A review by gschwabauer
Anybody Here Seen Frenchie? by Leslie Connor
emotional
hopeful
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
2.25
So . . . this was a book about neurological differences. And at first it was, in my opinion, better than most. Aurora and Frenchie seem like actual friends. She doesn't perform PERFECT GENEROUS AFFECTION all the time, and he doesn't have a cutesy "I only act neurotypical around this one special friend!" thing going on, which is one of the most ugh traits of books about autistic characters. Aurora struggles with social interaction, and that extends to Frenchie, too. Frenchie clearly cares about Aurora, but that doesn't mean he likes eye contact or hugs. I loved the idea of pairing a nonspeaking child with a child who struggles with blurting things out too much--it's a great way to show that neurodivergence can take many forms, and friendship isn't some favor that the privileged bestow upon the overlooked.
The core of the book is their friendship, which I believed in and enjoyed. The main character's POV was engrossing and both Aurora and Frenchie felt like developed human beings. I loved all the scenes of their families intertwining over time and sharing traditions. The shopping scene made me laugh out loud. And it was so good to see a girl be "too loud" and have to simultaneously work on listening skills while also accepting that her personality is okay, and not everybody has to like her.
Where this book falls flat is the random side characters. Way too many short POV chapters from the rest of the town as the search for Frenchie takes place. Normally that'd just be a matter of personal taste, but in a book about an autistic child, it smacked of "awww, look: this sweet silent boy has captured the hearts of many!" There were several throwaway scenes where people feeling sympathy for Frenchie or doing him favors without even knowing him were portrayed as gestures of genuine kindness and not as patronizing and bizarre. The thrift store owner who sells him a purse at half price even when his mom is willing and able to pay full price, clearly just because he appears to have a disability. The OTHER store owner who gives him a bird print for free (which, okay, at least that one he wouldn't have had otherwise) but then later tells Aurora she felt "a special connection" to Frenchie?????? Like no, you're not entitled to project any kind of intimacy onto this child just because you told yourself a little story about how heroic you are for giving an autistic child an image of a bird. But no, we have to validate her and make sure she knows that yes, they do have a connection! A bond! Because she decided they do!
Aurora keeps noting how kids at school and adults in town suddenly seem to care about him when they ignored him or talked down to him before he went missing. A great point, but never truly addressed, because the narrative keeps contradicting itself. Felt like Aurora had to realize that actually, the bless-his-heart sudden concern WAS worthwhile and she needed to be less judgy, because all middle-grade books about disabilities or neurodivergence have to reassure able-bodied and neurotypical people at all times. It's telling that the author's note talks so much about all her research, but only ever mentions interviewing parents and siblings of autistic people, nothing about autistic input. Hmm.
(Also, didn't love the vastly oversimplified adoption stuff that got tossed in.)
There were some really clever and touching moments, particularly with the barn-poem. And thank God, it at least didn't end like Wonder. I wish this story had been a little more complex. But I will say: Frenchie felt like someone who would make an enjoyable friend. He felt like someone whose company I would seek out. He did not feel, to me, like a project for demonstrating one's commitment to inclusivity. So props for that, at least.
The core of the book is their friendship, which I believed in and enjoyed. The main character's POV was engrossing and both Aurora and Frenchie felt like developed human beings. I loved all the scenes of their families intertwining over time and sharing traditions. The shopping scene made me laugh out loud. And it was so good to see a girl be "too loud" and have to simultaneously work on listening skills while also accepting that her personality is okay, and not everybody has to like her.
Where this book falls flat is the random side characters. Way too many short POV chapters from the rest of the town as the search for Frenchie takes place. Normally that'd just be a matter of personal taste, but in a book about an autistic child, it smacked of "awww, look: this sweet silent boy has captured the hearts of many!" There were several throwaway scenes where people feeling sympathy for Frenchie or doing him favors without even knowing him were portrayed as gestures of genuine kindness and not as patronizing and bizarre. The thrift store owner who sells him a purse at half price even when his mom is willing and able to pay full price, clearly just because he appears to have a disability. The OTHER store owner who gives him a bird print for free (which, okay, at least that one he wouldn't have had otherwise) but then later tells Aurora she felt "a special connection" to Frenchie?????? Like no, you're not entitled to project any kind of intimacy onto this child just because you told yourself a little story about how heroic you are for giving an autistic child an image of a bird. But no, we have to validate her and make sure she knows that yes, they do have a connection! A bond! Because she decided they do!
Aurora keeps noting how kids at school and adults in town suddenly seem to care about him when they ignored him or talked down to him before he went missing. A great point, but never truly addressed, because the narrative keeps contradicting itself. Felt like Aurora had to realize that actually, the bless-his-heart sudden concern WAS worthwhile and she needed to be less judgy, because all middle-grade books about disabilities or neurodivergence have to reassure able-bodied and neurotypical people at all times. It's telling that the author's note talks so much about all her research, but only ever mentions interviewing parents and siblings of autistic people, nothing about autistic input. Hmm.
(Also, didn't love the vastly oversimplified adoption stuff that got tossed in.)
There were some really clever and touching moments, particularly with the barn-poem. And thank God, it at least didn't end like Wonder. I wish this story had been a little more complex. But I will say: Frenchie felt like someone who would make an enjoyable friend. He felt like someone whose company I would seek out. He did not feel, to me, like a project for demonstrating one's commitment to inclusivity. So props for that, at least.