Fern Brady (1) (1986–)

Scottish comedian Fern Brady always knew she was different, but her family just told her she was naughty and annoying. She got obsessed with things, blew up if she didn’t get enough alone time, and had trouble reading social cues. She was diagnosed with depression and obsessive-compulsive disorder, but that didn’t quite fit. She suggested to her doctor that she might have autism, but was brushed off because her symptoms didn’t match the common symptoms in boys and men. Eventually she show more spent some time homeless, and some time in sex work before graduating from university and finding her ideal job in comedy. It took many years and specialists for her to get properly diagnosed with autism, and the effects of being ignored for so long still linger.

A very enjoyable addition to the celebrity comedian memoir genre. Brady’s autism brings a little something extra, since she uses the book not just to tell her story but to inform the reader about autism, particularly undiagnosed autism in women. Her vulnerability and bravery in being open about a stigmatized disorder really shines, and I learned a lot. As expected, she treats her autism and her journey to getting diagnosed with a lot of humor. I particularly liked the story of her realizing she had autism because her boyfriend read a book about how to support a partner with autism and started using its suggestions on her and it worked perfectly. She’s an excellent narrator, though between her fast talking and Scottish accent, this is the first audiobook I’ve listened to on 1.0x speed in years. show less

I wasn't expecting something so hard hitting as this when I bought Fern Brady's memoir. She's one of my favourite comedians. I know she's autistic and that this book is about her life before and since her diagnosis, but I hadn't planned for such brutal honesty. It is funny at the right points, and serious at the right points, too. Harrowing at times thanks to the way women with autism have been historically misdiagnosed, partly because the social conditioning that all women in the UK labour show more under makes autistic women very skilled at masking.

Brady is the strong female character of her book's title. I learnt a lot and am glad she wrote it, and I read it. show less

I’m not sure I was supposed to be laughing most of the way through this book but she is funny, even when writing about serious things. It did get deep/dark though and I didn’t laugh the whole way through but I did smile a lot and she does tell her story in an entertaining way and most often in an amusing manner.

“I’m aware that this process was called the Liverpool Care Pathway by the NHS but for reasons outlined elsewhere in the book, I don’t do well with obfuscating language. I show more think if we called it ‘starving and dehydrating someone to death’ a lot more of us would become pro-euthanasia overnight.”

“I realized that those people who say money isn’t everything are liars.”

I figured that she would be a great stand-up comic. I looked online and watched part of a few videos of her routines and I do think she is funny. Great writing and delivery & timing.

This memoir? I loved it. I found it hilarious. I found her perspicacious honesty funny and touching too. I greatly appreciate how the author explains (at least her) autism incredibly well and that I think readers will come away with an understanding of people with autism and the behaviors they might have. I’d like to put this book into the hands of most readers, particularly doctors, therapists, teachers and others It’s a must read for parents of people diagnosed with autism and I think it will help people with autism, those diagnosed with the condition and those not yet diagnosed. I also love how she takes a good hard look at society and is a feminist.

I simultaneously read the Kindle e-book edition and the Libby audiobook edition. I love her Scottish accent. With a memoir I’ll listen (in addition to reading the words on the page or screen) only if the author is the narrator and she is for this book. show less

Autism has become a hot topic in recent years. Diagnoses have increased massively, the possible link to vaccines was raised and debunked (but persists), possible “treatments” are fiercely debated, Asperger’s has been deprecated as a label, and awareness has grown of how symptoms in girls and women usually differ from the more familiar male tropes (it’s the intensity of obsession that’s significant, not that they’re inherently niche). That’s reflected in the popularity of show more fictional protagonists who seem to be “on the spectrum”, even if it’s not explicitly stated.

Like many allistic (non-autistic) neurotypicals, I know a variety of autistic people. I have also watched documentaries by Temple Grandin, read a fair bit about autism, and think I have thought I had some understanding of how it can present and feel. This book opened my eyes far wider, especially about autistic women. Brady has a knack for explaining things in an authoritative (with footnotes to research articles) and relatable way, without ever talking down to the reader.

