Hello everybody, this is George Harvey (aka The Autistic Blogger), and today I’ve decided to start a new segment on my blog called Are They Autistic? – inspired by the Channel 4 documentary, Are You Autistic? (2018). In this series, I’ll be looking at characters from various forms of media and analysing whether I think they’re on the spectrum or not. These can include characters from books, TV shows or movies, and it doesn’t matter if their Autism isn’t confirmed. If they display similar traits, I’ll be talking about them.
Now, there are a couple of reasons why I decided to start this series. The first was variety: I’ve been writing this blog for five years now, and I wanted to give my regular viewers something new to read. More often than not, I write long reviews or segments of ‘Into My Autistic Mind‘. While these are engaging, I feel like I’m not challenging myself enough with them. Also, given that I currently work for Lidl – and everything that’s been happening lately – I probably won’t have the spare time to write longer posts. The second reason is for other people’s benefit. I don’t claim to be an expert on Autism. But I have noticed it’s easy for me to recognise Autistic symptoms; most notably in characters like Twilight Sparkle and Maud Pie from Friendship is Magic. If more people are aware of these traits and know how to handle them, it’ll be better for everyone in the long-run. With that said, I hope you enjoy this new series and find it enlightening.
***
The first character I’m going to look at comes from Jacqueline Wilson’s Rose Rivers (2018). For those of you who don’t know; the story follows a 12-year-old, Victorian-era girl, who lives in Kensington with her high-class family. The book aims to show us not only what life was like for these kinds of children, but why Rose is opposed to it. The story also acts as a sequel to Wilson’s 2016 novel, Clover Moon, which focuses on the lives of destitute children.
Rose, herself, is an intriguing character. But it was her sister, Beth, who caught my attention. Early on, it’s made abundantly clear she’s challenging to deal with; although she’s ten-years-old, she “still cries a great deal…frequently has tantrums…flings herself on the floor and screams and kicks,” (p.21). On top of that, she has some oddly specific interests: “dolls, sparkly things, counting, rocking,” (p.22) and Rose admits she “[doesn’t] know what she’s like inside,” (p.22).
It’s interesting to analyse a character like Beth because Autism wasn’t well-known in the 19th Century. The term didn’t exist back then, and it was more common to refer to such children as being “backward[s]” (p.21) or “imbecile[s]” (p.91). Some doctors even thought “pour souls like her [were] incapable of improvement” (p.91) and should be “[placed] in an asylum” (p.92). Beth’s parents don’t resort to this, but it’s clear they’re fearful and distant of her; “Papa loves Beth and makes a fuss of her sometimes, but he’s certainly not prepared to look after her. Mama rarely goes near Beth, even when she’s quiet and docile” (p.201).
Of course, having behavioural problems doesn’t mean someone is on the spectrum. And there can be many explanations for delayed emotional development. So, do I think Beth is Autistic? Yes, I do. And here’s why.
The most notable aspect about Beth is her limited speech. Throughout the story, she only ever speaks by repeating what someone says to her. For example: “‘It’s just me, Rose,’ I said. ‘Rose. Rose, Rose, Rose!’ [repeated Beth]” (p.22). Many people will recognise this as echolalia; a habit some Autistic children use to help them communicate and process information.
“‘Do you remember – he’s at school now,’ I said. ‘At school now,’ Beth agreed. ‘I wish I could go to school,’ I said. ‘Go to school,’ Beth said, as if she wanted to go too” (p.24).
Not all Autistic children do this, and their speech does tend to improve over time. However, for those on a higher spectrum, it helps them to understand things when they’re the ones saying them.
The story also addresses a common misconception. Children with Autism do have learning difficulties, but it doesn’t mean they’re stupid. In some cases, they’re even smarter than the average person. Rose discovers this firsthand. She used to think her sister only pretended to read, but one day she found her with Pilgrim’s Progress “muttering passages to herself while pointing along the lines” (p.23). Rose admits she finds this book “very heavy going [and] can never read more than a page or two at a time” (p.24). So Beth can read better than her older sibling. Unfortunately, most people only focus on her disruptive side. The problem, I think, is she’s not given a chance to show how bright she is. We find out she’s not allowed to touch books or ink bottles (p.110) because of previous incidents that saw her banned from the household classroom (p.109). As a result; nobody can see her skills in reading or writing – and she has no other creative outlets. As Rose puts it herself: “It must be so boring to be Beth. No wonder she is attached to her dolls.” (p.110)
There are other hints at Beth’s Autism too. These include; not liking to be touched (p.22), having strange habits like licking her fingers and then her dolls’ fingers (p.25), arranging things in size order (p.25), rocking back and forth (p.85/p.277), getting distracted easily (p.298), and “want[ing] to be in her own world,” (p.277). However, the one passage that convinced me, beyond a doubt, was during her Christmas dinner.
