Hearing Maud: A Journey for a Voice

by Jessica White

Hearing Maud: a Journey for a Voice is a work of creative non-fiction that details the author’s experiences of deafness after losing most of her hearing at age four. It charts how, as she grew up, she was estranged from people and turned to reading and writing for solace, eventually establishing a career as a writer.

Central to her narrative is the story of Maud Praed, the deaf daughter of 19th century Queensland expatriate novelist Rosa Praed. Although Maud was deaf from infancy, she was educated at a school which taught her to speak rather than sign, a mode difficult for someone with little hearing. The breakup of Maud’s family destabilised her mental health and at age twenty-eight she was admitted to an asylum, where she stayed until she died almost forty years later. It was through uncovering Maud’s story that the author began to understand her own experiences of deafness and how they contributed to her emotional landscape, relationships and career.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Disability, Biography, Australia

271 pages, Paperback

First published July 1, 2019

About the author

Jessica White was raised in the country in northwestern NSW and, at age 4, lost most of her hearing from a bout of meningitis. Being a determined little girl, she refused to be daunted by her disability, but instead made her way from a tiny school of 100 pupils to publishing her first novel at age 29, before graduating with a PhD from the University of London.

Jessica’s first novel, A Curious Intimacy, was published by Penguin in 2007, and won a Sydney Morning Herald Best Young Novelist award. Her second novel, Entitlement, was released by Penguin in September 2012.

Jessica currently works part-time as a research assistant in Brisbane, while writing her third novel and a book of creative non-fiction.

She can be found at www.jessicawhite.com.au

Reviews

[Cass Moriarty · Rating 5 out of 5]

Author and academic Jessica White has two published novels but her latest book Hearing Maud (UWA Publishing 2019) is a departure from her previous work, and I believe this will be the book that will elevate her notoriety as a writer to another level. Hearing Maud is a hybrid of intimately personal memoir, meticulously researched history and searing self-analysis that is deeply affecting and will influence the way readers consider deafness. The 15-year period of research and study that Jess has devoted to this work really shows – it is a well-crafted, honest and thoughtful exploration of disability, a fascinating insight into the historical treatment of deaf people, and a courageous and inspiring tale of Jess’ journey as she continues to navigate a hearing world, the obstacles she has overcome, and the incredible amount of philosophical thought she has devoted over the years to her own experience and to the experiences of other deaf people.
When I first met Jess a few years ago, it took me several months – and many casual meetings – before I even realised that she was deaf. Reading this book has made me understand how much I didn’t know about what I didn’t know; it has provided me with valuable insights into the two strands of communication open to deaf people (oralism or lip-reading, as opposed to sign language) and the historical context to both, and it demonstrates one woman’s persistence, courage and determination to realise self-fulfilment despite her disability, and the enormous struggles she has overcome along the way. This is really an amazing book.
Jess lost almost all of her hearing after a bout of meningitis when she was four years old. Living in a rural farming community in the 1980’s, and with a lack of appropriate services, Jess and her parents attempted to negotiate her being a deaf person in a hearing world. Her childhood isolation and loneliness – the constant struggle to be involved in the world around her, the extreme exhaustion of trying to listen or lip-read and extrapolate meaning from physical cues – all of this is related in a raw and honest appraisal. Her escape into reading and the world of books and words, and later into writing, helped to tackle her frustration, but it was when she was a young adult and began to travel overseas to engage in further study that she really began to find her place.
Researching the nineteenth-century Queensland novelist Rosa Praed, Jess uncovered the story of Rosa’s daughter Maud Praed, who became deaf at only a few months of age, but was taught to speak rather than sign in an attempt to ‘normalise’ her. Maud’s story is tragic – despite being an intelligent, interesting and inquisitive child and then young woman, she ends up being committed to an asylum at age 28, where she spent almost 40 years of her life, and eventually died there aged 67, alone and without access to that most basic of human needs: communication. The lack of the appropriate sensory support for Maud’s deafness caused her discomfort and isolation which eventually became paranoia and delusions. In a different time, her life might have had a very different outcome.
Jess found a kindred spirit in Maud and began extensive research into letters and journals from her and also about her (from her mother and others). In the process of hearing Maud’s voice, from a century ago, Jess discovered more about her own deaf self, her identity, and found her own voice.
I’ve always considered Jess to be an achiever: literary criticism, novel writing, academic teaching; she has always struck me as very capable and enviably ambitious, discerning and goal-orientated. But this book has opened my eyes to the relentless struggle and constant attentiveness required for her to achieve this seamless image of a duck floating peacefully on the water…there is a lot of furious paddling going on underneath. The constant vigilance, and the lack of appropriate simple but necessary support services (such as Loop systems at public events), must make every day like running a marathon.
Throughout the book, Jess explores the idea of pharmakon, an ancient Greek term that means both poison and cure; there are many examples of circumstances in both her life, and in Maud Praed’s life, where something negative could also have a positive outcome, but ‘that the way the pendulum swung in favour of one or the other depended on the time and culture in which the deaf person lived.’ As Jess opens up about her own difficulties, including periods of emotional depression, she counters this with the circumstances of Maud’s life – so different, and yet in many ways, so similar. The support of Jess’ family, and particularly her beloved brother Oliver (and the absence of her lost brother Hamish), contrasts starkly with the lack of emotional support offered to Maud Praed (and the rather sinister beliefs of the time about deaf people and the risks of congenital deafness).
I learnt so much from this book, most particularly about the historical attitudes towards deafness (not good) and the importance of sign language, which is, after all, really just like learning another language. A lovely thing for many people to do just because it is another language and allows you to communicate with deaf people, but absolutely imperative for deaf people themselves, because it encourages a far greater range of expression and nuance than lip-reading, and is not as tiring. This book made me realise just how exhausting it must be for a hearing-impaired or deaf person (without the benefit of signing) to constantly keep up with the language going on around them, and has given me a renewed respect for those who do learn a second language – signing – and use it to manage their communication in a way that most of us take for granted.

