Review: Wonder by R.J. Palacio
In the time since I first read Wonder, my understanding of my disfigurement, and the world it occupies, has transformed. How will I now read and receive what was the most personally representative book of my life?
In the time since I first read Wonder, my understanding of my disfigurement, and the world it occupies, has transformed. How will I now read and receive what was the most personally representative book of my life?
Despite some reservations, our reviewer would recommend this contemporary novel about young Bat – and the reviewer’s ten-year-old goddaughter agrees.
The portrayal of epilepsy in this book was frustrating and disrespectful. People with epilepsy deserve better than this.
Stoner & Spaz is funny and often unafraid of ambivalence, and I feel similarly ambivalent: liking a lot of what I got, yet wanting more of the stuff between the lines of what Ben says and does.
Queens of Geek is an authentic and refreshing portrayal of an autistic and anxious girl.
I was intrigued by the virtual-reality premise, but this book is a veritable hotbed of misogyny and a case study in how not to write a wheelchair-using character.
Princess Tilda does not demonstrate the need to “overcome” her clubfoot, that word many of us in the disability community have come to loathe. To me, Tilda represents a new kind of heroine, who is strong and doesn’t need saving, but also acknowledges and shows her vulnerability and insecurities.
All the way through the book, I felt that something was slightly off with the portrayal of Tessie’s selective mutism, but in a way that made it hard to pin down.
Wonderstruck is wonderful. It is, to date, the most creative and ambitious novel about the d/Deaf experience in America I’ve ever come across.
The characterization and descriptions of Grace do disabled readers a disservice in more ways than one.
I appreciated the honesty and authenticity with which the emotional aspects of serious illness were written; the actual details of day-to-day life with cystic fibrosis, however, were a mixed bag.
Skim does a good job of showing misguided attempts to help those with depression, and lets the reader see the absurdity for themselves.
I wish this book, featuring a girl newly diagnosed with Crohn’s, had existed when I was a teenager—my recurring thought throughout was, “Oh my god, someone wrote a book for me!”
While some elements of the representation were handled decently, I ultimately wasn’t a fan.
When Deenie was first published, it may well have been a positive representation of the experience of a child with scoliosis, but it hasn’t held up well.
Venkatraman creates a fully-formed character, and nails both the details and the emotion of having a limb amputated and adjusting to life afterwards.
Any time I pick up a book about addiction and recovery, I do so with equal parts hope and trepidation. Despite our differences, I understood Natalie fully and completely from the get-go.
I appreciated the nuance present in both Izzy’s portrayal as an undiagnosed teen with bipolar disorder and in the reactions of those around her.
Eli is a refreshing wheelchair-using character who regularly surprises and aids the protagonist with his skill set and mind.
Vivi’s struggle with bipolar disorder was portrayed accurately and compassionately, and I would highly recommend the book for readers who want to understand the illness better.
Six of Crows portrays disability with incredible nuance; it’s realistic, respectful, and perfectly integrated into the characters and story.
An emotionally wrenching book, but a worthy one, and one that treats its autistic protagonist with every bit of the realism and respect that she deserves.
I highly recommend this book to readers with disabilities who enjoy fantasy, particularly amputees. It’s great to see one of our own portrayed authentically and centered as a main character in an exciting adventure.
This series is a fascinating look at how a writer can acknowledge the “magical cure” trope and improve on the portrayal in later books.
I related to Mahlia’s struggle with the harsh words hurled at her because of her limb deficiency—sometimes wanting to prove herself and sometimes wanting to keep her distance.