This book is packed with up-to-date information and a lot of relatable insights.
When I first read that autism and ADHD may be merged into the same disorder I was skeptical, but this book clarified the matter by exposing the thesis that autism, just like ADHD, stems from a tendency to sensory overload and consequent difficulty in processing stimuli. The idea of autism being the product of lack of Theory of Mind is proved to be old news.
It also does rather well at demystifying the myth of hyper-masculine autism brain and offers some historical insights on the reasons behind autistic women being more likely to fly under the radar. I endorse a lot of the ideas promoted in this book.
Even so, this book does not deserve more than one star for the tone it is written in, for the terrible personal advice that the author feels like giving away, and because of the danger it would pose to the autism community, were this to become an anthem of some sort.
This book was written in anger, and not the subtle anger towards NTs that manifests in witty remarks and gives colour to one's writing style. It's the kind of anger that demands the reader to empathise with the author when she carelessly admits, in an absolutely non-apologetic tone, to have punched a passerby in the neck for the mere fact he was whistling.
So, let's start. A LOT of the information in this book is left without a source. I noticed because sources are something my hyper-fixating self treasures a lot, and often I found myself wondering why the source is missing for statements like:
By the way, did you know that the sound you hear when opening a bottle of Coke has been engineered? I bet those sounds designers who worked hours to create the perfect psssht sound were at least bordering on autistic.
Random socialist dad could say this and I would not trust him, so why should I trust Toeps? There is a German word for the feeling caused by the lack of sources that permeated my reading of this book, it's irritiert, which does not stand for its direct translation in English, but describes that feeling you get when things are a bit off, not running quite according to plans (I believe Germans have a richer vocabulary to express autistic ranges of uncomfortableness, and not by chance).
Now, here is another thing, that also relates to the quote above. According to Toeps, glamourising and emphasising the tendency to uncommon talents some autistic people display is something we shouldn't do because it could skew people's perception of what autism really is as a whole (which bears the question, so are these people who actually remember everyone on earth's star sign unworthy to be involved in her masterplan for autism acceptance?). But isn't being obsessed with designing one single as-rewarding-as-possible sound a savant-type of trait? If these savant-types are recognised as autistic, aren't they only being low-key singled out for comical effect in her supposedly witty remark? That seems kosher, probably because that is not the autistic type Toeps is or the one she is talking to.
Topes also writes:
“Yeah but" teachers say, "out there in the real world, you'll have to work together as well!" By now I have more than ten years of experience in the real world, and I can tell you: that's bullshit.Yes, as a photographer, I work with other people. And no, it doesn't always go smoothly. But do I ever work with the stoned, perpetually late losers who were in my class? No, of course not. As someone who is self-employed I get to pick and choose who I work with, and I simply refuse projects where I'd be working with useless slackers.
First, Toeps is not even contradicting her teacher, only reinforcing the idea that in many likely scenarios, as an adult, you'll have to work with other people. She is railing against her classmates and presenting a scenario that's just black and white, hence far away from reality: the one in which she is always completely right in assessing the personality of her future team mates and there is no chance any of them may end up being something else than a stoner or a loser or any other alleged aberration on the theme "human being".
Her self-entitlement seeps through throughout the whole book, so if you're planning to read it (which I think you should, at least as a cautionary tale), be prepared.
I have accepted that I'm different, and I have found solutions that work for me. I try to create more understanding for autism so the cashier doesn't think I'm rude when I stand in front of her with my headphones on and don't say anything back. But is that what she's really thinking? Then I shrug. Her problem, not mine.
Now, I see how paragraphs like these could have appealed to 10 yo autistic skateboarding NOFX-listening old me, but Toeps is an adult who is actually advocating in favour of being an asshole to cashiers, so I am sure everyone can draw their own conclusions on why this advice is unarguably crap.
Toeps book is generally considered humorous and witty and it must be because of things like chapter 8, where she writes:
It's probably because of the vaccinations.
No.
How original.
Toeps blames The Big Bang Theory for fostering a culture in which autistic people are laughed at and bullied, which I couldn't agree with more. However, I am almost certain similar dynamics are manifesting between her and her audience of neurotypical readers and critics. In their eyes, Toeps is funny, but not because of her exceptional way to play with words and her brilliant comebacks (cause she can't do either), she is ultimately there to be laughed at for her quirks and inflexible views of the world, and the fact she punched a man in the jaw because he was whistling (sorry, I really can't get past this).
I find myself in Toeps. A lot. I sincerely hope this book does not spread too much, especially among teens, especially as a guide that legitimises elitist and unforgiving behaviours that Toeps has decided are within the boundaries of mutual respect.