Parts of it are shocking, parts are funny, some of it is both. All of it is informative and compelling: I read it in a single day.

“If you’ve ever started school midway through the school year or been the new person at work and felt lost - it’s that feeling. Except you never just pick up on stuff or fall in line eventually; it’s a constant sense that everyone is in a WhatsApp group you don’t know about.”

Image: Increased risks for women and AFAB with autism: victimisation, PTSD, suicidality, depression, anxiety, and co-occurring health conditions, BUT less likely to be diagnosed than men/AMAB (Source)

Memoir

Fern Brady is a standup comedian from a working class Roman Catholic family in a small town between Glasgow and Edinburgh. I first encountered her in Series 14 of Taskmaster, in 2022. This book was published in 2023, when she was in her mid-thirties.

As a child, she was clever, bored, solitary (her best friend was a tree), and deemed bad and difficult. She first attempted suicide aged eight. At a teen mental health unit, she was told she couldn’t be autistic because she made eye contact and had a boyfriend. She eventually escaped to university:
“I didn't have to kill myself for now.”
But she didn’t fit in there either (social class became another axis of difference), though she did eventually graduate.

She abused medication and weed, self-harmed, got into debt, had episodes of homeless sofa-surfing, lots of casual sex with men and women, at least one very abusive relationship, and worked as a stripper. She describes stripping as another type of masking, and somewhat positive: routine, rules, bouncers to evict anyone problematic, it’s hard to get sacked, and the misogyny was visible and clear.

She was eventually diagnosed as autistic during Covid lockdown, and discusses some of the conditions and circumstances that are more common in autistic people, such as OCD, depression, PTSD, eating disorders, ADHD, and alexithymia (limited ability to recognise and describe emotions).

Image: Autism signs in women: camouflaging, sensory sensitivities, anxiety or depression, emotionally sensitive, people-pleasing, difficulty fitting in, mirroring others, difficulties with friendships, appears shy, stimming, intense interests, feeling misunderstood, and social difficulties (Source)

Meltdowns

“Trying to stop a meltdown feels similar to trying to hold your breath.”
Brady says this is not discussed enough, and I agree. I had no idea that meltdowns (literally smashing up her home) were an issue for high-functioning adults, let alone those, like Brady, with a successful career, a supportive partner, and with a diagnosis that finally makes sense of her place in the world. She likens them to explosive diarrhoea: she can usually postpone them until she gets home, or away from people, but not always.

Meltdowns are a consequence of ignoring sensory over-stimulation; they’re not about anger or being manipulative. Hitting herself over the head is:
“Akin to someone slapping an analogue telly that’s on the blink.”

She says arresting people having meltdowns (including children, and she cites specific cases) is like saying epilepsy is demonic.

There are also shutdowns, which are less dramatic, and just look like sulking.

Family

Brady sees her parents as driven by over-protective instincts, and a strong desire to avoid family shame. At 14, she didn’t know how to catch a bus, and shocked her mother, first by buying tampons, and later by taking the initiative to access contraception. Nevertheless, her mother nurtured her puzzling passion for books, theatre club, piano lessons, and obscure foreign languages.

In a very telling passage, she compares memories of being a flower girl at a wedding. As the family tell it, she was wearing a pretty dress, then “for no reason”, she had a meltdown (screaming and tearing her dress), “exactly like the child from The Omen”, and was taken outside and slapped. Despite being given some Chewits (candy), she wouldn’t pose for photos.
“My recollection of it is this: a group of people stopped me from playing and put me in an itchy lace dress that felt like fire ants crawling all over my skin. They then braided my hair so tightly my entire scalp felt like it was being clamped in a vice. I ran out to the garden… to try to get rid of the unbearable feeling… Someone beat me and dragged me back inside, tightly re-braiding my hair… I’d venture a guess that no one who has just experienced a meltdown is up for doing a photo shoot, with or without Chewits.”

