By CHLOE CHAMPION | Moonshine Ink
“Brain on Fire” and “The Reason I Jump” deal with intricacies of the mind and mental conditions that aren’t very well understood. Both books are tied together by the idea that, although one may be unable to communicate, this does not mean that the mind, brain, and heart are not fully functional. These stories reveal dysfunction from the inside, and how these challenges are dealt with and overcome. These young authors are full of resilience and, without a doubt, the kind of courage that is not easily acquired. As a 16-year-old and a Bookshelf employee, I highly recommend both of these brilliantly written books.
“Brain on Fire” by Susannah Cahalan
“Brain on Fire” is the memoir of Susannah Cahalan, a 24-year-old woman who is overcome by a rare autoimmune disease that causes her to be a medical phenomenon. She’s dubbed an “interesting case” by her doctors, and her manic and erratic behavior leaves her family and friends bewildered, to say the least. The book recounts the life of an average, young, and assumingly healthy woman, and how it all went wrong so quickly and with hardly any warning. One moment she’s living her normal life, the next it’s to the hospital with the overhanging threat of the psych ward. It’s pretty bizarre. The book follows the hardships of Cahalan as she takes a journey down the rabbit hole of her condition. She can hardly remember the chaotic events that occur within a month’s time, beginning with her admittance to the hospital as a medical mystery and supposed flight risk. The majority of the book follows her time in the hospital, road to recovery, and her return to normal human tendencies and functions. To achieve this normalcy, Cahalan must recover from the physical and mental effects of her illness, which included paranoia, numbness of specific body parts, mood fluctuation, self-diagnosed bipolar disorder, seizures, catatonia, and others.
Personally, I enjoyed Cahalan’s editorial and factual style of writing (which isn’t surprising, considering she is a reporter for the New York Post). Once I picked up the book, I couldn’t put it down. I was intrigued by what could possibly be plaguing the narrator, and the story leaves you hanging. You curiously follow along with Cahalan until she eventually finds her accurate diagnosis. I was left feeling affected by her words on a personal level. In earnest, by the end of the book, I myself was questioning my own sanity, and pensively contemplating the precarious balance of calm and chaos in the tiny bubbles we all live in. I connected with this book’s magnificent, nail-biting read. It peers at pseudo-madness from the inside, and reveals all its mushy, gushy innards in full light.
“The Reason I Jump” by Naoki Higashida
Reading “The Reason I Jump” was a very interesting experience. It’s an insightful autobiography that delves into the mind of a person with autism, and a 13-year-old boy’s mind at that. Higashida does not disappoint the reader with this work; his point of view, both on his life with autism and on the subject of autism itself, is compelling. On each page a question is presented, which Higashida then answers in brief. For example, Higashida is asked, “What’s the reason you jump?” He initially answers, “When I’m jumping I feel as if my feelings are going up towards the sky,” and then proceeds to elaborate on his response. Higashida also addresses questions like, “why do people with autism talk so loudly and weirdly?” and “why don’t you make eye contact when you’re talking?” It’s a quick read, but extremely intimate. The print is an English translation of the original Japanese. Inevitably some meaning is lost in translation, but regardless of this it’s highly moving.
I did not know much about autism before I began this book, but it answered many of the questions I had about the condition, and then some. I felt as though I was looking into Higashida’s mind, even though he was explaining some things that are partially beyond my abilities of perception. My favorite aspect of the book is the candid way in which it is written. It’s short and sweet, to the point, and beautiful. Higashida comes across as a stunningly bright human being, and I feel honored to be able to read his account on life.
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