Review: The Rosie Project

I recently had the pleasure of reading Graeme Simsion's The Rosie Project, the first in his fictitious trilogy about Aspie geneticist Don Tillman. This was not a book on my radar until this Austral summer when it caught my eye on the staff picks shelf at a bookstore in Canberra. As I'd entered the bookstore with the express purpose of finding presents for others, not excess baggage for myself, I limited myself to only one new friend for my collection. It was a toss up between The Rosie Project and Eleanore Oliphant is Completely Fine. In the end, the lure of a female protagonist won and Don was relegated to the back of my mind.

After returning home from my intensive summer teaching stint, I was bombarded by people asking if I'd read the Rosie books as the third in the series (The Rosie Result) was suddenly getting lots of press, particularly in my neck of the woods and in the autistic online communities. I listened to a radio interview and read some articles with Simsion, which piqued my interest and led me to add the books to my "want to read" list. I was just finishing my Anna Karenina marathon and had half a dozen other books queued up for my attention, so again Don and Rosie slipped far down on my priority list.

I then went on to write a novel of my own in three months. A feat I'd never dreamt of ever actually embarking upon, let alone completing in such a manic timeframe. This was far from full-time writing. This was writing that poured forth in the interstices between three jobs, two atypical kids, massive household management commitments, and a husband frequently travelling overseas for work. My main characters and their storyline were inspired by encounters during my summer teaching stint and an overwhelming urge to bring a female autist perspective to the world of fiction.

When I finally cracked open The Rosie Project last weekend, I was floored by the end of the first page. I immediately messaged my editor, who was just settling into round two with my manuscript after her initial glowing review, with slight reservations whether my protagonist's voice wasn't "too grating", to share my initial impression: 

'OMG, I just started reading The Rosie Project. My book sounds like a young female version…' 

They say that imitation is the finest form of flattery, but I never intended to imitate anyone. I couldn't believe how similar our first-person present-tense narration from these two very different characters who only share a very broad neurology could sound. The explosive popularity of the Rosie books gives me hope that there is actually an audience for Perfect Chemistry.

There are so many moments in The Rosie Project that read like excerpts from my own life. If I hadn't received my ASD-1/Asperger's diagnosis prior to reading this book, it would have rung very loud alarm bells that perhaps this would be something requiring further investigation. Although Don is initially far too one-dimensional for anyone, even autists, to deeply identify with, his evolution and gradual unfurling throughout the story is an incredibly familiar story.

As he began his "Wife Project", a tiny voice in my head clambered for him to 'Pick me! Pick me!!', knowing how closely I fit all his enumerated criteria and he mine. I was struck how if he were not a fictional character, we quite likely could have crossed paths in real life, inhabiting the same city and frequenting the same haunts. But our shared neurology would have precluded looking up and seeing someone so likeminded without the aid of some matchmaking tool or well-meaning friend. I realise that the point of the book was to show Don the error of his ways in thinking that love could be found simply through the correct survey, but there is definitely a part of me that found this unfair.

Finding love, or even true friendship, is exceedingly challenging for many of us on the spectrum. Unless we have the good fortune of being surrounded by genuinely compassionate, understanding, and accepting individuals who can 'get us' and forgive our foibles, we often end up very lonely. Being alone isn't the problem, but loneliness often becomes problematic when outside forces start to impose guilt and expectations that we conform to normal standards and pair off acceptably. Then our atypical social skills and inability to read others, flirt appropriately, detect subtle hints of attraction, etc become such a liability it can completely override our brains. Thinking back to these times in my life is still painful, even decades out.

One line from The Rosie Project really resonated, causing me to seize up in unison with Don, "Riding home, I was aware of a tightness in my chest… I knew that if I could not 'fit in' in a science department of a university, I could not fit in anywhere." Although I'm prone to springing a leak whenever these thoughts occur to me, unlike stalwart Don, the effect is the same. It hurts so much to write about this, it's making me ugly cry as I do so. I've given up hope of every actually fitting in anywhere, but I desperately hope I can help pave a way for a world that will be slightly more accepting of my daughter.

Onward to The Rosie Effect just as soon as it available at the library…