What do you think?
Rate this book
Waist-High in the World: A Life Among the Nondisabled
In a blend of intimate memoir and passionate advocacy, Nancy Mairs takes on the subject woven through all her writing: disability and its effect on life, work, and spirit.
212 pages, Paperback
First published April 7, 1997
25 people are currently reading
905 people want to read
About the author
Nancy Mairs
26 books31 followersNancy Mairs was an author who wrote about diverse topics, including spirituality, women's issues and her experiences living with multiple sclerosis. She received an AB from Wheaton College, and an MFA in writing and a Ph.D. from the University of Arizona.
She was diagnosed with MS when she was 28, and wrote several essays on her experiences as a self-described "cripple", including "On Being a Cripple," "Sex and the Gimpy Girl," and the memoir Waist High in the World.
She was diagnosed with MS when she was 28, and wrote several essays on her experiences as a self-described "cripple", including "On Being a Cripple," "Sex and the Gimpy Girl," and the memoir Waist High in the World.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 50 reviews
March 7, 2022
Everyone: read this book. It takes an ice-pick to the disability tropes that many of us carry about.
Mairs is a brilliant essayist and memoirist, writing about her own experiences as a woman with MS, who has lost movement in two legs and one arm and lives in the Southwest. She weaves larger themes on disability studies into her narrative, making this book a lot more accessible to general readers than academic disability-studies books.
My favorite moments include:
-Her claim to ethics -- Mairs is a Catholic Worker and insists on the requirement that she continue doing 'good works,' even as she's treated as a service project herself.
-Her frank discussion on disability and sexuality (in which she jokes she nearly titled the book "Cock-High in the World").
-Nuanced discussion of euthanasia and abortion of fetuses with disabilities.
-Re-casting of 'western writing' to include the perspectives of disabled western authors.
-All the wit and humor and richness of Mairs' writing. Seriously: read this!
Mairs is a brilliant essayist and memoirist, writing about her own experiences as a woman with MS, who has lost movement in two legs and one arm and lives in the Southwest. She weaves larger themes on disability studies into her narrative, making this book a lot more accessible to general readers than academic disability-studies books.
My favorite moments include:
-Her claim to ethics -- Mairs is a Catholic Worker and insists on the requirement that she continue doing 'good works,' even as she's treated as a service project herself.
-Her frank discussion on disability and sexuality (in which she jokes she nearly titled the book "Cock-High in the World").
-Nuanced discussion of euthanasia and abortion of fetuses with disabilities.
-Re-casting of 'western writing' to include the perspectives of disabled western authors.
-All the wit and humor and richness of Mairs' writing. Seriously: read this!
April 11, 2014
I have read this book 3 times, the first two about 10 years ago, either right before or right after I graduated from college. The first time I read it, it was a library copy, and I couldn't mark it up the way I was dying to, so I dog-earred pages and used slips of paper as bookmarks to share passages with others.
Then, I bought my own copy and was liberal with the yellow highlighter. This time around, I used an ink pen, to differentiate between my different readings. And, somewhat surprisingly, I managed to underline different passages than I did before, even though those yellow words still resonated.
It would make sense to recommend this book to anyone who uses a wheelchair, because, even though our experiences are vastly different, Mairs and I have a lot in common, as evidenced by her essays here. However, I would recommend this book to nondisabled readers, even those who have never had an encounter with someone with a disability.
It might seem like a depressing read to someone who doesn't understand the differentiation between the words "cripple," "handicapped," or "disabled." But, though Mairs doesn't shy away from the harsh realities of living with a disability in a world that actively seems to say "We don't want you here," her writing is also sharp and funny - sometimes even "LOL" worthy. It will have nondisabled readers thinking differently about the world they traverse on two legs, and readers with disabilities will revel in the fact of knowing that someone, somewhere, understands.
Visit my blog at Bums & Bellybuttons.
Then, I bought my own copy and was liberal with the yellow highlighter. This time around, I used an ink pen, to differentiate between my different readings. And, somewhat surprisingly, I managed to underline different passages than I did before, even though those yellow words still resonated.