[Carly Findlay · Rating 4 out of 5]

Content warning: ableist language and eating disorder

I really enjoyed Hearing Maud by Jessica White. It’s an important work of creative fiction - combining a memoir about Jessica’s life, and an insight into Maud Praed, the deaf daughter of 19th century Queensland expatriate novelist Rosa Praed.

Jessica lost her hearing aged four, and as detailed in the book, she considers herself to be raised as hearing. Her parents sent her to a mainstream school and sent her to audiologists and speech pathologists to help her hear and speak. She didn’t know any D/Deaf people as a child, and hadn’t learnt sign language. She wasn’t raised culturally Deaf, which I believe is why she’s used the smaller d variation of deaf.

Jessica has had a prolific and successful writing career, and has also worked in academia, but she struggled with forming relationships due to communication barriers. She also experienced an eating disorder.

Jessica details the discrimination that both she and Maud endured. Maud was taught to speak, not sign, and as a result, found communicating very difficult.

Through her research, Jessica saw parallels between herself and Maud - especially the discrimination they both endured and isolation they felt. While there were centuries between them, some of the discriminatory views about disability have not changed.

At times there was some uncomfortable disability hierarchy. While some of it was tied to history (stating that “in Roman law, deaf people were placed in the same category as imbeciles”, but she was also othering, with a statement about being “deaf not stupid”.

There was also a little ableist language and allusion to eugenics, when Jessica wrote about deaf history, and the discrimination she and Maud experienced. I feel this use of ableist language is passable as it is describing how the language was discriminatory. Jessica is disabled herself, so she she has the power when writing about ableism (compared to a non disabled writer using disability slurs).

I related a lot to Jessica’s story - especially her working harder than what’s often healthy to prove myself to non disabled people; her dating woes and desire to be loved unreservedly, and also the way her parents sent her to a mainstream school with few accommodations. I also related to the way writing has changed Jessica’s life.

There were a few lessons in the importance of complaining about lack of accessibility. One line that stood out to me was “I’m inclined not to bother with complaining because it takes energy, but once an audiologist in London told me, ‘If you complain, you make it easier for the next deaf person who comes after you.’”

