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A review by karaayers
The Country of the Blind: A Memoir at the End of Sight by Andrew Leland
5.0
The Country of the Blind: A Memoir at the End of Sight invites readers along Andrew Leland's journey in becoming blind, which he memorably describes is notably different than "going blind". Andrew is a husband, father, and media professional who immerses himself in the study of blindness for his own personal growth and preparation as well as ours. Even as someone relatively familiar with disability history, I was reminded how siloed our communities can be by my almost total lack of knowledge around much of the historical stories Andrew shares about ancient stories of blindness, its changing meanings in society but also the pervasive stigma of fear and vulnerability that perpetuates ableism.
My favorite parts of this memoir were probably predictably given my interests, Andrew's reflections on fatherhood and blindness. Ironically, I could picture he and his son working out these shared challenges-like how to describe the talons of a bird in flight-or sharing a tender moment, his young son's head on his chest-which served as both a loving gesture and a practical way to keep our children closer than arm's reach.
Leland demonstrated bravery and vulnerability in sharing his evolving relationship with his wife Lily. As someone partnered with my disabled husband for 20+ years, it was painful to think about my significant other demonstrating what I viewed as ableism in some of Leland's descriptions of Lily's statements or actions. She, too, likely demonstrated courage in this openness to sharing. I actually teach about our need to allow others time, space, and knowledge needed to unlearn ableism. So I understand this intellectually but felt for Andrew in what it must feel like when home was not a sanctuary from judgement or maybe more accurately a lack of understanding.
This is one of those books I want to thank the author for writing. I especially loved the commentary about the history of the National Federation of the Blind and other organizations, all of which bring their own brands of drama. These perspectives inform my work in disability policy. So while they weren't as heartwarming as reflections on parenthood, I benefited from them nonetheless.
Anyone who enjoys memoirs would like this book. Disability scholars should read it, especially those steeped in work mostly focused on physical or developmental disabilities. I'd welcome another book by Leland and if he's short on ideas, here are a few areas I wanted to hear more from him: 1) Even more on technology and how the blind community is involved in the innovations that often impact all of us 2) more on guide dogs and their complex relationships with their people 3) the experience of blindness in childhood-while I know this isn't the experience of Leland, I know he'd do justice to writing about it by sharing the stories of others.
A full five stars from me!
My favorite parts of this memoir were probably predictably given my interests, Andrew's reflections on fatherhood and blindness. Ironically, I could picture he and his son working out these shared challenges-like how to describe the talons of a bird in flight-or sharing a tender moment, his young son's head on his chest-which served as both a loving gesture and a practical way to keep our children closer than arm's reach.
Leland demonstrated bravery and vulnerability in sharing his evolving relationship with his wife Lily. As someone partnered with my disabled husband for 20+ years, it was painful to think about my significant other demonstrating what I viewed as ableism in some of Leland's descriptions of Lily's statements or actions. She, too, likely demonstrated courage in this openness to sharing. I actually teach about our need to allow others time, space, and knowledge needed to unlearn ableism. So I understand this intellectually but felt for Andrew in what it must feel like when home was not a sanctuary from judgement or maybe more accurately a lack of understanding.
This is one of those books I want to thank the author for writing. I especially loved the commentary about the history of the National Federation of the Blind and other organizations, all of which bring their own brands of drama. These perspectives inform my work in disability policy. So while they weren't as heartwarming as reflections on parenthood, I benefited from them nonetheless.
Anyone who enjoys memoirs would like this book. Disability scholars should read it, especially those steeped in work mostly focused on physical or developmental disabilities. I'd welcome another book by Leland and if he's short on ideas, here are a few areas I wanted to hear more from him: 1) Even more on technology and how the blind community is involved in the innovations that often impact all of us 2) more on guide dogs and their complex relationships with their people 3) the experience of blindness in childhood-while I know this isn't the experience of Leland, I know he'd do justice to writing about it by sharing the stories of others.
A full five stars from me!