It would make sense to recommend this book to anyone who uses a wheelchair, because, even though our experiences are vastly different, Mairs and I have a lot in common, as evidenced by her essays here. However, I would recommend this book to nondisabled readers, even those who have never had an encounter with someone with a disability.
It might seem like a depressing read to someone who doesn't understand the differentiation between the words "cripple," "handicapped," or "disabled." But, though Mairs doesn't shy away from the harsh realities of living with a disability in a world that actively seems to say "We don't want you here," her writing is also sharp and funny - sometimes even "LOL" worthy. It will have nondisabled readers thinking differently about the world they traverse on two legs, and readers with disabilities will revel in the fact of knowing that someone, somewhere, understands.
Visit my blog at Bums & Bellybuttons.
April 6, 2011
Mairs, Nancy. “Waist High in the World: A Life among the Nondisabled.”
Massachusetts: Beacon Press Books, 1996
Nancy Mair’s writing contains a very sad but still optimistic tone to it in her poignant memoir, “Waist High in the World: A Life among the Nondisabled.” She uses many bits of unconventional and witty humor to keep the tone of the story as light as possible, even though it is describing her experiences with multiple sclerosis, or as she refers to it, MS. In some ways, using this tone helps to push the story along although sometimes it hinders its progress.
Mairs is a master of keeping a light tone to her illness and not just writing a novel so others will pity her unfortunate circumstances. She knows when to be serious and when to interject a funny anecdote or quote, which helps the reader connect with her more as a human. It was easy to visualize what her life is really like as Mairs describes all of the activities she partakes in. As a reader, it was always effortless to feel a connection with Mairs’ disability and how she handles it. She feels regrets about how her children had to be raised by a mother who had limited walking ability and energy, and she mentions how her husband had an affair with a healthier woman, “becoming the single, carefree, sexy youth he yearned-as who does not at times?-to be.” Many of her words are deep and have other meanings, making the reader think hard about what her message is trying to get across.
At many times while reading, it was easy to feel extreme sympathy for Mairs, while at other times it did feel as though she was trying release all of her emotions and make the reader feel what she feels. She describes all aspects of her life among the nondisabled, including her sexual life. As a reader, it felt very bold for her to venture to such private aspects of her life and allow others a full on view of being a cripple. She hides nothing and holds nothing back, which is refreshing to see from someone who could easily find no positive in their life. She describes the mundane matters of life that people who are healthy would never give a second thought to. Simple tasks such as using the restroom, showering, and getting dressed are impossible for her to handle on her own, yet when she writes about such topics, the reader can’t help but take notice of her extreme inner strength, even though her outer strength is lacking.
Her purpose for writing this book was to help others with MS to show them that you can overcome your inabilities by focusing on what you can do. This simple yet empowering fact allows all readers, regardless of having a disability or not, connect with everything Mairs is saying. It was interesting to read about the true thoughts of someone with such limited ability, yet such positive thoughts.
Massachusetts: Beacon Press Books, 1996
Nancy Mair’s writing contains a very sad but still optimistic tone to it in her poignant memoir, “Waist High in the World: A Life among the Nondisabled.” She uses many bits of unconventional and witty humor to keep the tone of the story as light as possible, even though it is describing her experiences with multiple sclerosis, or as she refers to it, MS. In some ways, using this tone helps to push the story along although sometimes it hinders its progress.
Mairs is a master of keeping a light tone to her illness and not just writing a novel so others will pity her unfortunate circumstances. She knows when to be serious and when to interject a funny anecdote or quote, which helps the reader connect with her more as a human. It was easy to visualize what her life is really like as Mairs describes all of the activities she partakes in. As a reader, it was always effortless to feel a connection with Mairs’ disability and how she handles it. She feels regrets about how her children had to be raised by a mother who had limited walking ability and energy, and she mentions how her husband had an affair with a healthier woman, “becoming the single, carefree, sexy youth he yearned-as who does not at times?-to be.” Many of her words are deep and have other meanings, making the reader think hard about what her message is trying to get across.
