Escape Artists
Escape Pod => Episode Comments => Topic started by: eytanz on July 19, 2013, 08:26:48 AM
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EP405: Vestigial Girl (http://escapepod.org/2013/07/19/ep405-vestigial-girl/)
by Alex Wilson (http://alexwilson.com/writer/)
Read by Nathaniel Lee (http://www.mirrorshards.org)
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The cartoon butterflies were sleeping along the pushlight nursery wallpaper as Charlene fumbled with her cradle’s locking mechanism, using fingers too large and uncoordinated for anything so practical. She blinked away the fuzziness of the low light–clearing her eyes for less than a second–and fought against the calming scent of lavender wafting up through her mattress. She flexed the monster in her throat. She didn’t love the feeling, but would miss such control over at least this one part of her body.
She heard muffled voices in the next room, beyond the transparent gate of her cradle, beyond the sleeping butterflies. Her fathers were fighting again, and they’d forgotten to activate the night muffler to hide the sounds. This was a good thing, this night. Of course they usually didn’t check on her again after nine o’clock, but it usually wasn’t so important that she hear them coming if they did.
Six months ago, Charlene had averaged three hours, forty-four minutes to open her cradlelock on any given evening; tonight it took her only forty-seven minutes. She wasn’t ready to celebrate that her physical development might finally, slowly be catching up with that of her mind. She wasn’t sure what that meant yet. She had an idea that it wasn’t entirely good news.
Again, she flexed the monster. She was four years old, and this limited mastery of her throat was still her only material proficiency.
The lock clicked. The cradle gate swung gently open. The voices in the next room became louder and clearer.
“Calm down, Gary. There’s still hope.”
“Think you’ll still say that after we’ve been changing diapers another twenty years?”
Daddy Oliver was calling Daddy Gary by his given name. That meant he was upset. When they weren’t upset, they called each other Chum or Babe, terms of affection rather than identity. She’d figured out all this on her own, from watching, from listening, from reading. She understood that degrees of isolation and socialization weren’t the only indicators of potential, and sometimes her fathers did, too. But could observation, without interaction, adequately prepare her for life? Could she defeat the monster entirely on her own?
(http://escapepod.org/wp-images/podcast-mini4.gif) Listen to this week’s Escape Pod! (http://traffic.libsyn.com/escapepod/EP405_VestigialGirl.mp3)
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Wow. That was good. I have to admit, I have absolutely NO idea what it was she was removing from her throat (I couldn't think of anything vestigial), but listening to it was delightfully awful...
...while I was eating lunch...
...at work.
So, yeah.
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I had to create a forum account for this episode, because Vestigial Girl affected me so much. I am completely tense and have adrenaline coursing through my veins. I'm gonna need to take a walk, and give my kids big hugs when I get home.
Here's a picture of vocal cords, I think she shot that triangular piece on top of her vocal cords, that separates her food pipe and her windpipe.
www.daviddarling.info/images/vocal_cords_diagram.jpg
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Is it wrong that as soon as I saw the title, I started singing in my head:
We are living in a vestigial world and I am a ... ?
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I admit- I'm a sucker for EP stories that feature positive, loving relationships between parents and children. Because I am a huge sap. So I enjoyed this story a lot.
Still, I'm going to quibble, because that's what we do on forums, right? Wouldn't her parents have taken her to an ENT about her speech delay? I say this as the parent of a bright, healthy kid who didn't start speaking until around 30 months, after a tonsillectomy/adenoidectomy. Seems like tissue blocking her vocal cords would be easy for a doctor to diagnose (a toddler did, after all).
(I couldn't think of anything vestigial)
I thought the point of the title was that her body itself was vestigial, compared to her super-developed intellect. But maybe not.
Is it wrong that as soon as I saw the title, I started singing in my head:
We are living in a vestigial world and I am a ... ?
And I was hoping it was a Union Dues crossover...
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I liked the story, though I must admit I have NO IDEA what the thing she removed from her throat was supposed to be. I particularly liked the interaction between the parents. For me, that emotionally potent mixture of shame, frustration, blaming, support, conflict, reconciliation and love rang precisely true. I also think the author also did an exceptionally good job of depicting the protagonist's dilemma of a brilliant brain trapped in a massively unresponsive body. While I've never been in that situation, the author certainly helped me feel like I have been.
I also thought Nathaniel's narration was spot-on for the needs of the story.
I'm a little puzzled by the title. If, as Alisdair's outro suggests, the "whistlers" are the next stage in human communication or some sort of alien incursion, "vestigial" would seem like an odd description for the thing in her throat. I can't completely buy the idea that her whole body is meant to be vestigial, either. Maybe the author will weigh in and clear things up.
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Loved this story. Creepy. I cant help but think it wasn't anything and that she just tore out her tonsils. Pretty nasty, but great ending! Whatever it is she ripped out, they all bonded over it.
With Nathan as the narrator I was thinking at first this was going to be a funny story. I still have Punk Rock Voyager lodged in my head... when it wasn't funny, I thought it was a strange choice for a narrator. I still found myself waiting for some smart arse or zany comment throughout the story and when there wasn't one, I was a little disappointed. ;)
Just kidding! In any event, great pick for escapepod!
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Liked it. Thematically reminded me a lot of EP314 Movement (http://escapepod.org/2011/10/13/ep314/).
