Be an Oyster for Autism!

This book is very good but it ruffled my feathers... it reminded me of my son Quinn in many ways, and it made me laugh at some of the perfect descriptions,  but i found many parts that were surly and sour. I'll say that the book is well written and is very ineresting, but wanting.

For instance, after explaining his son's autism to one man, and the man said, "Oh, bad luck", the author's thoughts were, "Is that it? I thought, and my bad luck a that, not Joes (son's)? I make no secret of my desire for meaning.  But there are risks in such wishful vanity.  One is the hideous peril of falling for Hollywood-grade pholosophizing about mental disability and the sloying redemption of films like I Am Sam, or Forrest Gump in which invariably sweet-natured simpletons are put on this earth to do the rest of us good. God wants it this way, it's implied. They're useful these people, like swill army knives for the soul. One has to resist the temptation to think that Joe's value lies in therapy for the rest of us, a gift to help us rise above the trivial gripes of our spoiled lives." 

I have to say that i disagree with this author's take ... "wishful vanity" is a desire for meaning? ouch. This is definitely a glass half empty sort of book.

But Micheal, after most of the book describing the difficult life of his son and his family, argues in the end that the contrast of his son's lack will show us what it is to be fully human.  My son, though very much like Joe,  does much more for me than that. I was disappointed that the author does not celebrate his son more. For me, this is a book that is perfectly well written, but that lacks a soul.