I Got A Condition
Aug. 4th, 2009 11:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Finally picked up A Mango-Shaped Space by Wendy Mass—
queenlyzard recommended it to me some time back as a YA novel about synesthesia, something I might, for obvious reasons,want to take a look at . I kept forgetting to look for it, but when I came across it while shelving books the other day, I seized it.
And, as with any book that portrays an experience that I can share, I have opinions. Starting with the cover.
I love this cover. I have never seen a book cover that was so surprisingly accurate and so infuriatingly wrong at the same time.

I’m not talking about the cover art, which is not very interesting, but about the letters at the top. I don’t know if it’s apparent on this image, but each letter has not only a specific color, but also a texture. The g even has purple spots. This is actually pretty true to what goes on in a synesthete’s head—letters do indeed have color and texture.*
However … it’s still overwhelmingly wrong.
I mean, in what crazy mixed-up backwards upside-down bizarro universe is the letter a YELLOW?
Seriously. Everyone knows it’s bright pink.
Don’t even get me started on that m. Good god.
Anyway, while the book has a nice enough plot of standard tweenage Journey Of Self-Discovery, I must admit the portrayal of The Synesthesia Experience felt—well, overdone. Granted, I’m only comparing to my own experience, but it is strange to see its process be so dramatic. Unlike the main character in this book, I had no traumatic school experiences involving ridicule by classmates and angry parent-teacher conferences; no fleeting fear that I was crazy; no carrying it as a deep dark secret; no real way it inhibited my life. I just remember it always being there, and finding out through a very short conversation** (so unremarkable that I don’t remember who it was with) that I might be unique, and then not really worrying about it or even giving it a second thought. Then I found an article that named it, and I got rather interested in it for a while because hey, who wouldn’t be interested in their own newly-discovered mutant power? It never would have occurred to me that it was a stigma of any sort, or something to fear.
And the badge on the cover saying that this book won the ALA Schneider Family Book Award, which honors the “artistic expression of the disability experience,” is just bizarre. When the hell has synesthesia ever been a disability? I mean, yes, it’s unusual, and yes, for some it can be distracting, and yes, it can give you strong opinions about really weird things. And, yes, every once in a while somebody reacts with slight hostility when you explain what it is.
That, my friends, is not a disability. You can’t say, straightfaced, that synesthesia is anything like those real disabilities, the ones people really have to work around. A synesthete can’t tell someone with, say, severe ataxic cerebral palsy “Oh, yeah, I know exactly what you’re going through with your disability, with the falling down and the speech problems and the writing problems and the morons who think you aren’t intelligent and so forth. Why, just the other day I saw a poster with the letters all mixed up, and it was mildly irritating.”
Hell, I don’t think synesthesia even counts as a condition. It’s pretty much a sensory bonus.
*ahem* Sorry. Sometimes I get a little annoyed with that sort of thinking.
But there were some moments that rang wonderfully true. For a non-synesthete, the author gives some pretty spot-on descriptions of the main character’s extremely specific sensations for the colors of graphemes, and there’s one great bit when a the synesthesia specialist asks the main character how she pictures the calendar year, and she says “Just like everybody else” and then launches into a long confused description of the year as a Ferris wheel that goes counterclockwise and falls over and god knows what else. And the way she feels totally attached to it, like it’s an important part of her, is great.
Mostly my response to the book is one you get when someone else describes something you’ve experienced, too—you want to tell your version of it. And it will probably help at least a few kids recognize their own synesthesia. Likeable, but not my usual style.
*And also 3-D depth, lighting, highlights, gender, personality, and location in space, but that’s hard to render on a book cover. And it’s not always, mind. Just for some.
**“You ever notice how letters and numbers have color?”
“... No.”
“Oh. It must just be me then.”
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And, as with any book that portrays an experience that I can share, I have opinions. Starting with the cover.
I love this cover. I have never seen a book cover that was so surprisingly accurate and so infuriatingly wrong at the same time.

