She says she learnt to “play the funny card very early on in life”, because humour is a way of letting uncomfortable truths slip into a room. When Limburg does this she thinks: “OK, you might not understand me and we might not have a conversation in which we feel connected but at least I can entertain you. Then you’ll get some worth out to me.” The book ends with a foreword dedicated to the late writer and friend Caron Freeborn, and a rich bibliography for readers who want to know more about autism and neurodiversity. While most women might occasionally fail to meet the stringent rules of femininity, the experience is much more common and painful for autistic women. In many ways, autism constitutes a failure to embody with docility the norms of femininity as, for instance, sensory sensitivity can make difficult to wear certain clothes, jewelry, or to use make-up. In social situations it can also be difficult to engage in small talk, smile and comply with the idea that women have to be warm and welcoming. Many of the women presented in this book cannot resort to the protection of benevolent sexism that the adherence to feminine norms could grant. In the foreword, Limburg underlines that she wanted to write about weirdness rather than rebellion, and that she was ‘less interested in women who chose to be difficult than [she] was in women who couldn’t help being weird’ (p.15). The author tells us about her own attempts to adhere to social norms by exercising a strict control on her way of appearing and speaking when in public. Such attempts are so extensive that she describes feeling a different person, for which she uses the acronym SGJ – Socially Gracious Joanne. It is difficult not to see in SGJ a reference to the camouflage (or masking) practices that many autistic people and especially women use to hide their autistic traits and pass for neurotypical. It is important, from a feminist perspective, to understand how and to what extent autistic masking is influenced by the strong gendered expectations imposed upon women, and what is the impact of these expectations on autistic women. Oof. What a vital read. Limburg explores autism, parenting, feminism, disability rights and society’s relationship with difference through four letters to her “weird sisters” from history. Her letter to Frau V, the (possibly autistic) mother to Fritz, one of Hans Asperger’s autistic patients, reaches far into the culture of motherhood over the past decades and I found it very affecting. I was also grateful for the nuance she brought to the topic of “autism mothers” and felt both understood and rightly challenged by her words. In this book, Joanne Limburg writes to four women in history who she calls her 'weird sisters'- women who, for a variety of reasons, were outcasted and judged- and often penalised- for their 'weird' behaviour.

Bettelheim, Bruno (1967) The Empty Fortress: Infantile Autism and the Birth of the Self. New York: Free Press. I have not read much on autism and I felt like this was a good starting point for me as it was easy to digest but was still powerful and sometimes harrowing. The authors experience of her feelings of fear, and guilt that she went through during pregnancy and after birth was really vulnerable. Through the story of Frau V, Limburg reflects on the relationship between motherhood and autism, which is encapsulated by the infamous Refrigerator Mother theory popularised by Austrian-US psychoanalyst Bruno Bettelheim (e.g. Bettelheim 1967). Bettelheim’s heavily-refuted theory, which erroneously suggested that autism results from a mother’s cold and distant attitude towards her child, had and continues to have a destructive impact on many mothers of autistic children. Further, Frau V’s similarities to her son could not be read in the same way because autism was – and in part still is – understood as a ‘male’ condition. Thus, Frau V’s story represents the ways that autistic women have historically been invisible to psychiatrists and other clinicians. Psychiatry has consistently overlooked autistic women and the intersection between autism and gender oppression, with the consequences of this invisibilisation continuing to influence women’s lives. Autism has historically been considered a predominantly male condition, with discussions of autism often revolving around its manifestations during childhood, especially in middle-class white boys. Discussing Frau V’s experience brings to the fore the difficulties of being an autistic woman, but also the difficulties of being an autistic mother. Overall, an interesting book that covered topics that I have not read about before. I would definitely recommend.Jeg tror det er sundt for mange os at høre om handicappede mennesker som vi måske ikke selv identificerer og jeg tror at dette er en god måde at starte. For selvom forfatteren ikke selv er intellektuelt handicappede så giver hun gennem hele bogen henvisninger til yderlig læsning. CW // the holocaust, eugenics, state-sanctioned murder of disabled people, suicide, bullying, miscarriage, pregnancy (Please feel free to DM me for more specifics!) I was so impressed by not only Limburg’s project for this book but the execution as well. This book was so well-conceived and so well-written, and just overall super genuine and thoughtful—I was kind of surprised to find that I actually have no notes for this one. 😆 Seriously, all six letters covered the main themes and topics associated with womanhood/femininity and neurodivergency/disability (esp. Autism) incredibly well and I thought Limburg’s treatment of the more sensitive subjects was extremely compassionate. There are things in the world that need fixing, and you cannot fix them without pointing out that they are broken; the fact that both the pointing out and the fixing makes comfortable people less comfortable is no reason not to do what you know to be right." Today she has learnt that the version of femininity she rejected is equally likely to be “studied and perfectly reproduced by some autistic girls”. This “masking” is often believed to be the reason that so many autistic girls fail to get the diagnosis that would help them understand themselves and get the support they need. Limburg doesn’t buy the theory that women are innately better at masking than boys. It’s just that, given the higher social expectations placed on girls, “heaven help us if we don’t make the effort!”.

