Reviewed by Julia V. Betancourt
Ona Gritz’s novel,The Space You Left Behind, is filled with captivating poetry that authentically encapsulates adolescent feelings of first love and self-image. The main character, Cara, has Cerebral Palsy. Over the course of the novel, she embarks on a journey of self-discovery as a disabled teenager, coming of age in a world where the only other person with any disability is the librarian, Alice, whose wheelchair use (and missing legs) seem entirely foreign to her. Parallel to this—and perhaps more importantly—is Cara’s crush, Josh’s, interest in Cara’s family history; more specifically, the sperm-donor biological father Cara has never really needed to know about. While Cara does not necessarily desire connection with her biological father, she does seek connection with a romantic interest, like Josh, and is hesitant to scare him away.
Cara’s search for connection spans the entire novel, and the places in which she searches, including the wrong places, will feel familiar to teenagers, especially disabled teenagers learning to navigate their disability identity. Gritz, in Cara’s voice, writes, “That way I’ll know/I’m more normal/than not” (p. 16). The breaking of thoughts into poetry is immensely evocative of a teenage voice and reflections, fragmented and being pieced together as thoughts evolve.
Told through a series of short poems, none of them extending more than a page, this novel is reminiscent of A Time to Dance by Padma Venkatraman, another young adult novel in verse with strong disability representation and a grounded sense of setting.
The poetry in Gritz’s novel, both lyric and beautifully written, is simultaneously evocative of the intensity of teenage emotions and reflections. From the first pages, the poetry manages to encapsulate the character’s strong voice. A favorite passage of mine is found early on:
THE FRIEND ZONE
That’s where guys
move me
once they know
I have
cerebral palsy (p. 3)
The elements of mystery in this story drive the plot forward with a steady pacing that will resonate with readers and help to continue their engagement and connection to these very real, very natural emotions. Throughout the novel, readers will get to understand Cara’s relationship to herself and her growing understanding of what it means to be disabled.
The community connections to disability stand out as particularly memorable and authentic, especially as they connect to Cara’s growing relationship with her own disabled body and to her experience with cerebral palsy and how it impacts her life as seen through Cara’s discussions with her friends, family, and other members of her community. For Cara’s family in particular, this connection is close in a way that, while uncommon for most teenagers, feels accurate to the character’s experience.
Despite the excellent writing and strong voice the final plot twist feels unconvincing and forced. Perhaps the writing in these passages was employed as a way to “shock” the reader. Regardless, I would have preferred if the author had addressed the trauma of the event in a way that feels more realistic—particularly since the book as a whole is deeply authentic. While this event, occurring at the climax of the novel, makes logical sense, I cannot help but note the dissension between the actions of the characters and the likely actions of human beings with that same lived experience. The story itself would have benefited from a more plausible and sensitive view on this climactic event, rather than a dramatic retelling of this trauma.
The Space You Left Behind by Ona Gritz has a strong voice that will connect well with young adult readers and engage them in a narrative of coming into oneself with poetry that is certainly to be remembered.
Title: The Space You Left Behind
Author: Ona Gritz
Publisher: West 44 Books
Year: 2024
Read a review of Ona Gritz’s book, Everywhere I Look: A Memoir, and Ona’s review of My Withered Legs and Other Essays by Sandra Gail Lambert in this issue of Wordgathering.
Back to Top of Page | Back to Book Reviews | Back to Volume 18, Issue 1 – Summer 2024
About the Reviewer
Julia Betancourt (she/her) is a multiply disabled author and activist. Her writing has appeared in The Manifest-Station, The Mighty, ReadWorks, Immigrantly, and The Columbia Spectator, among other publications. Julia graduated from Barnard College of Columbia University with a BA in English/Creative Writing. During her tenure as Alumnae Class of 2021 President, she established the first Barnard Alumnae with Disabilities Reunion Reception. In 2022, she received her MSEd from CUNY City College, where she helped found the Alliance for Disability Inclusion to increase access for all people with disabilities on campus. She was named to Diversability’s 2023 Disability Impact List for her activism.