At many times while reading, it was easy to feel extreme sympathy for Mairs, while at other times it did feel as though she was trying release all of her emotions and make the reader feel what she feels. She describes all aspects of her life among the nondisabled, including her sexual life. As a reader, it felt very bold for her to venture to such private aspects of her life and allow others a full on view of being a cripple. She hides nothing and holds nothing back, which is refreshing to see from someone who could easily find no positive in their life. She describes the mundane matters of life that people who are healthy would never give a second thought to. Simple tasks such as using the restroom, showering, and getting dressed are impossible for her to handle on her own, yet when she writes about such topics, the reader can’t help but take notice of her extreme inner strength, even though her outer strength is lacking.
Her purpose for writing this book was to help others with MS to show them that you can overcome your inabilities by focusing on what you can do. This simple yet empowering fact allows all readers, regardless of having a disability or not, connect with everything Mairs is saying. It was interesting to read about the true thoughts of someone with such limited ability, yet such positive thoughts.
February 18, 2022
Going into this book, I was a little scared but not for the reason you may think. My best friend gave me this book to read, and me trusting her judgement happily did so. I was scared because this author, Nancy Mairs, has a PhD in English and I was so worried I wouldn't understand a single passage or chapter. All my fears were soon quelled because oh my gosh this book is a work of art. Reading it was a bit difficult (I had the dictionary tab on my computer constantly open) but other then that I had the best time reading. The way she describes her life in this book with MS is truly beautiful. Reading books like these always open my eyes to new perspectives in the community and make me look deeper not only into the subject itself, but makes me think of my actions and words as well. What might not be offensive in my eyes, could be rude and ignorant in another's. One of the main reasons I love works like this is not only because I like the message (most of the time I love the message don't get me wrong) but because they make me think and reflect on myself as a person who is, on the outside, rather healthy.
My favorite chapters in this book are "Young and Disabled" and "Body in Trouble". These passages were the ones that spoke to me deep in my heart. I'm not going to spoil the contents that much but the way she uses her interviews and just her way of speaking hits me deep and I love her for it. Even if you don't feel like reading this book at least read these two chapters because oh my gosh they are amazing.
However, even though I did give this book 5 stars, just a fair warning it does use outdated terms like the r-slur and some other things to that manner. It was written 26 years ago back when this kind of language was used and many people did not know that those are offensive. But please do not let that factor deter you, this book has many great points and has an amazing message to spread. I love this book with all my heart and I hope other people will as well.
My favorite chapters in this book are "Young and Disabled" and "Body in Trouble". These passages were the ones that spoke to me deep in my heart. I'm not going to spoil the contents that much but the way she uses her interviews and just her way of speaking hits me deep and I love her for it. Even if you don't feel like reading this book at least read these two chapters because oh my gosh they are amazing.
However, even though I did give this book 5 stars, just a fair warning it does use outdated terms like the r-slur and some other things to that manner. It was written 26 years ago back when this kind of language was used and many people did not know that those are offensive. But please do not let that factor deter you, this book has many great points and has an amazing message to spread. I love this book with all my heart and I hope other people will as well.
February 2, 2022
It is truly a privilege to have read this poignant series of essays that mark several important subjects in disabled lives. There are aspects of life that are not covered in other narratives that are explored with the unique perspective of a highly educated and deterioratingly disabled woman. Intersectionality from lives well lived, though lived differently, are just as important as lives lived in the mainstream, but it is rare to find such voices in markets that only value what they have made normal.
Even when disabled narratives are followed, most reduce the complex issues and people to one factor, objectify or infantilize disabled people and their lives, or make their story inspiration porn. Such stories are unacceptable but commonplace, yet funnily enough, they’re not written by disabled people. Disabled stories, narratives, lives, opinions, and experiences must be the disabled media that people consume because it is the most accurate, but one disabled person does not speak for the whole community.
Mairs does not speak for all physically disabled people, nor does she speak for all people with MS. Even she recognizes that she can only speak for herself and her experiences. Her perspective is unique and speaks for her experiences with many prominent or specific issues, and it is an important one to read to begin or continue understanding disabled experiences. She brings humanity into her life and her disability as they are inseparable as she is a disabled person.
Her wit and intellectual style of writing shape her descriptions leading to an enjoyable reading experience save for a few chapters. She scattered personal anecdotes unrelated to her themes, so the glimpses into events in her life find themselves to be out of place and falling on the ears of the wrong crowd. While they are interesting, the context of her essays and her style of writing do not provide room for her personal anecdotes to express the emotion it needs to to keep the audience engaged.
