'differences' of her reality alongside proof of her similarity, by giving equal importance to hospital appointments (happy birthday, NHS, and thank you!) and concert visits.
This thread of sameness and difference, and the parallel considerations of absence and presence, is woven into every level of the novel's tapestry - and it is all the richer for these nuances and, the first (and perhaps most important) of which is evident in the title. Jemma indeed has 'no secrets', as she requires support with all personal care - and yet her lack of an adequate communication method means that everyone around her feels safe to share theirs. This paradox is the hinge for some crucial circumstances in the plot (which is gripping and enough of a recommendation to read it on its own). However, if you are interested in inclusion and equity, it also has wider implications, because it raises questions about the power we place behind 'speech' as a society - and who is considered capable (or worthy) of the privilege. I call it a privilege, because it is something the majority of people are lucky enough not to have to think about; but really, it's a right.
As Jemma herself puts it, thinking about a hydrotherapy session, sometimes those around her and her friends 'forget that we are people who need to be talked to as well'. I'd extend that to propose that the novel is a reminder that people with disabilities, and especially those without speech, deserve not only to be 'talked to', or even 'talked about', but to 'talk' for ourselves - in 'real life', of course, and now, at last in fiction.
So, on that note, I'm going to stop my own rambling, and end with gratitude to Penny Joelson for writing it and to all of you for reading it - because I'm sure you'll want to, if only to pre-empt my periodic nagging!
Love until next week
Jx
