Reviews for Upward bound : a novel
Kirkus
Copyright © Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Residents and workers at a care facility for autistic adults attempt to interact across the divide of disability. Los Angeles’ Upward Bound is in some ways the average day care: “the locked cupboards with the craft supplies and toys.…there was a scruffy little play area in the far back.” The difference here is the clientele; rather than catering to children, Upward Bound provides care for disabled, mostly autistic, adults. In his debut novel, which reads like a collection of linked short stories, Brown details the lives of both the “typical” people who work at Upward Bound and a range of clients. There’s Walter, an autistic adult who takes pride in his Associate of Arts degree and his ability to communicate via letter board—and occasional echolalia in the form of phrases from TV scripts, especially episodes ofThomas the Tank Engine. There’s staff lifeguard Ann, who forms a crush on one of the clients with cerebral palsy during a summer shift before her senior year of college. Bumbling Dave, who moved to LA from Kentucky with dreams of being a Hollywood actor, forces his group to enact his ambitions via a holiday show. Brown—who was the first nonspeaking autistic graduate of UCLA—offers a vanishingly rare glimpse of the interiority of nonverbal autistic adults and a critique of the well-meaning but often misguided neurotypical people in their orbits. It’s jarring to have multiple characters use the R-word to describe those neurologically different from themselves—whether that’s a neurotypical person describing an autistic person or an autistic person describing someone with more profound disabilities. Perhaps Brown’s point is that it’s human nature to punch down—a sobering note in a novel that’s mostly full of humor and charm. A debut novel that truly breaks new ground. Copyright © Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Book list
From Booklist, Copyright © American Library Association. Used with permission.
The residents and staff of an underfunded adult care center in Los Angeles form the core of Brown's singular debut novel. Chief among them is narrator Walter, who, like the author, is nonspeaking and autistic. Describing his autism as “like ADHD times a thousand,” Walter is observant and capable, transcribing his thoughts. Though he has graduated with honors from community college, he can't be left on his own. When his father dies and his mom has to return to work, he is forced to spend his days at Upward Bound. Readers meet others at the facility through Walter's eyes and the characters' own, including “gentle giant” Jorge, movie-star handsome Tom, who has cerebral palsy, saintly aide Carlos, summer lifeguard Ann, and many more. “The story of my people isn't being told, or it's being told wrong,” Walter thinks, and he sets out to remedy that situation. Brown's sly sense of humor and ability to inhabit, without condescension, the experiences of those often marginalized, including the bumbling but well-intentioned caregivers, make the novel both quietly surprising and gently enlightening.
Publishers Weekly
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Brown’s compassionate debut delves with great insight into the lives and minds of the disabled residents of an adult day care center in Southern California. Each chapter tells a client or staff member’s story, and together they reveal a hidden world of the disenfranchised. Walter, autistic and nonspeaking, introduces readers to the ironically named facility, Upward Bound. His mother’s support and schooling enabled him to communicate with a letter board and attend college, but his dream of becoming a novelist faded after his father’s death and his mother’s return to work, leaving him without the necessary support (“Autism on my end of the spectrum is like ADHD times a thousand,” he explains). Jorge, his friend for 20 years who is also nonspeaking, had less nurture growing up, but he’s formed a special bond with Carlos, a staffer who hid a felonious past in order to get the gig, and who deeply empathizes with the clients (“Twenty-eight disabled adults whose lives were being spent in shabby boredom represented to Carlos the wastage of twenty-eight glorious galaxies”). There’s also Tom, who is nonspeaking, has cerebral palsy, and uses a wheelchair. His movie-star good looks attract the attention of Ann, a college student hired as a lifeguard at the facility’s pool who is at first frightened by her charges, then comes to embrace them. The author, who is nonspeaking and autistic, captures the humanity of his characters, particularly through Walter, who explains, “The story of my people isn’t being told, or it’s being told wrong. No neurotypical person can tell this story.” This captivating work illuminates a world too often ignored. Agent: Sarah Chalfant, Wylie Agency. (Mar.)