Image: Masking tactics (hiding autistic behaviours, mimicking others' social behaviours including eye contact and gestures, and pre-preparing phrases, jokes and conversations) and possible consequences (burnout, sensory overload, emotional overload, chronic anxiety, delayed diagnosis) (Source)

Quotes

• “People would impose their friendship on me” - and often, take advantage of her credulity.

• “Every attempt to fit in resulted in me being more weird and more isolated from normal people.”

• “If you could be fluent in a foreign language then surely you could become fluent in social skills.” Or so she thought, as she searched online for tips, which she then applied over-specifically.

• “I tried and failed to be the best at masking.”
“All I felt was the suffocating horror that I was failing at being clever.”

• “Autistic women speak out of turn a lot… [with] direct honesty… [and] an almost childlike sense of injustice.”

• “Honesty is powerful but it’s not something that comes easily to allistic people because they’re so driven to fit in with others that they prize collective values over truth.” She explains it’s probably why autistic people often fail to get parole: they don’t express false regret.

• “Autistic people often require much lower doses of antidepressants than non-autistic people do. Her [Temple Grandin’s] argument is that our nervous systems are so sensitive that we need less of everything - alcohol, recreational drugs, caffeine - for it to have an impact.”

• “I believe there’s a significant number of autistic women who have sex freely because we’ve little regard for gender norms or complex social hierarchies (for example, promiscuity carries a heavy social cost as a woman) and it’s sensorily enjoyable.”

• “The dropout rate for autistic [university] students is ten times higher than for non-autistic students and it’s thought that’s because most students tend to help each other by ‘crowdsourcing’ information from their peers”, like where the lecture theatre is and how to work the washing machine.”

• “Defining yourself as the girlfriend of someone impressive was easier than working out who you were… especially if you’re a weird woman.”

• “If you’re prepared to be thin you will be rewarded with money and status… in short supply for most autistic women.”

• “I frequently had the sense that a madwoman was driving the car of my life while I sat in the back seat observing.”

Autism in fiction

In contrast to Brady’s “own voices” memoir, here are some novels that seem to have a main character who is on the spectrum, and whose authors are not, as far as I know, autistic. This is a very unscientific list, but I spot a pattern:

• Bonnie Garmus’ Lessons in Chemistry, 2022 (woman). See my 2* review HERE.

• Catherine Lacey’s Pew, 2020 (adult of ambiguous gender). See my 5* review HERE.

• Ottessa Moshfegh’s My Year of Rest and Relaxation, 2018 (woman). See my 2* review HERE.

• Gail Honeyman’s Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine, 2017 (woman).

• Sayaka Murata’s Convenience Store Woman, 2016 (woman).

• Becky Chambers’ A Closed and Common Orbit, 2016 (AI woman). See my 4* review HERE.

• David Mitchell’s Slade House, 2015 (boy). See my 3* review HERE.

• Jonas Karlsson’s Room, 2014 (man). See my 4* review HERE.

• Graeme Simsion’s The Rosie Project, 2013 (man).

• Rief Larsen’s Selected Works of TS Spivet, 2009 (boy). See my 4* review HERE.

• Maggie O'Farrell’s The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox, 2006 (girl/woman). See my 4* review HERE.

• Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, 2003 (boy). See my 5* review HERE.

• Yōko Agawa’s The Housekeeper and the Professor, 2003 (boy). See my 3* review HERE.

• Doris Lessing’s The Fifth Child, 1988 (boy). See my 4* review HERE.

• Iris Murdoch’s A Word Child, 1975 (man). See my 4* review HERE.

• Herman Melville’s Bartleby the Scrivener, 1853 (man). See my 5* review HERE.

• Nikolai Gogol's The Overcoat, 1842 (man). See my 5* review HERE. show less