Saturday, February 1, 2014

Book 2

Simsion, Graeme C. The Rosie Project. Melbourne: Text, 2013. 

Reading The Rosie Project was almost an accident---totally unscheduled.  I saw it in a local book store recently and was drawn to the festive red cover with a heart made of tiny yellow bike tracks.  I passed it up for another, seemingly wiser selection.

A few days later, there it was again, on my Christmas Kindle for 2.99. "This must be what e-readers are for," I thought, and I devoured it happily.  I liked the unique voice of the narrator, Don Tillman, and the relationship he builds with Rosie Jarman, his spunky, unlikely new friend.  However, I do wonder if it is authentic and I might have wished for a different ending.

 The great thing about "accidental" reads is they always surprise me. If I had known the plot and characters ahead of time, I might not have had quite as much fun deciphering the language of this book.

By the time I'd read far enough for  Don, the super-geeky genetics professor with two friends and very picky dating criteria, to finish giving his fabulous lecture on Asperger's syndrome to a bunch of kids a lot like him, I figured out that he probably has it too. He just doesn't exactly know it.

Like most heroes in romantic comedies, he doesn't exactly know he's in love either. Not until the very end. His growing irrational affection for Rosie is adorable.  From the very first accidental date, when she walks in a little late,   his number one pet peeve, he's able to adjust his rigid schedule and live on "Rosie time" (54).

I don't know how realistic any of it is, especially the DNA collection capers in search of Rosie's father, but it is good, cute fun with people who are different.  

It isn't that Asperger's is funny. It's painful sometimes, as Don shows readers. I felt for him, and felt EXTREMELY bad to know that I might have been one of the laughing crowds. What is funny, in this book and in life, is awkwardness. I should know.  I can be pretty awkward myself.

 Like Don, I remember being shocked and skeptical when someone found me attractive and/or or wanted me to call.  Unlike him, I can't say that I've ever answered the phone in the middle of my own genetics lecture and said, "I like you, too."  I'm not quite as "accustomed to creating an amusement inadvertently," (74) but I can relate.   
  
What Don and Rosie learn over the course of the story is that they are not actually as opposite as they seem. Of course Don is capable feeling love; it's obvious, it's just not usual. Love doesn't have to conform to any trivial standards.   So what if Don doesn't feel for fictional characters and eats lobster salad every single Tuesday? Some days I wish I were like that.

He also makes some pretty good observations about human behavior and some awesome cocktails. You wouldn't want to threaten him with all that martial arts training. 

Someone who knows about living with Asperger's may or may not have more complaints about accuracy. 

The one problem I know enough to have is that the story basically ends in a marriage/life partner proposal before the couple even establishes a relationship.  If Don Tillman isn't wired for social conventions, his story shouldn't have to follow the very old conventions of one genre. This isn't Shakespeare or Austen, romantic comedies can end differently now.

I mean, relationships are hard enough without significant social impairments.  I just wish Rosie could have stopped the movie music and said something really cheesy, like "WHOA. Hold on, babe, let's see how it goes."  I think Don would've been just fine. 

As he discovers, some of the best things in life are unscheduled.

PS. I would recommend the book Mocking Bird, by Kathryn Erskine, to anyone looking for a story that’s slightly less...cute involving Asperger's. This is ironic, because it's about a ten year old. I found it by “accident" in the children's department once.