Although the study into a disabled life has aged well with its message still being extremely relevant, the use of offensive language, the r - word, is absolutely unacceptable. She did not use it insultingly, rather as the classifying language she had to include a community in her work, but her inclusivity in this matter falls flat due to the offensive rather than inclusive qualifier. She also uses ableist language that she is entitled to use, but she also advises against the usage of the term by physically nondisabled people in a thorough manner that explores the complexities of identity and language.
Her representation of her experiences as well as her observations of society reveal the challenges and joys of disabled life well. Her portrayal of disabled culture as well as society’s interactions with it makes it a must read for disabled and non disabled folks alike.
Even when disabled narratives are followed, most reduce the complex issues and people to one factor, objectify or infantilize disabled people and their lives, or make their story inspiration porn. Such stories are unacceptable but commonplace, yet funnily enough, they’re not written by disabled people. Disabled stories, narratives, lives, opinions, and experiences must be the disabled media that people consume because it is the most accurate, but one disabled person does not speak for the whole community.
Mairs does not speak for all physically disabled people, nor does she speak for all people with MS. Even she recognizes that she can only speak for herself and her experiences. Her perspective is unique and speaks for her experiences with many prominent or specific issues, and it is an important one to read to begin or continue understanding disabled experiences. She brings humanity into her life and her disability as they are inseparable as she is a disabled person.
Her wit and intellectual style of writing shape her descriptions leading to an enjoyable reading experience save for a few chapters. She scattered personal anecdotes unrelated to her themes, so the glimpses into events in her life find themselves to be out of place and falling on the ears of the wrong crowd. While they are interesting, the context of her essays and her style of writing do not provide room for her personal anecdotes to express the emotion it needs to to keep the audience engaged.
Although the study into a disabled life has aged well with its message still being extremely relevant, the use of offensive language, the r - word, is absolutely unacceptable. She did not use it insultingly, rather as the classifying language she had to include a community in her work, but her inclusivity in this matter falls flat due to the offensive rather than inclusive qualifier. She also uses ableist language that she is entitled to use, but she also advises against the usage of the term by physically nondisabled people in a thorough manner that explores the complexities of identity and language.
Her representation of her experiences as well as her observations of society reveal the challenges and joys of disabled life well. Her portrayal of disabled culture as well as society’s interactions with it makes it a must read for disabled and non disabled folks alike.
January 14, 2020
We disagree on so much. The connection between mind & body (she is her body; I am not, and that’s a religious statement as much as a statement of current physical realitites). She doesn’t speak for me — and she doesn’t claim to! She says, specifically, she only writes about herself!
... but we’re held together under the same rickety, tattered umbrella of “disabled” (or “crippled”, if you prefer). So it doesn’t matter that we’re different; we’re the same in the ways it matters.
Her description of cripples as dealing more or less courageously to their lives, with a minimum or lack of self-pity, is ... not true to my personal experience. to put it mildly. Is this because my disabilities are invisible? undiagnosed (i’m still trying)? because i’m routinely told i’m making things up? Hmm.
Suicide (euthanasia) is, she says, kinda rude. Why would someone “not want to be a burden” when caring for others is such a joyful act? You’re basically giving your family a gift!!
Well.
There is a definite preference for the cheerfully disabled, the ones who don’t complain and whine but “just get on with it”, as she says, “because you have to.”
Of course you don’t have to. There is always a choice, sometimes even more than one. And though she calls suicide to be a failure to consider the options (have you tried -not- being chronically ill?), she’s wrong: it’s okay to choose something bad for you. It’s okay to eat nothing but chocolate for the rest of your life. It’s okay to date the wrong men. It is okay to decide that you’re sick of the whole goddamn thing and you want to end it. The choice is what matters.
... but we’re held together under the same rickety, tattered umbrella of “disabled” (or “crippled”, if you prefer). So it doesn’t matter that we’re different; we’re the same in the ways it matters.
Her description of cripples as dealing more or less courageously to their lives, with a minimum or lack of self-pity, is ... not true to my personal experience. to put it mildly. Is this because my disabilities are invisible? undiagnosed (i’m still trying)? because i’m routinely told i’m making things up? Hmm.
