Thursday, October 16, 2014
Book Review: THE FALL, by Diogo Mainardi
The Fall is the author's memoir of his son Tito, who developed cerebral palsy following medical malpractice at an Italian hospital. It is, as blurb says, a history of the Western world with Tito at its center, as he is the center of his father's life. It is about acceptance, anger, and what "normal" means. Tito's birth and all its attendant struggles is the consequence of a long line of "falls" and his life as an example of what it means to get back up.
Because falling is only one half of the story. There's also those 424 steps. For several years when Tito was a child and learning to walk, he fell constantly. His father would count the number of steps Tito could take without falling. 424 was the record number of literal steps that Tito took and the point at which his father stopped counting. Because as much as the book is about Tito's disabilities, it's also a love letter to his son and to that moment when Mainardi could let go and stop counting his son's steps, the moment when it became unremarkable for his son to walk.
Mainardi breaks the book into 424 sections, most very short, and intersperses personal memories with historical anecdotes and stories. He talks about art and architecture, about other people who lived with cerebral palsy, and about the Holocaust and how Hitler's program to exterminate the Jews started with exterminating the disabled.
He also raises the sensitive question of exploitation via a section about a politician who spoke publicly about his son's cerebral palsy and was criticized. In doing so he implicitly asks whether this book represents exploitation of Tito, I think. I don't think so. I think people are uncomfortable with illness and difference and often react by blaming their uncomfortable feelings on those doing the talking. Rather than deal with people who are different, and deal with their own discomfort, it's easier to point the finger and try to shut someone up with accusations like "exploitation.". I think as a writer and as a person, Mainardi needs to talk about his son, and deserves to, with the same pride and love as any parent.
The thing I love most about this book, and the thing I'll take away with me, is when Mainardi talks about how Tito is "just a person I know," how when you love someone with a disability you don't think of the disability, you just think of the person as a person. This is so true to my experience. Whether or not you have experience with people with disabilities, I can't recommend Mainardi's memoir highly enough. There is so much compassion and love flowing through the pages of this marvelous book.
FTC Disclosure: I received this book for review from Other Press.