Sf Signal post: A Blind Man’s Journey Through Hell
My beautiful and talented wife was asked to contribute a guest essay at SF SIGNAL:
Some choice quotes to whet your curiosity:
[GUEST POST] Special Needs in Strange Worlds: L. Jagi Lamplighter on Meditations on a Blind Man’s Journey Through Hell
When I was preparing to write this article, I discussed the idea with a few folks who are sight-impaired. The comment that most stuck with me came from Day Al-Mohamed, co-author of the charming Baba Ali and the Clockwork Djinn. She made quite a few insightful observations, but the one that struck me was: “I am not your metaphor.”
[…]
As a writer and a reader, I am not against the use of blindness, or anything, as metaphor if it fits the story. Nor am I against blindness going hand and hand with inner vision. And yet, I felt Day had a point. At least occasionally, it would be nice to have a blind character who simply happened to be blind, the way other folk happen to be lame, or deaf, or have a bad heart or unusually short, or even red-haired, or freckled.
Metaphors and spiritual gifts are not the only difficulties blind characters face. Kody Keplinger is a YA author who also happens to be blind. Participating in a blog called Disabilities in KidLit, she wrote on the subject of blind characters in stories for children:
“The characters are either completely ruled by their disability – physically and emotionally – constantly breaking down about the struggles they face, fearing the outside world, struggling to adapt, etc. Or, they don’t seem fazed at all. In fact, you might never know they were blind because they are independent and fearless and nothing – NOTHING – holds them back. … Presenting disabled characters as weak or fragile is problematic and unrealistic when the vast majority of us live full, happy lives. But the second option, the disabled person who isn’t even fazed, that’s not honest either.”
Her observations made sense to me. On one hand, any character fails to be a real character if they only have one quality—such as a disability. On the other hand, if a character is not affected at all by a particular characteristic, then it might as well not be there. Why bring it up?
[…]
As I worked on the Prospero’s Daughter series, a question arose: Was it realistic to take a blind man to Hell? Would it push the reader’s credulity too far? What if the reader responded: Oh come on, a blind person couldn’t really do all that, right?
After some contemplation, I thought: Well, is it realistic to take anyone to Hell?