One of the loveliest parts of the book was when Jessica reflected on all the friends she had when they came to her second book’s launch, compared to three years prior. Writing has given her so many opportunities and relationships. Hearing Maud is a story of how the written word can lead to self discovery, and also the importance of connection with others - especially other disabled and D/deaf people.

I listened to the audiobook and enjoyed the narrator. As Jessica wrote so much about her speech, and because this is a memoir, I would loved to have heard her narrate it.

[Natasha (jouljet) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Part memoir, part biography, Jessica has woven her own story as a Deaf child and woman with that of Maud, daughter of Rosa Praed, Australian writer of many books in the 1880s, who through research and chance, Jessica finds incredible parallels.

Both raised to communicate in the hearing world with speech rather than sign, Jessica and Maud navigate the difficulties and challenges of being understood, connecting with others, and the acceptance of their disability. Both experience challenges with connecting with their mother's, and battle with the psychological impacts that of often being on the periphery of their own worlds because of their deafness.

Jessica shares such insights into the Deaf experience that I have not come across, or considered before. I feel like I have learned so much from reading this, about her experiences, and the reality of having a hearing impairment. From little things, like missing overhearing conversations that help frame your social rules and norms knowledge, to informing a better understanding of strategies to be mindful of when communicating with someone who is deaf.

The research into the theories of Deaf education, which Maud leads Jessica to, are so interesting, and leaves much to consider about the two schools of thought around speech verses signing.

Parts of this are not easy reading, as Jessica shares the mental health impacts of the isolation felt from her deaf experiences in the hearing world, her self doubts and esteem issues from childhood, that lead to depression and an eating disorder. Maud's experiences with mental ill health, and drastic isolation are also tragic. But as with all good memoirs, Jessica has done the work to understand herself better, and come to a better place within herself and her disability identity. She acknowledges that Maud has also helped her through this pathway.

[Sally Piper · Rating 5 out of 5]

In this memoir Jessica White, left deaf following meningitis at the age of four, writes beautifully and truthfully about discovering and understanding her deaf self in a world that often fails to accommodate her disability. Parallel to her own story is the fascinating story of Maud Praed, the deaf daughter of 19th century Australian novelist Rosa Praed. This is a scholarly, honest and elegant account of what it is to be deaf in a hearing world.

[Jaclyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was deeply saddened to hear of the planned closure of UWA Publishing. We’re losing a reputable small publisher and access to voices that might not otherwise be published. And we’ll be poorer for it. I’ve wanted to read this since hearing Jessica White speak @wheelercentre. This was such an accomplished and insightful read. I find it troubling to think that without UWA Publishing, books like this might not make their way to me.

[Fiona Stocker · Rating 5 out of 5]

Good memoirs are about more than just the person writing them. They’re a broader account of things that we can all relate to, sometimes unexpectedly.

‘Hearing Maud’ by Jessica White is her account of growing up deaf in outback Australia, after losing her hearing through a bout of meningitis at age four. Jess was sent to school with the rest of her brothers and sisters and encouraged to continue talking. But hearing loss meant she could never keep up, never really integrate, felt left out of conversations and social situations. She retreated into the world of books and reading, and then writing. In adult life she became an academic. But it took a long time to find her feet in the world.

In ‘Hearing Maud’ her own story is interwoven with that of another deaf Australian woman, the daughter of a 19th century novelist. Maud Praed grew up being made to speak despite being profoundly deaf, and was then confined to an institution for the most part of her adult life, until she died, and from the descriptions you’d have to say she went barking mad, the poor woman.
This book looks at how people with hearing loss and deafness have been ‘handled’, for want of a better word, by our cultures. How they’ve been forced to learn to speak, and not taught to sign, because that would set them apart, and not enable them to ‘fit in’. This can mean a lifetime spent on the fringes of hearing society. Whereas signing, the true language of the deaf, enables them to talk at speed and fluently, and join with other people.

My husband is entirely deaf in one ear, the result of a childhood accident on the arm and then a flu shot three years ago (he developed tinnitus and lost the last vestiges of his hearing in that ear two hours after the shot. Try googling ‘tinnitus, flu vaccination' – it’s an eye-opener.) He backs up Jess’s summation of what social situations and conversations are like when you’re deaf: constantly having to guess parts of what people are saying, feeling stupid if you get it wrong and respond incorrectly, missing things and struggling to keep up. And how exhausting all this is.

