Born into high society on the eastern shore of Maryland, Jacquelin Gorman's family was said to "have everything." But scratch away the paint from this 1960s family portrait and you'll find the oldest son Robin, who was sent away to a mental institution because of his autism when he was 12. In 1991 Gorman mysteriously went blind for 10 months. This heartrending memoir simultaneously defines and inspires resiliency. Rather than succumbing to terror, Gorman allowed her blindness to help her recall the love and memories of her brother that she had dutifully erased so many years before. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From Library Journal
Several years ago, Gorman temporarily lost her sight as the result of optic neuritis. In this memoir she writes of having to adjust to her suddenly darkened world. She consults the appropriate specialists as they try to give her a prognosis, all the while falling with nearly every step. With the sighted world closed to her, she turns inward, remembering her years growing up in a prominent Baltimore family, the niece of Ogden Nash and the granddaughter of a renowned ophthalmologist. The focus of her reminiscences, however, is on her autistic older brother, Robin, who was institutionalized at an early age. Gorman writes with conviction, realistically conveying the shock and terror of suddenly losing her sight, especially difficult for a writer and young mother of a four-year-old; she explores the implications of sight and blindness on both the literal and figurative levels. Her poignant recollections of Robin and her family illustrate the blindness many people, even relatives, can have toward the autistic. This is a powerful book that will appeal to general audiences.?Nancy R. Ives, SUNY at Geneseo
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
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