When fifteen-year-old Libby is exposed to a mysterious infection, she must struggle with the long recovery process and the prospect that she may never walk again.
When I started reading Lois Keith's young adult novel A Different Life I was originally so impressed with and by the author's narrational skills that I was absolutely and fondly considering a high four, and perhaps even a five star ranking, and there is, indeed, very much that is altogether positive and very worthy of celebration, of being whole-heartedly accoladed. For not only does Lois Keith totally and naturally capture young narrator Libby's voice, her struggles with suddenly contracting a mysterious viral disease that causes permanant paralysis from the waist down read and feel totally personable, completely relatable (and of course, that Lois Keith herself is seemingly also confined to a wheelchair might have something to do with her being able to render young Libby into such a believable and natural narrator, such a likable character, for the author is clearly and definitely writing about what she has herself experienced, what she herself knows all too well, not to mention that especially Libby's father with his determination to get more and more information on water pollution and whether his daughter's mysterious illness could have been caused by this, by Libby being dunked into the sea during a class trip to Littlehampton, he is also a character to both admire, commend and yes, emulate).
However, as much as I have indeed enjoyed A Different Life and as much as the novel has been a both engaging, moving and enlightening reading exerience for me, unfortunately, Lois Keith has once again and very much akin to her intriguing but rather annoyingly one-sided and agenda-heavy analysis of disability in children's literature for girls (Take up Thy Bed and Walk) shown herself as someone with both a very large and specific chip on her shoulder and a most frustrating, often deliberately nasty tendency towards generalisation and willful stereotyping (a problematic scenario that in A Different Life becomes most apparent and noticeable during Libby's hospitalisation, as almost all of the doctors, dieticians, occupational and physical therapists are portrayed by the author, are depicted by Lois Keith as being mostly rather majorly negative, one dimentional stock villain type characters, and with head physiotherapist Pauline Blood this happens to such an extent, that I for one basically have almost felt as though I was not reading a realistic novel anymore, but a fairy tale in which Ms. Blood appears as an utterly vile, unrealistically evil witch).
And while Lois Keith's rather obvious agendas and her blatant stereotyping of certain characters (and of certain professions) have not made me in any way depise and hate A Different Life, this has certainly taken some of the shine off of my reading pleasure and thus, even though I do still highly recommend A Different Life, I must leave the caveat that in order to truly enjoy the novel, one really does need to take Lois Keith's at times infuriating one-sidedness and her tendency to make the medical and patient rehabilitation professions appear as basically wholly or at least mostly negative with a large and massively critical grain of salt. But I also do hope that I have not scared interested readers away from A Different Life, for if one ignores or more to the point, if one is able to accept that the author has a bit of a tendency towards generalisation and presenting stereotypes, A Different Life indeed is both enjoyable and in many ways eye-opening, enlightening (and the oh so very British setting, with specifics of the UK school system etc. is there indeed absolutely delightful).
I'm not sure why it took me so long to read this one, as it was really good. Libby is 15 when she is dunked into the sea on a class trip, and the next day develops a debilitating fever that leaves her legs paralyzed. The first part of the story deals with her time in the hospital trying to learn to walk again, and her ultimate acceptance of being wheelchair-bound. This gave me insight into what it's like to be suddenly unable to walk. When she finally goes home, her parents try to get the council (this is set in England) to pay to adapt their house for her needs. I'm not sure how it would be done if it was in the U.S., but there must be some kind of financial assistance. Libby's father crusades to find out how his daughter could have picked up this virus from pollution in the ocean. This part of the story is never resolved, and I'm wondering if it is based on fact. Too bad the author didn't provide an afterword or author's note about it, or a list of her research sources.
The last part of the story is about how Libby tries to get admitted back into her old school, only to be told that she should go to a "special school" for the handicapped. This sets her and her friends on a campaign to force the school to adapt for her. The story is told in the first person, so you get a vivid idea of how Libby feels as all these things happen around her and to her. Above all, she wants to be independent, and she has a hard time getting people to see that. People want to feel good about themselves by helping a disabled person, but don't realize that that person may interpret their help as condescension or pity or interference. I never thought about that before. I guess the right thing to do would be to ask the disabled person if they need assistance, and to respect their wishes if they say they don't.
I'm glad I was able to get a copy of this book via interlibrary loan, as it's not readily available in the U.S. I can highly recommend it.
Was a favourite of mine for a while a couple of years ago- I think it raises important issues of ableism in society and how we need to make big changes to the way we make places accessible.
Also she seemed so grown up when I first read this- but she’s only 15??
Jesse was one of my first fictional crushes and I still stand by that