★★★★
Reuben and Manni Coe’s memoir is a love story about a bond between brothers, challenged by the appalling care service in the U.K. Whilst the book illustrates (both figuratively and literally) the trauma of siblings fighting to reconnect after the pandemic, it is much more a hymn and celebration of brotherly love that is as vivid, life-affirming and warming as a cup of hot milk and honey.
Reuben was in his late thirties when his older brother Manni broke him out of a care home, the ten months he spent there robbed him of his personality; the trauma of disconnection and lack of care from staff meant that a lifetime of adventure and fun between the two now felt remote.
The memoir follows Manni’s attempts to reconnect with Reuben and help him through, what can only be described as, a complete breakdown.
Reuben’s voice is clear, colourful and loving. He describes a thoughtful life interwoven with allusions to Tolkien and C.S Lewis; the imagery of Frodo and Sam, the loving benevolence of Aslan. His main preoccupations are shown through illustrations that return to imagery of the heart, either broken or full; Reuben’s love for his brother, his love of wanting to connect, be friends and to ‘make the world emotional’.
Manni’s narrative conveys a history of what it’s like to be a brother, but also a carer for Reuben. You feel Manni’s intentions are to represent himself, not his brother, of course he can’t help lauding Reuben’s accomplishments, but he never speaks for Reuben, as so many ‘disability memoirs’ tend to, that awful cliché of the sibling making their family member’s disability all about them, is lightyears away here. It is a testament to Manni that his goal is to actually make Reuben as independent (and happy) as possible, to follow his wishes rather than shape them.
What is revealed through the book is that our care system is beyond broken, yet with a society rooted in ableism, it is just as impossible for families to be the sole carers of family members who are (or might become) disabled. So there is a set of choices where, even families as loving as Reuben’s, have to take risks on his behalf, even with the best will in the world.
Above all else, Reuben regained his voice through the writing and publication of this memoir; It shows his love and care for his brother. The pride he takes in being gay, his love of cinema and literature – it’s a captivating and perfect exercise in self-expression.
brother. do. you. love. me. by Manni and Reuben Cole is published by Canongate books and is available in book shops now.
This review is written by someone who has experience of disability, but does not have Down’s Syndrome, we welcome and seek reviews from people who have lived experience to better reflect our communities work, please get in touch if you would like to write your own review.
