A wonderful and heartwarming true story. The author is an established journalist, and a former music journalist, so music has always played a big part in his life. When taking his autistic son to a music festival at the age of 15, he sees a way forward - a way to make a deeper connection to him.

I found this book fascinating. Not knowing much about autism and autistic people, it gives insight into everyday struggles that are faced by the person themselves and their family. If, like me, you didn't know much about autism, after reading this book you will have a better understanding and an appreciation for the people who cope with it, and an appreciation for the oft-hidden positive sides of the condition. It will help you see autism and autistic people in a new light.

The story is told through songs, loved both by father and son.

It's a story that can be heartbreaking but in equal measure, is uplifting. A fantastic and thought-provoking read.

What an exceptional book – what an exceptional young man – what an exceptional journey.

I’m autistic myself and music has been my best friend ever since I remember. For James, it’s his food and air; he lives music and for music. There’s no better parent than a music aficionado, an ex-journalist for NME and Sounds. Music is what makes life much more than bearable; it turns it into ecstatic experiences.

At the same time, James is deeply impaired in many other ways. (The ‘high-functioning’ and ‘low-functioning’ labels prove useless again. He can play gigs on stage and be completely comfortable, but not do the groceries or deal with the sound of a lawn mower.) The book isn’t just about him and music; it’s about the parents having to learn to deal with a child very different from all the others. Yes, every child is special, it just so happens that James is more special than schools and institutions know how to handle. The legal battles necessary to get him the education and care he needs are the saddest part of the book.

Maybe I’m Amazed is also an examination of autism by someone who’s done his best to educate himself and shares the knowledge. It’s not about searching for a cure, although there is the compulsory Autistic Parents section where both John and Ginny are devastated to hear it said bluntly – there’s no cure. It’s about the search for the best life for their son. Frankly, at times I wished I had parents like those. I got diagnosed at 43. I’m nothing like James and I am a lot like James – the book also explains the concept of ‘spectrum’ and does it in an engaging, clear way.

Harris is a great believer in ABA. I didn’t feel entirely comfortable with that until he got to explaining it; apparently the way ABA is performed in the UK is extremely different from what I know (imagine withholding love and affection from your child until they do exactly as told). Maybe I’m Amazed describes nothing but positive reinforcement. I’ll stop here and let every autistic reader make their mind up.

It was a wonderful, if too short, read that made me feel like a part of the family – Rosa, James’s sister, doesn’t get much space on the pages, unless they’re performing together. It’s the father’s book about his son, sure, but as both James and Rosa keep growing up, things may change. Harris is aware of that; he dreads the future in which Rosa might be forced to become James’s caretaker. I feel so personally engaged in their lives, having read Maybe I’m Amazed, that I hope for the best, not that I know what it is.

One of the best memoirs I’ve read in years.

(5/5)

My ratings:
5* = this book changed my life
4* = very good
3* = good
2* = I should have DNFed
1* = actively hostile towards the reader*

