A tender, wrenching, and comic novel that follows two twin boys from infancy to the cusp of adulthood.
Twin A and Twin B. That’s what Michael and Sal’s neuroscientist father irreverently calls them. The boys are born moments apart, but baby Sal’s brain scan shows a bleed. He has severe cerebral palsy and intellectual disabilities.
Told through multiple perspectives—Gabe, the boys’ father; Hannah, their mother; and Michael—this debut novel follows the Mitchell family from the boys’ infancy to the cusp of adulthood as they all try to interpret what Sal, who speaks only eight words, is thinking and feeling. The twins’ upbringing in suburban Ohio is familiar and unfamiliar, ordinary and extraordinary, as this middle-class family navigates the challenges and rewards of nurturing a special-needs human with a killer dimple who is utterly and winningly sweet, stubborn, mischievous, impenetrable, and above all, very funny.
Michael feels that he alone understands Sal and devotes himself to giving his brother a voice in the “normal” world until he grows up and can’t “hear” his twin anymore—his worst fear. Their mother, a teacher who has given up her career for caregiving, and their father, who is determined to succeed in his research, also struggle with the balance of sacrifice and duty and love, especially as Sal’s health deteriorates. Before Michael leaves for college, the twins spend a final week together at a summer camp for people with disabilities, and Sal does something that changes their lives forever.
Transforming perceptions of disability and interdependence through tender attention to detail, Range of Motion is wrenching, beautiful, and sharply comic.
Brian Trapp is director of disability studies at the University of Oregon, where he also teaches fiction and nonfiction. His work has been published in the Kenyon Review, Southern Review, Longreads, Brevity, and elsewhere. He has been a Steinbeck Fellow, a Borchardt Scholar, and an Elizabeth George grant recipient. He grew up in Cleveland, Ohio, with his twin brother, Danny.
First novels are funny things. Many end up in desk drawers or on hard drives, having failed to find publishers to champion them. Some make it into the reading world and are respectable, even enjoyable, but ultimately not the kind of books that remain with a reader over the long term.
And then, there are first novels like Brian Trapp’s "Range of Motion." This beautifully written story of twin brothers – one with normal intelligence and abilities, the other with multiple, severe special needs – is the kind of book that changes one’s perspective on the blessings of life and the bonds that sometimes forcefully, sometimes tenuously hold a family together.
Trapp’s writing immerses the reader in the lives of twins Michael and Sal. The reader comes to understand Michael’s love for and devotion to Sal, as well as his guilt over being the twin without special needs. The efforts of the boys’ parents, too, cut to the core. There is Gabe, the scientist father, struggling to support his family in the face of a slowly failing research career, and Hannah, the twins’ mother, whose life since the boys’ birth has revolved largely around Sal’s care. Indeed, Hannah’s ability to care for her family is breathtaking; as she is repeatedly pushed to her breaking point, she manages to extend her range of motion and hold herself and everyone else together.
Perhaps it is the family’s togetherness that makes this novel so special. As grueling as it is to care for a child confined to a wheelchair, a child who communicates with facial expressions and an eight-word vocabulary, the family’s love for Sal, and his love for his parents and brother, are profound. They are a tight, cohesive unit willing to face whatever comes together. They fight insurance companies, school administrators, and childhood bullies to ensure Sal has access to the best care and experiences available. They joke and laugh together. They have disagreements. They are, in every way that matters, a typical family.
There is one final piece of magic in Trapp’s book, and it might be the most important. His writing allows the reader to get to know Sal as a person, a fellow human being, and to overcome the all-too-common initial reaction that individuals with special needs are unrelatable or somehow “other.” By the end of the story, I loved Sal, as well as the rest of his family.
Emotional, hilarious, and unflinchingly real, Brian Trapp’s "Range of Motion" is, quite simply, an amazing novel.