But I found much to relate to myself even though I’m not deaf, and that’s the secret of a good memoir. You can imagine how lonely and isolated Jess felt during her teenage years. Well this is a good book for a woman with a teenage daughter to read; it was a reminder to me of the isolation I felt myself at that age, simply because it’s an awkward age when you want to fit in but may not do so, for any old reason.

And in Jess’s analysis of how deaf people are forced to assimilate and use a dominant culture’s means of communication and expression, and how this parallels Aboriginal experience in colonial culture, I found parallels again with women’s experience in a patriarchal culture. Being a ‘wife’ has become about fitting in, having it all, raising children and having a career, trying to be women and men, often subverting our own desires in service to a family. I write about finding my own identity as a woman, a wife and a writer in my own memoir Apple Island Wife, and I found much to relate to in what Jess was saying.

It’s a very successful mix, this book, of academic research into a historical figure and analysis of her experience and what it can teach us, and a sensory, personal memoir. Jess’s descriptions are often fluid, even poetic, as she evokes life in the bush and later in big cities.

I recommend this book for anyone who loves reading memoir for its capacity to take us into another person’s world, show and tell us things we haven’t expected, bring us small moments of enlightenment, and stay with us. Books that do that are jewels in the canon. This one is a small, heartfelt gem.

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hearing Maud, a Journey for a Voice is a most interesting hybrid: not quite a memoir, not quite a biography of a mother and her daughter, and not quite a survey of a pioneering Australian female author. It is not quite any of these things, but it is more than the sum of its parts. This is the blurb:

Hearing Maud: a Journey for a Voice is a work of creative non-fiction that details the author’s experiences of deafness after losing most of her hearing at age four. It charts how, as she grew up, she was estranged from people and turned to reading and writing for solace, eventually establishing a career as a writer.

Central to her narrative is the story of Maud Praed, the deaf daughter of 19th century Queensland expatriate novelist Rosa Praed. Although Maud was deaf from infancy, she was educated at a school which taught her to speak rather than sign, a mode difficult for someone with little hearing. The breakup of Maud’s family destabilised her mental health and at age twenty-eight she was admitted to an asylum, where she stayed until she died almost forty years later. It was through uncovering Maud’s story that the author began to understand her own experiences of deafness and how they contributed to her emotional landscape, relationships and career.

In the prologue, White explains the Greek concept of pharmakon, meaning that something can be both a poison and a cure. As a four-year-old, she contracted meningitis, and the antibiotics that saved her life, damaged the nerves of her cochlea, leaving her with limited hearing only in one ear. But, she says, deafness can also be a poison and a cure, and the way the pendulum swung in favour of one or the other depended on the time and the culture in which the deaf person lived. In this book White explores the contrast between the limited agency that 19th century Maud Praed had over her life, with her own. For White, deafness has led to being a writer: her insularity has made her an avid reader and an acute observer of people. Although there are difficulties and she questions some of the decisions her parents made on her behalf, she is independent, and she has a fulfilling life as an academic and a writer.

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2019/08/01/h...

[Belinda Badman · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jessica White was born hearing but due to contracting meningitis when she was 4 was left with just 25% hearing. It was the medicine to treat the infection which resulted in her hearing loss. The author uses this Pharmakon - both poison and cure, as one of the themes in this memoir.

It was an interesting book, written in a style I haven’t come across before - interspersing her intimate, personal, memoir with the memoir of Maud Praed, a deaf woman from the 19th century. Along the way we learn more about deaf culture.
I particularly liked the memoir component of the book with Jessica not being afraid to share her more personal and difficult moments.
The historical section didn’t work as well - I think because there was so little actual information available on Maud to begin with that the author has had to extrapolate somewhat and give more page time to Maud’s family members rather than Maud herself.
The one thing I will take away from this book is a better understanding of what it is like to be deaf in a hearing world and hopefully will give me more patience in dealing with those who are hard of hearing in the future (particularly elderly family members).

