“Even prisoners are considered for parole. Autism is a life sentence for those who committed no crime.” The truth is piercing in Fiacre Ryan’s debut collection of poems and prose.
“See the world through my eyes as I navigate through yours” – we learn sobering facts about Ryan’s world, where every inch of progress is contested. While he studied the Leaving Cert, “Discussions about doing my exams kept distracting me as I was preparing, sometimes causing me to regret my decision… to question the minds of people supposed to be supporting me… hating only conversations about my autism, cancelling my intellect in one phone call or email.”
Ryan’s world was transformed when he learned to communicate using the rapid prompting method. Rather than freeing his thoughts, Ryan believes the RPM letterboard tamed them. “Before I learned to communicate they were determined to wreak havoc, catapulting like a tsunami around my brain.”
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With nature things were very different, “Tears never darken my door when I am outside”, and this is where Ryan’s poems gravitate: “Understand that talk easily misses what daring thoughts are in my heart, when animals understand that it can weep…” The delightfully tactile Spring Walk, “Bark fungus looks like autumn beastly curled /Calling insects to roam in its foam.” is the second poem to reference a swan here, reflecting Yeats’s influence on Ryan.
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Here is a narrative with all the darkness and light of a fairy tale, including a real and extraordinary transformation. The ability to truly recognise someone forms the bedrock of many classical tales. Speechless is no different: “Tests are neurotypical, and I am not typical. I am unable to speak, voiceless. See me, each test takes away belief. Caution, and retest in a different way… see my autistic brain show my intelligence.”
Like all heroes, Ryan needed his helpers and he pays tribute to a family who must be as extraordinary as he is. Who couldn’t love this mother as she leaps off the page fully formed in just two lines? “Even though I went on the bus most days, Mam always supported me from her place in the bushes, since, I think, she was accused of being critical of a principal and could not go to the centre.”