This is the fascinating story of a music obsessed journalist, his partner Ginny, their daughter Rosa and their eldest child, James who is autistic. It’s about how they have navigated their way through James condition and found a common bond through music that allows James to be part of a world that confuses and baffles him at times to shine in his own particular way.
The book is divided into 10 chapters, each referencing a song, most of which were among my personal favourites and gives the reader an idea of the breadth of music that James listens to and how much they are woven into family life. In the introduction the author, is at a Paul McCartney concert prior to his Glastonbury appearance, and watches the effect it has on James who was 15 at the time and a huge Beatles fan.
Diagnosed when he was 3, James sees the world differently, sometime withdrawing and some times with deep joy. There is an accompanying photo of James wearing a Magical Mystery Tour t-shirt and looked every excited.
His father sees him as a:
‘a very fragile human being dependent on the kindness of others’ and that aspects of his condition:
‘will always make it near impossible for him to navigate life alone.’
The author discusses his own discovery of music when he first heard the Beatles, aged 4, and then progressed onto others. He played in a band as a teenager and after university became a music journalist. He met Ginny as they moved in similar circles, set up home and then James came along.
James’ diagnosis of autism was very depressing and bleak as they were told that:
‘our child would be hopelessly cut off from the world.’
But they were wrong as music became the dominant force in his life enabling him to become part of the world and not separate from it. And it brought the author back to music himself. As he says, music is:
‘a perfect soundtrack to life, and all its joy, sadness, tragedy and wonder.’ I recognised my own journey to music through the descriptions of his work and specific songs. Also the weekly music press such as NME which I still miss, progressing to the monthlies and ultimately the Guardian as the music business changed and contracted with the coming of the Internet. He notices James’s passion for certain types of music Captain Beefheart is a no-no but the Velvet Underground’s I’m Waiting For My Man’ is a hit.
I sympathised with the author and Ginny as they battled through assessments and therapists while feeling adrift. Meanwhile James develops a like in for Ipod Cover Art and Mott the Hoople. A friendly, helpful specialist begins to work with James and they all begin to navigate through the world, determined to get him an education and skills in language. They also learn about the different types of autism and worry about the future. They also go through a Statutory Assessment and a Statement of Special Educational Needs with the local council which is rejected, they fight it and ultimately win. But what happens to the ones that don’t?
Along the way, the nature of people who are drawn to the music business is raised. PIL’s bassist, Jah Wobble assets that the business:
‘is full of oddballs.’
Several examples are suggested such as Beethoven, Mozart, Prince and Brian Wilson
When James performs at an end of school concert with his band and is praised, the author says:
‘If you are repeatedly told that your child can’t do it, it starts to eat at you. If’ you’re not careful, life can start to feel like a long attempt to stop them being dragged into failure and bleakness.’ But performing and music is something that James can do:
‘on the same terms as everyone else.’
And so they continue at the book’s end; James discovering new songs and new artists with his father joining in.
I really enjoyed this book as it felt so positive and encouraging. It reminded me of how I feel about music and my life. Prior to reading it I knew very little about autism and what it actually meant. It definitely meant difference but I didn’t know to what extent. I sympathised greatly with their struggles with the council to grant him a statemented education but the hope for inclusion doesn’t quite materialise and the negativity with which some professionals view his condition. At one school, James learning to hang up his coat is an achievement for the staff whereas his parents wanted more for him. At times the book was a tender portrait of living with difference.
Along the way the family meet other autism sufferers, people from the music industry, and others that they meet through James. I felt that it ended on a positive note and I hoped that James would continue to have wonderful experiences.

My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for an ARC.

This is a memoir of music, autism and parenting. I thought it was a very good read, as it manages to be emotive, informative and appealing to music fans. Anyone who is autistic, or knows someone who is, will find it interesting and relatable, I am sure. The book chronicles the ups and downs of life with James, the author's son. James is gifted at remembering and playing music - his favourite bands include The Beatles, Kraftwerk and The Clash - but music is also a way of connecting with him and teaching him. The author also rediscovers his own love of music through this. The book explores what autism is and its social history, as well as the struggles today with getting support in education. I enjoyed the amount of detail in the book, although sometimes it was a little too much, such as descriptions about scrolling through playlists. There was also some distaste for certain musical genres, which is to be expected in a book by a music journalist. I was drawn to this book because of the psychedelic cover design and the title, which is a Paul McCartney song.

John Harris' Maybe I'm Amazed is a moving, entertaining and at times heart-breaking account of his experiences bringing up James, his son who has both autism and a gift for music. This gives the by now fairly standard structuring around key songs a new force as he traces his son's interest in all kinds of music from The Beatles (always) to the Clash and Funkadelic (but not Captain Beefheart, who doesn't come out the book well). At the same time, it's a powerful depiction of the crisis in support for young people with disabilities, captured in the observation that the number of children with Special Education Needs in mainstream schools fell by 25% between 2012 and 2019, while those in special schools increased by almost one-third. So much for inclusion. There are lighter touches too, such as Harris' longstanding connection with Billy Bragg resulting in the latter making a song out of James' "No more school, no more school, no more school'. I had two relatively minor issues with the book: the title, which really doesn't do it justice, and Harris' use of the present tense pretty much throughout, which gives the book immediacy but confuses the chronology at times. That aside, this is a lovely book.