Songs of the Gorilla Nation: My Journey Through Autism

I was spellbound by Songs of the Gorilla Nation, a beautifully written memoir of a young woman who has Asperger's Syndrome, a mild form of autism. Although she has difficulty communicating and interacting in person, she is a remarkably eloquent writer, and is able to describe and provide profound insight into the thought processes and experiences of people who have the syndrome. She describes her syndrome as a sensory filter malfunction (interestingly enough, many people with Autism and Asperger's have asthma and terrible allergies, which can be seen as other types of 'filter' disorders). For her, to experience the world is to drown in synesthetic sensory overload. Overwhelmed, unable to process the tidal wave of stimuli, she escapes the painful barrage through obsessive compulsive behavior, repetitive actions, and solipsism. As a child she was unable to connect normally with other people and was incapable of picking up on normal social cues. Although not cognitively or verbally delayed, she was socially helpless. Blunt, inadvertantly rude, and always "different,' she was a vulnerable target for vicious schoolmates and even teachers. She suffered greatly as a tormented, confused social outcast. Completely alienated, she dropped out of school at 16 and was moved to Seattle and became homeless, eating out of garbage cans to survive. She eventually became an exotic dancer, and with her first paycheck visted the Seattle zoo because she had always found solace in animals. There she discovers an almost mystical connection with the gorillas, and for the first time experiences empathy and connection with another primate. Adept at shutting her senses off, she is able to focus her brain like a laser, and with a formidable singlemindedness observed and learned everything she could about them. Through studying their social interactions, and from the relationships she develops with the gorillas, she learns how to interact with humans. She credits the gorillas with "civilizing" her, and forms deep, communicative relationships with some of them. She becomes involved with the zoo and eventually is able to earn her PhD in Interdisciplinary Anthropology, form a relationship with a significant other, have a child, and become an activist for gorillas. Now she works to bridge the worlds between ape and human as well as autistic and normal people. Although she can "pass" now as a normal person, there are still some things about human society that counfound her, although I can certainly see why. "It is hard to express the horror I feel when I am out at a parade or carnival (already a sensory nightmare) and I see a clown coming. The garish colors of an exaggerated smile, the electric daggers that are rainbow wigs, the oversized hands and feet: all of these make me want to run at top speed for the nearest exit. If I can't get away, I sometimes feel like I want to attack the clown." Amen, sister. Amen.

This is a memoir about being autistic and learning to accept and even revel in the uniqueness of being autistic. Autism, in a sense, is a different strategy. It may be, in its "milder" forms, as that experienced by Dawn Prince-Hughes, who writes so beautifully well, an attempt to adapt to an ancient environment in which social abilities are not as valuable as some other talents. Many autistics would be more at home in the jungle or in woodlands or on the savannas of Africa than non-autistic people. Their ability to concentrate and to sense things acutely would serve them well. And any lack in social skill would not matter. At least that is my impression after reading this wonderful book by a woman who "went forward by going backwards"--backwards, that is, "into the most primal and ancient part of myself." She had this experience with her "first and best friends, a family of captive gorillas, people of an ancient nation." On the other hand, the autistic spectrum of disorders may represent imperfect ways of dealing with the world and with others. Usually autistic people are at a disadvantage, especially socially and vocationally, because other people find their behavior inappropriate and unfeeling. Dawn's behavior seemed at times cold and withdrawn and without proper affect. She had to force herself to make eye contact with people and to remind herself to engage in the social niceties. The curious thing about this is that autistics may actually feel things more strongly than the rest of us. The lack of social grace that many autistics display does not mean they are incapable of feeling or that their feelings of love and empathy are less than that of "normal" people. Clearly we can see in this memoir that Dawn has always been a deeply caring person with a great capacity for love. The problem for some autistics is that they feel things too deeply. Many autistics have senses that are so acute that everyday interactions with other people overwhelm them emotionally. Satchel Paige famously said that "the social ramble ain't restful." He was, in understatement, expressing what Dawn has always felt. As a child Dawn could repeat conversations verbatim and had a "vast repertoire of commercial jingles" which she would sing. She loved repetition and symmetry, and later as an adult learned from her gorilla friends "the value and beauty of ritual." She had sensory addictions, as she calls them, to various sights and sounds and tactile sensations. She craved salt and would eat it straight from the shaker; and she would suck on burnt matchheads and "craved Alka-Seltzer for its taste and feel." She loved to smell her grandparents' car and her grandmother's purse. She felt a sense of calm and security in the presence of familiar things. Away from the familiar, she became frightened and insecure. She liked to hide in caves and other places away from people and from the "chaos of noise" all about her. After a horrendous childhood in which sh

If you want to read a piece of fiction by someone who doesn't have Asperger's Syndrome, by all means, read "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time." But if you want to learn how a person travels from earliest memories of being different to the coping skills gleaned from a lifetime of educating yourself, you must read Prince-Hughes' book. Dawn's journey is at once painful and joyous, with vignettes that even people who are not on the autism spectrum can relate to. The fact that Dawn's best teacher was a gorilla man named Congo goes to show that if you don't make judgments about other beings, your eyes will witness a world beyond your limited human prejudices. Through the lessons from Congo and his gorilla family, Dawn has created and nurtured her own human family. Not an easy feat for any of us, but even more impressive for a woman who was "socialized" by gorillas. If I could rate this higher than 5 stars, I would. An absolute gem!

There is a quote from George Eliot's Middlemarch, which for me really sums up this book: "If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence." When I read that, I realized that is how Dawn Prince Hughes has lived her entire life. Reading this book shows you what it is like to live with autism, Asperger's Syndrome in particular, and tells the story of how Dawn learned to cope, and even be happy, by observing a family of gorillas. If you are interested in the way the human brain works, and in the relationships between humans and animals, and about love and how it can save us all, you will truly love this book. To top it all off, Prince Hughes writes like a poet, and the immediacy of her prose makes reading this book a truly unique and special experience. Can't recommend this highly enough.

This book is fascinating, moving and very informative for anybody who is interested in autism and in animals. Since I am both, I enjoyed it immensely. It's comparable with Temple Grandin's 'Thinking in Pictures' with whom Dawn Prince-Hughes shares many deep insights and experiences. She writes beautifully, and her experiences are worth contemplating because they are far reaching and important. Reading this book strengthened my conviction that many people with autism have insights that could benefit us all, and deserve to be listened to carefully, and with great respect. This book is a must for everybody remotely interested in autism or primates, but I should wish it to reach as many readers, especially anthropologists! as possible.