Suicide (euthanasia) is, she says, kinda rude. Why would someone “not want to be a burden” when caring for others is such a joyful act? You’re basically giving your family a gift!!
Well.
There is a definite preference for the cheerfully disabled, the ones who don’t complain and whine but “just get on with it”, as she says, “because you have to.”
Of course you don’t have to. There is always a choice, sometimes even more than one. And though she calls suicide to be a failure to consider the options (have you tried -not- being chronically ill?), she’s wrong: it’s okay to choose something bad for you. It’s okay to eat nothing but chocolate for the rest of your life. It’s okay to date the wrong men. It is okay to decide that you’re sick of the whole goddamn thing and you want to end it. The choice is what matters.
September 5, 2007
Plaintext is my favorite of her autobiographical essay books, but they’re all superb, and this book is probably my second favorite after Plaintext. Nancy Mairs writes incredibly skillfully (she’s a gifted writer), and with complete honesty and a wonderful sense of humor. These linked essays are about her life, especially her ms and her depression. This book, about very serious subjects, is a pleasure to read. Very accessible. Highly recommended.
September 25, 2020
This was the first book assigned for my Philosophy and Disability course. I am absolutely amazed by the book, it did a thorough job to put you in a reflective position and have thought-provoking conversations.
January 17, 2025
An essay collection by a writer and poet with MS, earlier in disability lit than I usually read. It comes across, too. I hadn’t thought much about the difference between being disabled now or 30 years ago, and I think it’s kind of a lot. Not just because inaccessibility was much more common and not stigmatized, but because people hadn’t gotten loud and visible yet. She had far fewer writers like herself to read and nobody to follow on Instagram. Anyway, she’s a great writer. Reminds me a little of Anne Lamott with her readability and humor.
“But woe is not me” is such a good line.
“But woe is not me” is such a good line.
May 24, 2017
chapters from varying interest, over all cool
August 30, 2013
Only two days into reading this book, I already knew I'd read it again. Probably immediately after finishing it. Several times a chapter there's a section I want to go write down for myself.
Strongly recommended to anyone who uses mobility aids, or faces the prospect of using them, or loves someone who does. In fact, strongly recommended, period.
A friend told me for weeks that I needed to read Nancy Mairs, until I finally went to the library and got the book they had on the shelf. I'll be getting more, whatever I can find. She writes brilliantly, candidly, and unflinchingly about life with disability.
An entire essay (and this is really a collection of essays more than a book of chapters) explores how "dead" metaphors embedded in our language ("dead" meaning they are so entrenched we don't even recognize them as metaphors) make "less" of people who use wheelchairs, for example. Things like "stand on your own two feet." "Face the world straight on." "Look the problem/the person/me in the eye." "Get off your ..."
As she puts it, "the truth is that, unless you are squatting or six years old, I can never look you straight in the eye, and I spend all my time sitting my ... except when I'm taking it lying down. These are the realities of life in a wheelchair."
I'm not doing her justice. Just go get the book. You'll be glad you did. It's about much more than wheelchairs. It's about what we value as a society, and the many ways we express that, and how someone with chronic illness can confront that, and go through it to find meaning, and joy, and worth. It's about why that is difficult. It puts into very articulate, even funny words, many issues I've been struggling with but haven't seen with anywhere near the clarity that Mairs presents.
Strongly recommended to anyone who uses mobility aids, or faces the prospect of using them, or loves someone who does. In fact, strongly recommended, period.
A friend told me for weeks that I needed to read Nancy Mairs, until I finally went to the library and got the book they had on the shelf. I'll be getting more, whatever I can find. She writes brilliantly, candidly, and unflinchingly about life with disability.
An entire essay (and this is really a collection of essays more than a book of chapters) explores how "dead" metaphors embedded in our language ("dead" meaning they are so entrenched we don't even recognize them as metaphors) make "less" of people who use wheelchairs, for example. Things like "stand on your own two feet." "Face the world straight on." "Look the problem/the person/me in the eye." "Get off your ..."
As she puts it, "the truth is that, unless you are squatting or six years old, I can never look you straight in the eye, and I spend all my time sitting my ... except when I'm taking it lying down. These are the realities of life in a wheelchair."
