Book Review: The Reason I Jump

The Reason I Jump: The Inner Voice of a 13 year old boy with Autism by Naoki Higashida is a must read for every parent, grandparent, teacher, doctor, and therapist that interacts with autistic individuals.  I cannot state this more clearly.  Acquire a copy as soon as you can and prepare to be enlightened.

Higashida’s experience is presented in a series of questions and answers which are interspersed with botanical illustrations and short stories by the author.  The emotional depths conveyed through his writing, the insights into his fragile human heart, and his awareness of how “normal” people relate to him as nothing more than “special needs” will change any preconceived notions you had about the autistic.  That they don’t feel.  That they are unaware of those around them.  That they are stupid. Prepare for your heart to break open as he shares the truth of his experience.  Writing in a manner that no “non-verbal” person should be able to, (especially considering he has to point to an image of a typewriter as someone else watches him and transcribes the letters he indicates), the imagery and metaphors Higashida conjured are poetic.  Proof indeed that you can accomplish anything you put your heart into.
The biggest take-away I got from this volume is that the person with autism experience their bodies differently from how the rest of us experience being corporeal.  Nakoi is not exactly sure of where his arms and legs attach to his torso, so following along in gym class is difficult.  Emotions aren’t something felt just in the heart, but they flood the nervous system.  Joy, rage, and everything in between physically manifests, which we see as “stimming”.  Sensations that we don’t notice, such as the way the fabric of our pants feels on our legs, can be anything from distracting to painful.  Likewise, a painful shot or burn might go by unnoticed.  Sensations we don’t understand, like the way light filters through one’s moving fingers, is a source of great joy.  The other greatest source of joy is nature itself.

Another area that Higashida details are his difficulties with language.  Like most people on the spectrum, he thinks in images.  Concepts without concrete form, like time, are hard to comprehend.  Speaking of time, his experience of it is not linear.  A memory from a decade ago can be as fresh as if the event just happened.  Conversely, a question asked five seconds ago can be forgotten as soon as the sound waves carrying it have dissipated towards the ends of the universe.  Why?  It needs to go through a translation process, and as it happen, things can and do get lost in translation.

And that gets me to the translation of the book.  In looking around the internet, there are a lot of people that don’t believe this book was written by a 13 year old boy.  Yes, there are several turns of phrases that were obviously embellished by the translator.  However, there was a note in the afterword stating the original text was written in a style influenced by Japanese poetry.  Furthermore, some of the original words have no English equivalent.  The translator was put in a position to try and mimic the sense of the original, and we end up with phrases like “born outside the regime of civilization.”  I do not feel this takes away any of the power of the story.  Other criticisms said that his point of view was a bit to “woo-woo” for their tastes.  I didn’t find this so, indeed, his beliefs about the afterlife and souls fits very much into a Japanese/Buddhist worldview.  Several parents of autistic individuals that took issue with Higashida’s use of “we” instead of “I”.  They felt he didn’t speak for their children, and that very well may be true. My experience was different, however, as every page made me say “so that’s why…”  I was floored by how much Emily had in common with the author.  The freedom and bliss of swimming.  The incessant bouncing.  The hand flapping when emotional.  The wrong words coming out.  The negative self-talk.  The visceral hatred of making a mistake.  How could this be?  My question was answered in the afterword.  The truth of the matter is that the autistic spectrum isn’t a straight line, with functional on one end and disabled at the other.  It's more akin to a field of polka-dots forever in motion.  Autism presents itself in myriad ways, and as Higashida explains, those ways can and do change.

I was especially taken with the answer to the question, “What are your thoughts on autism itself?”

“I think that people with autism are born outside the regime of civilization. Sure, this is just my own made-up theory, but I think that, as a result of all the killings in the world and the selfish planet-wrecking that humanity has committed, a deep sense of crisis exists. Autism has somehow arisen out of this. Although people with autism look like other people physically, we are in fact very different in many ways. We are more like travelers from the distant, distant past. And if, by our being here, we could help the people of the world remember what truly matters for the Earth, that would give us a quiet pleasure.”

The other lovely gem in the book comes when he answers the titular question.  Once you learn the reason behind his jumping, I’m sure you too will see the world and the person with autism that you love with a new set of eyes.