More than one way to skin a diversity
Two contrasting but valuable approaches to neurodiversity will move the conversation forward as well as being great, wholesome, funny reads.
I have ended up reading two excellent books recently in which comedians relate their stories of discovering their own neurodiversity1, and explain what this means to them, to the reader, and to wider society.
The books are Pierre Novelli’s Why Can’t I Just Enjoy Myself? and Robin Ince’s Normally Weird and Weirdly Normal. To get it out of the way, I am not going to tell you which one is better, but they approach the topic in quite different ways, so if you only have time to read one, then which works best will depend on your own approach and interests.
Novelli’s is the more focused text- it starts from a heckle- he was recounting some of the peculiarities of his experience on stage, and an audience member piped up that maybe Pierre, like him, was autistic. The exploration of the process from here, and the explanation of what Autism actually means and feels like, has seldom been bettered. As a non-autistic but neurodivergent person, I found myself nodding vigorously at some of the explanation of relationship problems, and if it were just a tiny bit less sweary I would probably recommend it to my patient’s families when I diagnose Autism in clinic2.
This makes it sound a little dry, but really it’s not- the whole thing is suffused by Novelli’s wit- he specialises in the self-deprecating aside which works beautifully with the narrative and welcomes the reader in. A comparison with Fern Brady’s similarly themed book is instructive- Brady’s book is more passionate, angry and perhaps impactful, but Novelli’s is far more encouraging and inclusive.
It’s not perfect- in his description of autism he adopts the position of autism advocates, that there is a clear and definite demarcation between autistic and non-autistic brains, with no grey area. This is an understandable reaction to the potentially dismissive “but aren’t we all a little autistic?”, but it’s not really true. There is grey area between neurodivergent and typical brains- any way you capture the features of neurodivergence, they appear on a continuum from typical to atypical, and the distinction is, to an extent, always going to be subjective. That’s why it’s not going to be a diagnosis made by AI anytime soon, thank god.
But for me, this fuzzy boundary between divergence and typicality is an opportunity for empathy- if we can all share to an extent in the autistic experience, but appreciate that for diagnosed people it is far more intense, isn’t that a better seeding bed for empathy than ‘you may think you experience this, but you don’t’?
The converse danger of the ‘clear blue water’ between the divergent and the typical is jokingly alluded to by Novelli himself, when he worries prior to his assessment “I was terrified they would say ‘Nope, says here you’re just a c*nt’”. If you are either entirely typical or autistic, then you will cause a lot of problems for diagnosis and support for the vast numbers of people who have some features of Autism, but not to the extent that is diagnosable. This hard dichotomy may also fuel overdiagnosis, which I have discussed elsewhere.
I realise I have spent a lot of words on a small criticism of a really fantastic book- critics, huh?
Robin Ince’s book is quite a different beast, albeit that it covers a superficially similar trajectory of discovery. It’s less focused, partly by design- Ince does not seem very interested in categorisations and neurology, and the core of the book is personal experience- his own and, crucially, those of the hundreds of people he has spoken to about their experience of neurodivergence. This gives the text more richness and diversity, and makes clear the intersection between neurodivergence and other identities, and the challenges this may bring3 . On the other hand, if you are looking for a guide to what life might be like for a person with X condition, this could potentially be a frustrating read, given the sheer diversity of experience on show.
He is very interested in the relationship between trauma and neurodivergence, writing movingly in an early chapter about his mother being involved in a serious road accident, and the impact this had on the growing Robin. Although he has a medical diagnosis of ADHD, he’s not that interested in the medical model- it is the process of personal identification that was important, not the specific diagnosis. He also talks briefly about medication- he has found anti-depressants helpful, while being uninterested in the conventional ADHD treatment. This is very much consistent though with his whole-person, holistic approach, as opposed to a diagnostically led one.
He also writes very much as he talks- the impression is of an edited stream of consciousness, with diversions and asides that feel very much less planned than Novelli’s. And of course this makes sense, as the ADHD and Autistic brains are quite distinct, albeit that many people are both. It is occasionally confusing, but makes up for it in the charm and sheer energy of it, bowling along and never outstaying his welcome in your head.
So, which book do I recommend? For a guide to what Autism is and what the autistic person in your life might be thinking, you cannot do better than Pierre Novelli. If what you are after is a celebration of neurodivergent joy, the Robin Ince is your man. We are very lucky to have them both.
A review copy of Normally Weird and Weirdly Normal was provided. Which is a first!
Music time: I’m really into Divorce right now. Not that sort- the harmonising, passionate indie noise makers from Nottingham.
Quick explanatory note: neurodiversity is the phenomenon of ‘brain difference’ within humanity, neurodivergence is the experience of having a different brain.
Most readers will know this but I’m pretty heavily invested in the neurodivergent space. Still, this review isn’t about me, so I will spare you my CV.
In fairness, Novelli is very clear that his is a privileged position and he has it substantially easier than most