I'm not doing her justice. Just go get the book. You'll be glad you did. It's about much more than wheelchairs. It's about what we value as a society, and the many ways we express that, and how someone with chronic illness can confront that, and go through it to find meaning, and joy, and worth. It's about why that is difficult. It puts into very articulate, even funny words, many issues I've been struggling with but haven't seen with anywhere near the clarity that Mairs presents.
September 3, 2015
Written in a pleasing combination of poetic and scholarly language, this memoir was a delight to read. Mairs writes, that "This is not, however, a 'feel-good' book...I suppose you might call this instead a 'feel-real' book..." (18). Love it. Evidently "feel-real" books are just my kind.
Mairs addresses topics from sex to morality to travel as a woman with progressively advancing MS. Her musings are personal but also thoughtful in all of the best meanings of the word. One of the things that I love best about reading is how books can give you an idea of what it is like to exist as a different person. Mairs writes about what it is like to be a person in a wheelchair but makes it abundantly obvious that she is not just a person in a wheelchair (but that it is an integral part of who she is).
Mairs addresses topics from sex to morality to travel as a woman with progressively advancing MS. Her musings are personal but also thoughtful in all of the best meanings of the word. One of the things that I love best about reading is how books can give you an idea of what it is like to exist as a different person. Mairs writes about what it is like to be a person in a wheelchair but makes it abundantly obvious that she is not just a person in a wheelchair (but that it is an integral part of who she is).
February 28, 2016
I loved this! There were a couple little places where I wasn't altogether sure I was bright enough to get what she was saying, but most of this book saw me struggling to refrain from pounding my fist on the table with conviction. People look at you strangely when you do that in public. I got a new way of looking at offers of help, too. I don't know that it'll change how I react to what I see as the more inane ones, but it has given me something to consider.
June 29, 2018
A fantastic memoir on disability, womanhood, and writing. Mairs shows what it's like to go from able-bodied to disabled suddenly, what it's like to physically view the world from different positions, from standing and from sitting. A must read for any person interested in the lived experience of a wheelchair user with MS.
September 12, 2017
In this collection of ten poignant essays, Nancy Mairs discloses the acutely intimate and at times distressing revelations of living with a disability. Through the phenomenological dimension of an experiential locus, Mairs encourages the reader to travel along on a journey through the thoughts, feelings, and actions allied with an authentic accounting of her disability, and how it saturates the seemingly subjective experience into a recognizable universal attitude towards those regarded as “less fortunate”.
Throughout the essays, it is apparent that Mairs is both an expert writer and a remarkable storyteller. From seemingly grounded self-evident truths to prodigious interpretations of things as they really are, Mair’s prose and poesy coerce the reader to recognize the staggering abilities of the human mind that are sometimes dismissed in those considered “disabled”.
As Mair explains in the penetrating essay “Young and Disabled,” to “…build a life based on my needs rather than on other’s expectations of me” is a battle cry easily understood by many; both those “able” and disabled (132). And, in a rare understanding of the deeply ethical complications of disability, Mair exclaims, “…people who act on principle are likely to sacrifice the individual for the agenda, which is frequently shaped by their own, often deeply buried, presuppositions about what constitutes an acceptable life” (120).
The writings of Mair are undoubtedly readable. Not because they are unpretentious but because Mair has mastered the art of conveying profoundly personal modes of being in writing. This is an arduous craft which makes all but the simplest existential and phenomenological ideas problematic.
In Mair’s writing, there is also a stout Feminist influence. This persuasion, however, is a pleasantly interwoven part of the whole. It is not overpowering, nor is it defensive. It is exactly the right amount for any reader to appreciate the importance of feminist theory to any experiential understanding of the human experience.
I would recommend this book to many diverse readers. From those new to studying disabilities, to those struggling to find their voice in writing, Mairs style of writing is both accessible and informative.
Enjoy the Read!
February 2, 2019
What a spectacular essay collection! Nancy Mairs weaves together autobiography on illness, disability, marriage, and feminism in her essays that comprise "Waist-High in the World." I would highly recommend this book alongside the work of theologian John Swinton for forming a robust picture of disability and disability theology.
