This is a tricky book to review. I enjoyed it as memoir and as assorted reflections and observations on the experience of neurodivergence and how it can be made more or less unnecessarily challenging.
My first difficulty is because I am keenly aware of the existence in the world and especially around autism of those who enjoy, or are compelled to take, contrarian and hypercritical positions, perhaps because any mistakes or disagreements overshadow anything positive, perhaps because of their particular difficulties in generalising from another's experience. I don't want to be one of those people but it also seems insulting to me to shout "Yay! Autistic person writes a book! Five stars!" And I don't want to insult Pete Wharmby because he strikes me as a decent chap with an engaging, wryly funny writing style, as much right to earn an income as anyone else, and overall I wouldn't want to discourage people from reading it. Why shouldn't we capitalise on his abilities to communicate?
My difficulties with the book may be that I have simply reached my present limit with the "zeal of the autism 'convert'" (ie recently adult diagnosed) I don't think I would have found the book quite so irritating where I did (and I did) had the book been titled differently. For me, it was not the book it says it is on the cover... and doesn't need to be. That's not where its value lies. He's vehement about the annoyances of 'we're all a bit on the spectrum' and 'we all experience that' and rightly so... but, like so many he generalises and stereotypes the 'neurotypical' experience (ie non-autistic)
I wondered if the book could be read a different way - Pete Wharmby made it through school - PE was difficult, a lot of school wasn't, undergraduate and postgraduate English degrees (his abandoned PhD sounded a great topic to me), PGCE, worked as an English teacher in several (but not a red flag number of) schools, including as Head of Department, married and had a child (there seems no suggestion not entirely intentionally) And then, in his mid-30s had a breakdown (which he attributes to the arrival of that baby)...was (apparently to a great deal of surprise, which isn't always the case) diagnosed autistic at this point... and left employment during Covid lockdown. He's now building a career as a writer and speaker on autism and, by his account in this book, as a person who doesn't leave the house. What might we learn from that? (I rather suspect some of the contrarians might say this is all a strong argument that early identification is actively unhelpful and reasonable adjustments unnecessary...)
I am intrigued by what he doesn't say much about and I don't know if that is because he has written about it elsewhere (I've not read his other book, focusing on special interests, which came out last year) or he is saving it for another book. Given what he says about the trigger for his breakdown, he says very little about the experience of being an autistic parent and in book form at least, this is not such a well-documented area and important for the wider community to understand better. I know it isn't really the point of the book but there's a marked lack of detail about how he came to be diagnosed and the experience of assessment (given the long fight so many have)
The unforgivable bit for me (which may or may not be so important to a general readership) is where he gets into PDA territory. He seems to understand some of the controversies, seems sympathetic to the concept of it as a distinct profile. And then he proceeds a) to say he fits it (but it is all kept to a few pages rather than, as his ADHD does, popping up at several points) and, more importantly, to write something which seems to me to bear almost no relation to PDA as described by even the most cursory reading of the PDA website, let alone my experience of a young person diagnosed in 2006.
There's lots of useful insight and reflection - I was especially struck by his comments about unsurprising issues with public transport and that because of restricted earnings autistic people may be more likely to need to use public transport. I agree with a lot of his perspectives that others may contest (eg that autism isn't a 'superpower', although I can see that in this book some people will feel he's erred on the deficit model too much) Many will enjoy the moments of recognition (as I did the issues about shoelaces - but yeah, as another reviewer says, locking elastic laces mate!). There's a muddle around what is down to ADHD, other sometimes deemed neurodivergences, and what is down to autism (let alone mental health difficulties) but people are people not neat labels. And this is not a neat book about how the world isn't built for autistic people and what we should do about it.