I find myself wanting to pick up several cases of Sara Novic's True Biz, so that I can keep them in the trunk of my car and shove them at all my favorite readers. This book needs to be read. It needs to be read now.
Novic's novel follows a year in the life of teenagers at a residential school for the deaf and the headmistress of that school. Before I address the book itself, I want to say something about my contact with/knowledge of the deaf community. I'll try to keep my explanation brief because the book is really what matters, but what the reviewer does and doesn't know can also be important.
In my years teaching university-level writing, I've worked with five deaf students. Years ago after working with the first, I thought to myself "I'd better go learn ASL (American Sign Language)" with absolutely no sense of how arrogant that idea was. I'm good with languages and usually learn the necessities for basic social interactions pretty quickly—so why not?
Here's why not. Because a) ASL is a language with an absolutely unique grammatical structure that my romance-language learning self was completely unprepared for and b) ASL, like any language, isn't just a communication system—it's the lynch pin of an entire community—and really learning ASL requires integrating one's self into the culture of that community as fully as possible. I learned that signing ASL was not something I could even begin to accomplish with a few semesters of community college classes. And I learned how absolutely remarkable were both my students who were determined to function in two vastly different languages and cultures and the translators working with them.
True Biz opens up the linguistic and cultural complexity of the deaf world—and its complicated, often tense relationship with the speaking world. The characters reflect a number of the experiential strands lived by members of the deaf community.
February, the school's headmistress, is the hearing daughter of deaf parents, who is fully fluent in both spoken English and ASL. As a child, she found navigating between the noisy world of public school and the lively, but silent world of her parents painful both physically and emotionally.
Charlie, the deaf daughter of hearing parents and one of the school's newest students, had a cochlear implant as a toddler, but the hearing-world functionality her doctors promised never emerged. Instead, she's been spending years of her life being prohibited from learning ASL and fighting the discomfort and distraction of the implant while relying on lip reading that leaves her guessing about what those around her are saying. She perceives her parents' efforts to keep her in the hearing world as a demonstration of shame they feel as a result of her deafness.
Austin is "third generation deaf" (my tern). His mother and her parents are deaf; his father is an ASL interpreter who functions comfortably in both deaf and hearing communities. When his younger sister is born and turns out to be hearing, every member of his family worries about the impact this difference will have on the family's bonds. In particular, Austin is shaken by the ways his sister's arrival may change his relationship with his father.
There's a moment of tension in the novel when students clash over the use of ASL and BASL (Black American Sign Language). Historically, so many U.S. schools, including schools for the deaf, were segregated that the Black and white deaf communities have diverged lingusitically. And as is the case with "standard" versus vernacular English, one dialect is often seen as superior to others.
Novic makes an absolutely brilliant move in structuring her novel, regularly inserting excerpts from texts on signing ASL and Wikipedia articles related to deaf history and culture. The characters speak for themselves, but readers are given a bit of a formal structure within which they can perceive those characters.
The plotting in True Biz, which I've been carefully tiptoeing around in hopes of avoiding spoilers, is rich, complicated by issues like educational funding, concerns about the "ebbing" (again, my term) of deaf culture, and anarchism. Every character is living a driven life, one that is based on resistance to the status quo.
At any rate, as I said in my introduction, True Biz is a book that needs to be read—now. Novic has powerful stories to tell and a great deal to teach hearing readers. I may not buy entire cases of True Biz, but I will almost certainly be buying multiple copies of this title to share with others.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own.