House Logo
Explore categories +

Mark Haddon (#110 of 2)

Grappling with Intellectual Disability Michael Bérubé’s The Secret Life of Stories

Comments Comments (...)

Grappling with Intellectual Disability: Michael Bérubé’s The Secret Life of Stories
Grappling with Intellectual Disability: Michael Bérubé’s The Secret Life of Stories

Michael Bérubé’s The Secret Life of Stories: From Don Quixote to Harry Potter How Understanding Intellectual Disability Transforms the Way We Read is that rare book that manages to speak to its specialized academic audience while imagining and addressing a much broader readership. Bérubé, who’s the Edwin Erle Sparks Professor of Literature and Director of the Institute for the Arts and Humanities at Pennsylvania State University, has crafted an accessible, if still rigorous, study of the way fiction grapples with intellectual disability.

“Representations of disability are ubiquitous,” he states in his opening sentence, “far more prevalent and pervasive than (almost) anybody realizes.” Take Disney’s Dumbo: You maybe wouldn’t use the language of disability to describe the oversized ears of the titular elephant, but at the heart of the 1941 film is a message about overcoming—embracing even—one’s differences in order to succeed. By the end of Bérubé’s book, you’re likely to start spotting the way disability is often used as a trope in films as diverse as Minority Report, Total Recall, and Mad Max: Fury Road. But Bérubé wants to push us further than merely understanding the ubiquity of disability in pop culture. This is especially important as disability (both physical and intellectual) is often used as a metaphor or character trait in popular art, significant only in the way it teaches us something about a story or a character with rarely any nuance with regard to the disability itself.

Review: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre

Comments Comments (...)

Review: <em>The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time</em> at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre
Review: <em>The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time</em> at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre

When we first meet Christopher John Francis Boone, his arms are wrapped around a dog skewered by a pitchfork. The dog is dead. And so begins The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, both the beloved 2003 novel by Mark Haddon and the National Theatre’s stage production, which opened in London in 2012 and on Broadway on Sunday.

The initial narrative drive of the story is to discover who did the dog in. But the central conceit is that Christopher is autistic, possessed of a mind that calculates like a machine, runs on facts and logic alone, and can’t compute quirky human inventions like figures of speech, metaphors, or belief in God. The dead dog is window dressing; the drama is in Christopher’s head. The genius, and heartbreak, of Haddon’s novel is witnessing Christopher’s ability to navigate his world with precision and detachment as it crumbles around him and his inability to articulate or understand his pain.