I’m not talking about the cover art, which is not very interesting, but about the letters at the top. I don’t know if it’s apparent on this image, but each letter has not only a specific color, but also a texture. The g even has purple spots. This is actually pretty true to what goes on in a synesthete’s head—letters do indeed have color and texture.*
However … it’s still overwhelmingly wrong.
I mean, in what crazy mixed-up backwards upside-down bizarro universe is the letter a YELLOW?
Seriously. Everyone knows it’s bright pink.
Don’t even get me started on that m. Good god.
Anyway, while the book has a nice enough plot of standard tweenage Journey Of Self-Discovery, I must admit the portrayal of The Synesthesia Experience felt—well, overdone. Granted, I’m only comparing to my own experience, but it is strange to see its process be so dramatic. Unlike the main character in this book, I had no traumatic school experiences involving ridicule by classmates and angry parent-teacher conferences; no fleeting fear that I was crazy; no carrying it as a deep dark secret; no real way it inhibited my life. I just remember it always being there, and finding out through a very short conversation** (so unremarkable that I don’t remember who it was with) that I might be unique, and then not really worrying about it or even giving it a second thought. Then I found an article that named it, and I got rather interested in it for a while because hey, who wouldn’t be interested in their own newly-discovered mutant power? It never would have occurred to me that it was a stigma of any sort, or something to fear.
And the badge on the cover saying that this book won the ALA Schneider Family Book Award, which honors the “artistic expression of the disability experience,” is just bizarre. When the hell has synesthesia ever been a disability? I mean, yes, it’s unusual, and yes, for some it can be distracting, and yes, it can give you strong opinions about really weird things. And, yes, every once in a while somebody reacts with slight hostility when you explain what it is.
That, my friends, is not a disability. You can’t say, straightfaced, that synesthesia is anything like those real disabilities, the ones people really have to work around. A synesthete can’t tell someone with, say, severe ataxic cerebral palsy “Oh, yeah, I know exactly what you’re going through with your disability, with the falling down and the speech problems and the writing problems and the morons who think you aren’t intelligent and so forth. Why, just the other day I saw a poster with the letters all mixed up, and it was mildly irritating.”
Hell, I don’t think synesthesia even counts as a condition. It’s pretty much a sensory bonus.
*ahem* Sorry. Sometimes I get a little annoyed with that sort of thinking.
But there were some moments that rang wonderfully true. For a non-synesthete, the author gives some pretty spot-on descriptions of the main character’s extremely specific sensations for the colors of graphemes, and there’s one great bit when a the synesthesia specialist asks the main character how she pictures the calendar year, and she says “Just like everybody else” and then launches into a long confused description of the year as a Ferris wheel that goes counterclockwise and falls over and god knows what else. And the way she feels totally attached to it, like it’s an important part of her, is great.
Mostly my response to the book is one you get when someone else describes something you’ve experienced, too—you want to tell your version of it. And it will probably help at least a few kids recognize their own synesthesia. Likeable, but not my usual style.
*And also 3-D depth, lighting, highlights, gender, personality, and location in space, but that’s hard to render on a book cover. And it’s not always, mind. Just for some.
**“You ever notice how letters and numbers have color?”
“... No.”
“Oh. It must just be me then.”
Hmm...
Date: 2009-08-05 06:16 am (UTC)Re: Hmm...
Date: 2009-08-05 06:34 am (UTC)And there are preferences influenced by synesthesia--I have a passionate dislike for the letter "c," for example--that make us a bit eccentric.
But describing it as a "disability"--something that impedes everyday functioning--is a stretch no matter what.
Re: Hmm...
Date: 2009-08-05 09:34 am (UTC)I have no idea why I hate the letter f so much. Possibly it brought a crappy Sesame Street episode to me as a tot.
...Actually that's about the only letter I hate. I do have an unreasoning LOVE of the letters J, V, Q, and X however.
Except now that I think about it, the love may not be 'unreasoning' and might have to do with playing Scrabble a lot. Hrm.
Re: Hmm...
Date: 2009-08-05 01:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-05 03:41 pm (UTC)Disability?
Date: 2009-08-05 04:12 pm (UTC)Except, of course, the major life activity of drawing the letter n in whatever color you're asked. :P
Re: Disability?
