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A review by bioniclib
El Deafo by Cece Bell
5.0
Even though I got my hearing-aids in the 2000s and not the 1970s and even though I got them when I was closer to 24 than 4, there were so many YES! EXACTLY! Moments in this book for me. Here are two.
Like Cece I struggle being between worlds. I’m not part of the Deaf world because I can hear and I’m not part of the hearing world because even with hearing-aids there’s still so much I can’t hear. My hearing loss is hereditary and my late grandfather used to always say learning sign-language wasn’t something he was interested in because it’s only useful around folks who also know ASL. Perhaps this is why I’ve not yet become fluent. Though, I don’t have the disdain for ASL that Cece shows in her brief foray into the language.
But perhaps where I most empathize with Cece is the frustration that so many people think hearing loss is just a volume thing. While I do run into volume-only issues working in a library, I have more problems understanding what was said. TV shows and even some people sound like the parents in Peanuts. It’s been years since I’ve been able to watch TV without closed captions. I also rely on lip-reading. While not officially educated in reading lips like El Deafo, I’ve taught myself to make up for my lack of hearing by watching lips closely. So whenever people are speaking away from or behind me, I have oodles of problems.
I really enjoyed this graphic novel. It was awesome to read about what it was like to have hearing aids in the 1970s and 80s. Cece’s story is at times funny and at times sad, without ever venturing too far into either realm. I was really pleased to see this book on the high school summer reading list in Wilmington (Mass) two years in a row. I often feel that it’s not socially acceptable to be deaf. I’ve not seen someone get mad, I mean really mad, at someone for not seeing something. But I have first hand experience with someone getting mad at my not hearing something. The more people know about hearing loss the sooner we can rid ourselves of such horrid behavior. This book will speed up that process.
Like Cece I struggle being between worlds. I’m not part of the Deaf world because I can hear and I’m not part of the hearing world because even with hearing-aids there’s still so much I can’t hear. My hearing loss is hereditary and my late grandfather used to always say learning sign-language wasn’t something he was interested in because it’s only useful around folks who also know ASL. Perhaps this is why I’ve not yet become fluent. Though, I don’t have the disdain for ASL that Cece shows in her brief foray into the language.
But perhaps where I most empathize with Cece is the frustration that so many people think hearing loss is just a volume thing. While I do run into volume-only issues working in a library, I have more problems understanding what was said. TV shows and even some people sound like the parents in Peanuts. It’s been years since I’ve been able to watch TV without closed captions. I also rely on lip-reading. While not officially educated in reading lips like El Deafo, I’ve taught myself to make up for my lack of hearing by watching lips closely. So whenever people are speaking away from or behind me, I have oodles of problems.
I really enjoyed this graphic novel. It was awesome to read about what it was like to have hearing aids in the 1970s and 80s. Cece’s story is at times funny and at times sad, without ever venturing too far into either realm. I was really pleased to see this book on the high school summer reading list in Wilmington (Mass) two years in a row. I often feel that it’s not socially acceptable to be deaf. I’ve not seen someone get mad, I mean really mad, at someone for not seeing something. But I have first hand experience with someone getting mad at my not hearing something. The more people know about hearing loss the sooner we can rid ourselves of such horrid behavior. This book will speed up that process.