It seemed to me that many of the moments when my autism had caused problems, or at least marked me out as different, were those moments when I had come up against some unspoken law about how a girl or a woman should be, and failed to meet it. Det faktum er at det breve gør at der bliver skrevet til dem i stedet for om dem, hvilket er forfriskende. Når disse fortælling og refleksioner kobles sammen med feminisme og handicapaktivsme, så sker der magi. Det er en stærk og kraftfuld måde at se det indre perspektiv af autisme. Letters to my werid sisters er opbygget som 4 breve fra forfatteren til 4 historiske kvinder. Det er 4 kvinder som forfatteren identificerer som “werid sisters” som blev udstød pga der unormale opførsel. My personal favourites were the letter to Virginia Woolf, Adelheid Bloch, and Katharina Kepler - although every letter is exceptional.MAIN THEMES/SUBJECTS—Autism, epistolary memoir, disability awareness, disability history, adult diagnoses, solidarity with the experiences of historical figures, intersectional feminism, patriarchal oppression & weaponized misogyny, nazis & eugenics, state-sanctioned murder, institutionalization, ableism, bullying, pregnancy & parenthood as a disabled person, social isolation, disability rights movement In Letters To My Weird Sisters: On Autism, Feminism and Motherhood, Joanne Limburg writes a series of letters to different women in history from Virginia Woolf to Katherina Kepler. In writing to these various weird women, Limburg is not saying that these women were necessarily autistic but looks at them through the lens of autism and how aspects such as their bluntness, non-conformity, and other aspects that relate to being "different" and autistic. I would recommend this book to readers who are interested in reading more about Autism, disability rights & awareness, intersectional feminism, disability & motherhood, and neurodivergent histories. This book is best read empathetically.

The biographical events of Virginia Woolf – the death of her parents, the difficult relationship with her stepbrother, her conditional acceptance of the Victorian conventions of the time – are intertwined with her literary activity. The result are new insights in the figure of the famous writer, whose personal and literary production can help analyze experiences of awkwardness and uneasiness. Limburg does not attribute any diagnosis to Virginia Woolf, but concludes the letter thanking the writer for her ability to accurately and honestly describe difficult moments of shame and embarrassment: ‘If you had not described these awkward moments and unpretty feelings, I might never have recognized my own in them’ (p. 68).That sentence you just read—it is not only part of a text, but also part of you, and part of the person who wrote it, all at the same time.” We exchange opinions on the possibility that various authors, pop stars and visual artists might be autistic. My other autistic female friends (most of whom have humanities degrees) play this speculation game on a regular basis. It’s a guilty secret. They are all, constantly, scanning the radar for pings from other weird sisters. But Limburg and I agree not to include the names of the artists we discussed in this article. “I wish this were the sort of thing one could say out loud,” shrugs Limburg. “But it isn’t. Because there is a stigma and people are seen as their own family’s property.”

In her sixth decade, Limburg reflects that “there is cultural space for outspoken older women. We still get vilified. But nobody knows what to do with you when you’re 22 and you think you have a speaking part. Being a girl is about looking cool or looking accommodating. It’s not about speech.” Because she experiences other people’s distress quite acutely, Limburg has developed a stereotypically female tendency to “smooth the room because I can’t cope with the jaggedness”. Limburg is endearing, she writes with humour, and doesn’t shy away from her own experiences. I can’t wait to read more of her books. I unsettle people. I'm uncanny. Being around me doesn't always feel like being around a fellow human being, and that discomfort rarely brings out the best in people. If you don't register someone as a fellow human being, you are less inclined to treat them like one.” There is so much to love about this book, particularly for anybody already interested in any of the subject matters explored.

Advance Praise

Astute, humane and breathtakingly true, Letters to my Weird Sisters captures the intricate truth of life on the outside. Joanne Limburg's project to find mirrors of herself across history casts so much light. I adored it."—Katherine May, author of Wintering One of the most interesting figures encountered in the book is Frau V. Little is known about her, including her true name. A 1944 article by Hans Asperger – among the first researchers of autism –mentions her as the mother of one of the boys he was treating in the University Paediatric Clinic in Vienna. Using the scarce details available, Limburg constructs a portrait of a woman who cares deeply about her child’s fate but also shares many traits with him. However, notably, Asperger did not consider the possibility of Frau V being autistic herself. PDF / EPUB File Name: Letters_to_My_Weird_Sisters_-_Joanne_Limburg.pdf, Letters_to_My_Weird_Sisters_-_Joanne_Limburg.epub In the introduction to Weird Sisters she writes: “I read about witches; I read about writers; I read about nuns, beguines and anchoresses; I read about women who had been shut up in institutions; I read about outcast girls and pathologised mothers. Sometimes I would read myself down a blind alley: anchoresses, for example, turned out to be not weird at all, but more akin to the sort of modern woman who has raised her family and decided to retrain as a counsellor.”