[Annemarie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Hearing Maud weaves together two stories: that of Maud Praed, the deaf daughter of 19th-century Australian novelist Rosa Praed, and Jessica White’s own story of growing up deaf after losing her hearing at age four. White explores the parallels between their lives — the isolation, the pressure to “fit in” and the silencing of deaf voices — while also delving into questions about identity, belonging and how history remembers women like Maud.

It’s a fascinating premise, but I found the book hard to follow. It jumped around a lot between time periods, places and personal reflections, and I often lost track of whether the focus was on Maud or on the author herself. While both stories are compelling in their own right, the structure made it difficult to stay connected to either.

I appreciated the research and the intent behind it — shining a light on a forgotten woman’s life while exploring what it means to live between worlds — but the narrative felt fragmented. I wanted a clearer sense of direction and a stronger thread tying the two stories together.

Thanks to Libraries ACT for lending me a copy of this book.

[Alison · Rating 5 out of 5]

Yes I left this book for a couple of months. It was the middle bit. I met Jess at a conference and didnt realize she was deaf until she told me. That’s what the book is about. How deaf people are taught to pass as hearing people. And it compares this to Australian writer Rosa Praed’s daughter Maud a hundred years ago, who was institutionalized for most of her life and died in a mental asylum having outlived the rest of her family, just for being deaf. This is a Beautifully written book. I love where she writes about her own life, filled with bits of research and connections and wisdom. It’s also a profoundly eye opening book for those of us who hear. I thought I understood something of deaf culture, thanks so a friend’s family, but this takes us way further as well as I to its history, competing theories for education, and individual impacts on peoples lives. It’s a winner. Everyone should read it.

[Heather Taylor-Johnson · Rating 4 out of 5]

In Hearing Maud, Jessica White invites us into a quieter space than what we’re used to, but is it quite? Being Deaf and forced to conform to a hearing world is full of unrest and instability, as depicted by White. Her research into nineteenth-century Australian writer Rosa Praed for her PhD led her to daughter Maud, a Deaf woman who, like White, lip-read and spoke in order to communicate, rather than signed. The injustice White feels on behalf of Maud is similarly depicted in her own recollections and ruminations of growing up in Queensland and finding her way in London and America and, again, back in Queensland. Discovering Maud was the impetus for White’s exploration into her own non-signing upbringing, and just as any answer to her question of ‘why’ is never black and white, so too is it non-definitive.

[Liz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Mostly memoir but part biography and part social history, this is the account of Australian author, Jessica White’s experience of growing up deaf, experiencing the world and eventually becoming a writer. Through her studies of late 19th to early 20th century Australian author Rosa Campbell Praed, White discovered Praed had a deaf daughter, Maud, whose records White then researched. The book interweaves the stories of White’s own experiences with those of Maud and discusses how attitudes to deafness have changed, and have not changed, over the last century. Praed’s own story is interesting too, having moved to England and socialising with famous writers like Oscar Wilde and Rudyard Kipling, she lived with her lover Nancy, a medium and spiritualist.
I listened to this on audiobook which was done well and the stories of all three women were interesting.

[Kali Napier · Rating 5 out of 5]

Deeply personal, entwined with Jessica White's discovery of Rosa Praed's writing and her deaf daughter Maud who was raised to 'fit in' with the mainstream, to lipread rather than sign. White finds parallels with her own upbringing and the expectations placed on her, with the result of a profound loneliness and exclusion from social life. I know Jessica in real life, but READING her is really LISTENING to her, and she makes a strong case for the power of words, writing, and the ability to express oneself. I reflected on children and adults with Autism, who I think face similar issues of invisible disabilities and inability to be heard and express themselves, to learn the rules that people around them seem to inherently understand, and the need to mask or pretend to 'normalcy' to get by.

[Hadley White · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've never read a book like this. Jessica weaves two genres together beautifully; autobiography and academic research. She does so to compare her experiences as a deaf woman growing up in the 1980s with that of Maud Praed in the early 20thC. In doing so she illuminate how a hearing society's attitudes towards deafness shape the lives and happiness of these two women.