April 25, 2024
I beg non disabled people to read this book!! As a young woman with (most likely) MS, and a wheelchair user, I have never felt more represented in anything in my life. The way Mairs writes about her experience is so raw and true, but as exactly how it is. It is fluffed up to make you feel better or made to sound worse than it is. I agree with everything said in this book. Please read.
September 7, 2024
“Woe is not her,” begins the astute excerpted Washington Post Book World review of Waist High In The World. Yes, indeed! I loved this joyous and devastating collection of essays about Mairs’ experience of MS and navigating the world with profound physical disability. Published in 1996, it reads as somehow both timeless and ahead of its time. Required reading for all able bodied humans!
December 8, 2020
3.5/5 - loved the first half
January 30, 2021
The ESSENTIAL reading guide to disability studies!
December 14, 2023
very good memoir!! never wanted to put it down
Read
December 30, 2023"I choose joy."
August 30, 2022
Had to read it for a course so I wasn’t that motivated, although it was an interesting memoir.
November 25, 2018
A collection of essays that form a sort of memoir about her life coping with Muscular Dystrophy. I liked all of the essays a lot, though they ranged from intimate musings to more political pieces about the American with Disabilities Act. One of my favorites was about her helping to bust snake oil salesman who robbed desperate ailing people of thousands of dollars by selling sham treatments. Wonderful.
February 16, 2011
Nancy Mairs, Goodreads
In this memoir by Nancy Mairs we are given an in depth view of what it means to be labeled as "crippled". Mairs takes us along on her journey, from her life before her diagnosis of multiple sclerosis, the strange and difficult journey she took in finding a diagnosis for her disease, and how she views herself now, wheel-chair bound. This is not just an exploration of how Mairs now fits into society, but even more one on how she accepts herself and how she works with the disease that she has been dealt, rather than raging against it.
While the topic of being handicapped can often be approached with an overly sympathetic tone, Mairs handles herself with dignity and often humor. Throughout the novel Mairs realizes the obstacles that she faces, and instead of giving in decides to overcome them. When the MS slouched and confined her, forcing her to walk lopsided and awkwardly, like a newborn fawn she is horrified by the way she looks, but, Mairs does not give in; "[t]he self-loathing I feel is neither physically nor intellectually substantial. What I hate is not me but a disease".
These memoirs are not a plead for help, or a call to action for the crippled community. They are, instead, the honest and raw emotions of a woman who's world became strange and different to her. They are the feelings and ideas of a woman who used to enjoy sports, activities with her husband and children, and being independent, and who now must rely on family and friends to help her get by. Nancy does not sugar coat things. She doesn't believe her disease is a punishment, or a gift. It is simply something that is now a part of her that she must live with.
While reading this novel I found myself wincing at the honesty that Mairs doles out. Her writing is vivid and vibrant. When she is depressed, it pulls the reader down into the depths of her depression, when she is triumphant the reader cheers along with her. My view of the handicapped community was rocked a bit upon putting this novel down, and my view of Nancy Mairs is certainly one of a brave and triumphant woman.
In this memoir by Nancy Mairs we are given an in depth view of what it means to be labeled as "crippled". Mairs takes us along on her journey, from her life before her diagnosis of multiple sclerosis, the strange and difficult journey she took in finding a diagnosis for her disease, and how she views herself now, wheel-chair bound. This is not just an exploration of how Mairs now fits into society, but even more one on how she accepts herself and how she works with the disease that she has been dealt, rather than raging against it.
While the topic of being handicapped can often be approached with an overly sympathetic tone, Mairs handles herself with dignity and often humor. Throughout the novel Mairs realizes the obstacles that she faces, and instead of giving in decides to overcome them. When the MS slouched and confined her, forcing her to walk lopsided and awkwardly, like a newborn fawn she is horrified by the way she looks, but, Mairs does not give in; "[t]he self-loathing I feel is neither physically nor intellectually substantial. What I hate is not me but a disease".
These memoirs are not a plead for help, or a call to action for the crippled community. They are, instead, the honest and raw emotions of a woman who's world became strange and different to her. They are the feelings and ideas of a woman who used to enjoy sports, activities with her husband and children, and being independent, and who now must rely on family and friends to help her get by. Nancy does not sugar coat things. She doesn't believe her disease is a punishment, or a gift. It is simply something that is now a part of her that she must live with.