“She whimpered when she was served her vegetables because the carrots and parsnips were heaped on any old how. She likes each item of food to be entirely separate on her plate, and then she eats them in turn” (p.317).
This behaviour convinced me because it’s what I do. I don’t like experimenting with new food or mixing flavours. If something tastes good one way, I prefer not to change it. I also prefer having one food in my mouth at a time, so I can fully enjoy it – hence why I finish all of one before starting the next. I don’t know if any non-Autistic people do this. But given how closely Beth’s eating habits resembled mine, there was no question my mind she had Autism. Furthermore, it wasn’t just Beth who convinced me. It was the people around her.
One other character worth mentioning here is Nurse Budd; the “trained professional” Mrs Rivers hires to subdue Beth’s behaviour. A professional would, of course, have been less qualified in those days. And going by this Nurse, it’s clear they didn’t always know how best to handle Autistic children. Let me explain.
First of all, Nurse Budd describes her methods as “training” (rather than teaching). Just the use of this word shows how poorly-viewed disadvantaged children were in those times – lesser beings who needed conditioning to behave. Additionally, Nurse Budd often keeps Beth in her room and limits interactions with her family. Seclusion and loneliness are already two of the biggest problems with Autism, so they shouldn’t be reinforced. Children should be encouraged to grow their social skills, however tricky. Otherwise, they’ll become reclusive.
Now, to be fair, Nurse Budd does show some understanding of Beth’s condition. She knows she can’t cope with sudden change or surprises (p.68), and that she needs a “regular routine” (p.278) to guide her. Sometimes even I was won over by her methods. However, nothing could excuse her more extreme measures. Honestly, it was shocking to see what people deemed appropriate back then. First, she straps Beth to a chair and force-feeds her when she refuses to eat properly (pp.133-4). Then later at Christmas, she insists on her wearing a bib like a baby. Nurse Budd also claims “never [to] smack any of [her] charges” (p.148) – yet she does so when Beth accidentally tears a dress (p.379). She even seems to take advantage of Beth’s echolalia: “Miss Beth, Nurse Budd never smacks, does she? [Nurse asked.] “Never smacks, does she? [Beth replied]” (p148).
However, Nurse Budd’s worst crime involves her medicine: Godfrey’s Cordial. Although it’s “so safe it’s recommended for little babies” (p.87), she ignores the dosage instructions; giving it to Beth whenever she’s well-behaved or needs quietening down. Consequently, Beth becomes addicted to the substance and will do anything for more. Her improved behaviour is because her mind is in the wrong place – not because she’s learning. The overdose is so severe in fact that another doctor reveals it could’ve been fatal: “It’s a wonder this child is still standing.” (p.413)
Let me make this quite clear. Drugs and medication are NOT a cure for Autism. Autism is not a disease, and it’s not something that needs correcting. What Autistic children need are carers who are patient, know what they like and dislike, and can implement teaching methods which avoid stress or physicality. That’s why it’s fortunate for the Rivers they have Clover Moon. She takes over Beth’s care towards the end of the book; creating a drawing game which not only keeps her calm, but includes everything she likes, and allows Clover to praise her (pp.427-9). It gives us hope that Beth will eventually recover from her addiction and set herself on the right path.
So there you have it. Almost everything about Beth suggests she had Autism at a difficult time. The story paints a clear picture of how badly treated disadvantaged children were, and how far care and understanding of them have improved over the years. Rose Rivers is a delightful read for the main story, but I think it’s worth experiencing for history’s sake even more.
***
And that’s all I have to say. I hope you enjoyed this first instalment in what will hopefully be a long-running series. If you have any questions or recommendations, please leave me a comment – I’ll be more than happy to answer them. And, until next time, stay safe and stay tuned.
(Jacqueline Wilson, 2018, Rose Rivers, Double Day, Penguin Random House UK)
The Autistic Blogger 