Yes, Jen is a dear friend. I read everything she writes... BUT. This book is special. I can hear her voice so clearly because I know this story is something she knows by heart, she is passionate about, and she wants the world to love, or at least appreciate, Marcel as she does. What a lovely, loving account of a friendship.
Slow Motion: A Memoir of Friendship, Disability, and Advocacy by Jennifer Dupree is a reflective narrative that examines how disability reshapes not only physical experience but also perception, relationships, and the structure of daily life.
What stands out immediately is the concept implied in the title. “Slow motion” functions as more than a description of pace. It represents a shift in how time is experienced and interpreted. The memoir explores how this altered tempo affects decision making, interaction, and the ability to engage with a world that often operates at a different speed.
The role of friendship is central to the narrative. Relationships are not presented as static sources of support but as evolving dynamics that respond to changing circumstances. The book examines how connection can deepen under pressure while also revealing limitations in understanding and accessibility.
Another strength is how the memoir handles advocacy. It does not treat advocacy as a separate or external effort. Instead, it emerges directly from lived experience. The need to navigate systems, challenge assumptions, and assert agency becomes part of everyday life rather than a distinct phase or role.
The narrative also addresses visibility. Disability is positioned within a broader social context where perception often shapes experience. The book explores how being seen or misunderstood influences both external interactions and internal identity.
The tone remains grounded and direct. The memoir does not rely on exaggerated transformation or simplified resolution. It focuses on the ongoing process of adaptation, emphasizing that change is continuous rather than definitive.
At 256 pages, Slow Motion offers a thoughtful and experience driven reading experience that will resonate strongly with readers interested in memoirs centered on disability, relationships, and the intersection of personal experience with broader social awareness.
I'm so glad I read this book, a memoir of the author, Jennifer, and her friendship with a man who has cerebral palsy. She tells Marcel's story along with her own story of friendship and advocacy. It's overwhelming how much advocacy is needed and how many hurdles and how much discrimination people in wheelchairs who use communication devices face (and I worked in special education for more than 20 years so my eyes are open wider than many people's). Many assume Marcel is intellectually disabled too and talk about him and ignore him to speak to able-bodied people with him. Marcel is smart as a whip with a great sense of humor and is kind and gentle and forgiving as the world makes erroneous assumptions about him. My heart hurt for Marcel as Jennifer's did. I appreciate her honesty as she questions how best to be a best friend to Marcel...did she say and do the right things, was she too mean to others who discriminate against Marcel, is she letting him be independent enough, is she too selfish meeting her needs at times more than Marcel's? So many questions, but not easy answers. I so enjoyed getting to know Jennifer and Marcel. My criticism is that the book seemed choppy--short sections, going back and forth in time. It took me about a third of the book to get the feel for how the story was being told. Still, it was an eye-opening, real, raw journey that this reader was grateful for.
Some books find you at exactly the right moment. I came across Jennifer Dupree's Slow Motion in a submissions pile, and I couldn't put it down.
The friendship at the heart of this memoir — between Jen and Marcel, a man with cerebral palsy whose chart clearly notes he has never walked, whose doctor nonetheless tells him to "get up and move around" (Jen's response: "Did you bring your magic wand?") — is one of the most vivid and affecting I've encountered in a long time. Marcel is funny, curious, and possessed of what Dupree calls an unshakeable propensity for joy. He is also navigating a world that routinely dismisses, misreads, and underestimates him. Jen learns, over thirty years of hockey games and hospital battles and countless adventures, what it really means to show up.
This book reminded me of Ann Patchett's Truth and Beauty — that particular quality a friendship memoir has when the author is willing to be completely honest about what the relationship cost, as well as what it gave. Dupree writes with deadpan humor and real tenderness, and she never lets the advocacy themes overwhelm the story. Marcel never becomes a symbol. He stays a person. Monica Wood says she felt "not so much inspired by this story, but welcomed into it." That's exactly right.
I loved this memoir. The humor and grace with which Marcel’s story is presented makes this a compulsive read - I finished it in two days. Another thing that sets this story apart from others for me is the way it speaks to more than one theme. I don’t think I’ve ever read a more moving ode to the meaning friendship brings to our lives. The bond between Jennifer and Marcel is deep and rich, and they almost always have a good time even in the worst circumstances. The many challenges Marcel has faced and continues to face in his day to day (and year to year) life are described with candid humor, sometimes directing well-earned rage at a system that tends toward exclusion. I deeply admire Dupree’s narrative voice and the way she makes us feel the difficulties Marcel faces in an often unkind world, and effectively models the ways we can all advocate for others who are differently abled (or just different). Don’t assume and don’t presume based on someone’s differences, this book teaches us. “Slow Motion” is eye opening and attitude-altering. Read it!