While reading this novel I found myself wincing at the honesty that Mairs doles out. Her writing is vivid and vibrant. When she is depressed, it pulls the reader down into the depths of her depression, when she is triumphant the reader cheers along with her. My view of the handicapped community was rocked a bit upon putting this novel down, and my view of Nancy Mairs is certainly one of a brave and triumphant woman.
July 4, 2011
Superb writer. Glorious message. Wonderful person. A must-read for everyone, since the "Nondisabled" will be disabled at some point in their lives. Wisdom abounds on every page. I especially enjoyed her skewering of American attitudes toward "cripples" and America's resentment toward social welfare. Every critic of "entitlement" programs should be forced to reckon with Nancy's fury in this scathing passage:
"Look at me. Do you think being like this is worth the paltry goodies society hands out? Do you really believe I'm enduring this so as to get a convenient parking spot and a ramp to the door? Do you think I prefer $6000 a year in disability payments to earning more than five times that much and enjoying collegiality and prestige as well? Do you think anything you could offer me would make up for MS? What are you, some kind of nut?"
Tear them a new one, Nancy! We're cheering you on.
"Look at me. Do you think being like this is worth the paltry goodies society hands out? Do you really believe I'm enduring this so as to get a convenient parking spot and a ramp to the door? Do you think I prefer $6000 a year in disability payments to earning more than five times that much and enjoying collegiality and prestige as well? Do you think anything you could offer me would make up for MS? What are you, some kind of nut?"
Tear them a new one, Nancy! We're cheering you on.
December 12, 2008
This book was given to me when I started suffering from symptoms that are very similar to MS. (I do not yet have a diagnosis.) The author writes a lot like I do; honestly, openly, unabashedly about her experience of having a full, beautiful life that isn't centered around her ability. She uses the word "nondisabled" to talk about those with less health challenges, because she feels that being disabled is such a blessing that those who do not share it are lesser, not the other way around.
I highly suggest this book to people facing any sort of degenerative illness, or who live life at waist-height (in a wheelchair). The author does everything from raising two children to helping the government as an undercover agent (no lie).
I highly suggest this book to people facing any sort of degenerative illness, or who live life at waist-height (in a wheelchair). The author does everything from raising two children to helping the government as an undercover agent (no lie).
October 28, 2013
I read this book many years ago for my book group..What Im left with is the memory of the author's ability to slip the reader under her skin...One literally feels you are experiencing her joys and sorrows of being living with a physical disability in a lookist world obsessed with appearances...She notes the awkwardness of behaviors of the abled bodied upon her condition with good graces and humor..I found myself thinking this was such an important book for us "nondisableds" to read because it triumphs in the ability to shed light on on the predicament of the disabled...It the process , it humbled me and made me more thoughtful of the human condition in all of us and how we all have our own disabilities, whether physical or not.
February 15, 2011
A good autobiographical book about Nancy Mairs who is dealing with MS. This is a very personal story, but yet Nancy Mairs never feels sorry for herself. She's always looking forward and being positive about her experiences.That doesn't Ms. Mairs doesn't honestly tell how difficult it is to be disabled and the barriers she has had to overcome. She has a great support group and she values the importance of that group.
This book gave me pause and made me appreciate the life I have. It also made me realize how blind we are to the disabled and how difficult day to day functioning is, unless we are or know of someone who is disabled.
This book gave me pause and made me appreciate the life I have. It also made me realize how blind we are to the disabled and how difficult day to day functioning is, unless we are or know of someone who is disabled.
January 12, 2014
Although this book was written in the late 90's, Nancy Mairs experience with Multiple Sclerosis and how it has changed who she is and how she navigates the world is timeless. I would like to think that through technology and updates to the ADA that the world has become more physically accessible for her and other folks who see the world at belly button level. Nancy is quick witted, direct, and articulate. I appreciated this book and will look for more books from her. She was diagnosed with MS at age 28 & is now around 70 years old - so glad that she has continued to write books and address groups as a professional speaker/lecturer.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 50 reviews