Mixing fiction and non-fiction sounds like it should be a car crash of a method, but what Jessica achieves is an engrossing narrative drive that counterpoints her historic research. It is at once thought-provoking, educational and engrossing.

[Disclaimer - totally biased review by the author's brother!]

[Melissa Riley · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very interesting and eye opening book. I thought it would be largely about Maud Praed, but I was pleasantly surprised to read that a good portion of the book described Jessica White's own experiences as a writer. It definitely gives a good perspective on 'invisible' disabilities and the expectations put on theses people, possibly unknowingly, by the rest of the public to be seen as being able to hear. Maud's story is heartbreaking, born deaf and obliged to lip-read instead of learning sign language. She was all but abandoned by her family after the death of her father, when Maud had a breakdown and was left to the care of a sanatorium.

[Bec · Rating 4 out of 5]

"I’m tired of being taken for granted. I want people to know how hard I’ve worked – and how hard most people with disabilities have to work – to get where I am"

This book spoke with me, and at times I could relate all too well and in others it was hard to not overlay my experiences with a chronic illness which weren't necessarily the same because being deaf is different than being diabetic (the cochlear implant vs the insulin pump for example). More books like to be written by more people and I loved the overlaying of history to reflect how much experience for deaf people had and had not changed

[Melanie Page · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was worried that I found Hearing Maud interesting only because I could relate, but by comparing the societies into which Jessica White and Maud must fit, the author brings a disability rights angle to her hybrid book, elevating it into more than me nodding along in recognition.

Check out the entire review at Grab the Lapels.

[Jessica Hausheer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant. I felt that Jess laid out her thoughts and feelings for me and I was there with her. Relatable in some areas for me, and I learnt so much in others. Personal and written so well. I loved it.

[Kirsty · Rating 5 out of 5]

Challenging, intimate, thought-provoking, at times uncomfortable, but ultimately very moving. The kind of memoir I would like to write, if I could convince myself that I was actually worth writing about.

[Annette · Rating 4 out of 5]

Similar themes to The Shape of Sound. Interesting historical facts, including about Alexander Graham Bell. Broader relevance to anyone who doesn’t easily fit into mainstream culture for a variety of reasons.

[Leonie Recz · Rating 2 out of 5]

Disjointed and indulgent. Was glad when I finished this one. A memoir of life as a deaf author and historical telling if another deaf woman, Maud, and the trouble she had dealing with the world. It just felt like blame casting but maybe I’m too harsh, maybe I didn’t put my empathy hat on.

[Jo Rushby · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am so glad I came across this book. This Author is reminiscent with my early childhood coping as a deaf girl in a mainstream school. Jessica White explores the writer Rosa Praed whose daughter was Deaf. It covers how times have changed from 19th century to today's attitude of Deaf children.
I highly recommend this book.

[Emily Gard · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really interesting and thought provoking.

[Margaret · Rating 4 out of 5]

Blends research into personal story. Unusual.

[Cheryl Hill · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting insight into living with deafness. I enjoyed how Jessica wove in the story of a writer's journey with her deaf daughter and the historical context of teaching her 'speech'.

[Tricia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Part memoir, part biography. It was a fairly interesting read.

[Jen]

DNF An hour into audiobook, the historical story not grabbing me, although author’s story is interesting to me.

[Seb Calvert · Rating 5 out of 5]

i have the sudden urge to sign up to auslan classes.

[Kate · Rating 3 out of 5]

Is it a biography? Is it a memoir? It's both! White recounts her own experience of deafness, in parallel with the fascinating story of Maud Praed, the deaf daughter of 19th century Queensland expatriate novelist Rosa Praed. I enjoyed the format, although the transitions from memoir to biography weren't always seamless. That said, White's descriptions of her own experiences are poetic ("...the clamour of cousins..."), and brutally honest.

I picked up this book on the strength of Lisa and Bill's reviews (they've both done comprehensive reviews, so check them out).

[Cameron O · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jessica White’s own story is an interesting one in its own right; one she tells with great honesty and authenticity. “Hearing Maud“ also carefully unpacks Deaf history and issues, and this makes for great introductory reading for readers who may not be too familiar with the Deaf history or contemporary issues.