Date: 2009-08-05 04:24 pm (UTC)Re: Hmm...
Date: 2009-08-05 04:26 pm (UTC)... Yeah, you have just had a rather scary glimpse into the weirder aspects of my brain.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-05 04:39 pm (UTC)Everyone always just gets it wrong. *shakes head*
no subject
Date: 2009-08-05 06:24 pm (UTC)But yeah, I'd still call synesthesia a different way of being, rather than a true disability.
BRB, playing devil's advocate
Date: 2009-08-05 06:34 pm (UTC)Re: BRB, playing devil's advocate
Date: 2009-08-05 06:56 pm (UTC)Re: Hmm...
Date: 2009-08-05 07:15 pm (UTC)But.. yeeah. Weird brain, check, scary glimpse, not so much so =)
I love me my weird brained friends!
no subject
Date: 2009-08-05 11:06 pm (UTC)Also, everything these days is a condition to the psychiatrical or medical mind. Even easily-changed things like Delayed Sleep-phase Syndrome.
The thing to realize about the word "condition" is that it isn't synonymous with the word "problem". It's more accurate to say it's synonymous with "trait". It's just an excessively rigorous way of keeping track of what kind of person you are.
Also also, I personally like the letter "c"- because it's for "cookie".
no subject
Date: 2009-08-05 11:07 pm (UTC)BTW, I've been meaning to ask: does choice of font have any effect on what color your brain ascribes to letters? Do you get different colors for sans serif than you do for, say, German blackletter? Does lowercase a have the same color with or without a curl on top?
Re: BRB, playing devil's advocate
Date: 2009-08-05 11:07 pm (UTC)Re: BRB, playing devil's advocate
Date: 2009-08-05 11:10 pm (UTC)(If you want to know, this viewpoint grew out of a sense of solidarity deaf people developed with one another as a result of being a strong yet highly isolated minority in a larger society that was largely ambivalent to them. They often live in special communities and have cultural peculiarities such as the kind of parties, movies and schooling they engage in.)
no subject
Date: 2009-08-05 11:12 pm (UTC)That's good enough for me.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-05 11:14 pm (UTC)We know that this cover isn't objectively wrong, but by god, you try telling our crossed wires that.
DSPS is also very difficult to treat, which is why it's different from jet lag. That's why it's defined as a syndrome. I still don't think it counts as a disability, but I find it a lot more difficult to work with than synesthesia.
Notice that I wasn't complaining about the word "condition." That's actually the one I prefer because it's the most neutral--although even then, it has taken on negative connotations in our normal registers. The thing that surprised me was that this book won an AWARD for portraying a DISABILITY. That seems pretty markedly crazy.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-05 11:16 pm (UTC)Not really, although some fonts bug me as being "out of character" for the letters. I always hated those puffy cardboard-cutout letters in kindergarten because they made the letters look clownish, and none of them liked that.
Re: BRB, playing devil's advocate
Date: 2009-08-05 11:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-06 01:41 am (UTC)...I'm not terribly good at commenting, so I probably won't be much bother. You just sound really interesting.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-06 03:44 am (UTC)I'm glad you like Daja! I am a bit of a doll nerd, and when I saw a doll that would work for her I couldn't resist. (She also has her staff, one of her sisters, and TAMORA PIERCE'S APPROVAL OMG.) And it's always great to meet another fan of Circle of Magic!
no subject
Date: 2009-08-06 05:18 am (UTC)I'm going to a conference that Tamora Pierce is going to be at in October, and I'm going to bring a paperback edition of Alanna I found at a thrift store in Michigan for her to sign (if I can ask without sounding like a total idiot). It's from 1984, which is the year I was born and kind of nice.
...erm, I seem to have not updated my info in a while, and I'm turning 25 shortly after said conference...
I love the Tris doll, too. I'm not so much into dolls, but fanworks in the shape of dolls take a staggering amount of work and I admire that quite a lot. My fanworks are limited to half-assed fics and photoshopping.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-06 06:25 am (UTC)I would love to see Tamora Pierce--but I don't know if it'd work out for me. Say hello to her from the Doll Girl.