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With Nathan as the narrator I was thinking at first this was going to be a funny story. I still have Punk Rock Voyager lodged in my head... when it wasn't funny, I thought it was a strange choice for a narrator. I still found myself waiting for some smart arse or zany comment throughout the story and when there wasn't one, I was a little disappointed. ;)
She gets a couple of zingers in. Not really a laugh riot, though, it's true. :-)
But just 'cause I've only narrated Punk Voyager here doesn't mean I only do the funny ones. (Though I do gravitate toward them, admittedly.) I've done a couple of readings for the Drabblecast, too, that aren't exactly humor stories. I
'm happy to help out when I'm needed, so don't necessarily expect that it's a funny story if you hear my overly rapid, end-consonant dropping, vowel-extending voice pattering out. ;-)
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I found this story kind of hard to listen to in parts—namely, the parents’ fighting. It just felt too genuine. So, kudos to the author for making me uncomfortable with domestic tension.
I also spent a good deal of time half-convinced that the story was going to end in horrible tragedy, and there was palpable relief when everything went so right in the end.
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I guess I assumed the title meant exactly what it said -- she was a special needs child in the hands of a couple that would have had enough societal trouble with a normal child in their family dynamic. SHE is vestigial. I thought that was screamingly obvious, so now I'm doubting myself to see so many smart people having trouble with it.
Wouldn't her parents have taken her to an ENT about her speech delay? I say this as the parent of a bright, healthy kid who didn't start speaking until around 30 months, after a tonsillectomy/adenoidectomy. Seems like tissue blocking her vocal cords would be easy for a doctor to diagnose (a toddler did, after all).
I guess I assumed that she was a delayed child overall, that the inability to speak was just added onto that pile rather than being something to be diagnosed separately. I'm sure stuff like that happens all the time. The only part I find far-fetched is that if there are so many developmentally delayed kids in the world that have this same growth/cancer/whatever that she encounters others in her town, it would be nearly impossible for something like that to go undiagnosed for too long.
Incidentally, I have something that I picture to be similar to this. Obviously I've never seen it because I lack the intelligence to build my own laser tumor remover, but in the top of my left nostril there's a place where the passage takes a bend and it feels like there is a tonsil-like growth up there that can flap back and fourth depending on which way I'm breathing. The catch is, it's not inflamed all the time, so my family doctor has never seen it, and I haven't had the money yet to go see an ENT about it. So I live with this thing that is annoying and real enough that I have considered doing self surgery on it with a long pair of tweezers, but as of yet I haven't been able to convince anybody that can do anything about it that it exists. I can imagine if you added in the extra barrier of a disability on that, how frustrating that would be.
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Am I the only one that caught the part where she was genetically engineered from the DNA of her two fathers?
I assumed that the monster was a mutation of some sort that resulted from that process. What I was wondering about is whether the monster was only preventing her from speaking, or if it was also responsible for her motor control problems. Possibly there are other monsters that she hasn't discovered yet?
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Imagine my surprise the other day, as I was reading the latest issue of Writers of the Future, when I came across a story called "Vestigial Girl". I thought, Wait, didn't I just listen to this on EP? Sure enough, same story, only complete with an illustration of Charlene looking at the thing that just came out of her throat. Was it mentioned in the intro that this was a WotF winner, and I just missed it?
Anyway, I enjoyed this story. It was very unique coming from the mind of an infant, and a developmentally delayed infant at that. Reminded me of the character Bean from the Ender series. As I chugged along through this tale I was giving it a "ho-hum" rating, liking the idea, but finding it a little far fetched for an infant, even a genetically engineered one. Then I hit the last line. Fan-freaking-tastic. What a great way to end this story. I loved it.
I also enjoyed the bickering parents, reminding me of spats I've had with my spouse about our own children.
In all, a well told, well narrated, and enjoyable story.
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Am I the only one that caught the part where she was genetically engineered from the DNA of her two fathers?
I assumed that the monster was a mutation of some sort that resulted from that process. What I was wondering about is whether the monster was only preventing her from speaking, or if it was also responsible for her motor control problems. Possibly there are other monsters that she hasn't discovered yet?
You weren't the only one. I thought that was neat. Particularly in how it felt like a background detail, like in this future world that's just a thing that happens. Although it didn't sound like it was terribly commonplace.
Two things that made me go hmm about this story:
- Some of the time frames seemed a bit off to me. Did she really spend days on certain tasks? How? Lots and lots of trial and error? How did her dads not notice?
- What did she actually remove‽ I realize it's part of the strength of the story that we don't find out, but I still want to know!
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I found this to be extremely visceral and, in some places, a little too gross-out. I also didn't love how smart she was; she's four, right? Four-ish? I realize the genetic engineering probably made her MUCH smarter, but it just didn't work in some ways.
That said, I was compelled by the story, compelled to keep listening, and I rooted for Charlene throughout.
I also enjoyed the reading.
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I also didn't love how smart she was; she's four, right? Four-ish? I realize the genetic engineering probably made her MUCH smarter, but it just didn't work in some ways.
I got the impression she was 18 months.
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I also didn't love how smart she was; she's four, right? Four-ish? I realize the genetic engineering probably made her MUCH smarter, but it just didn't work in some ways.
I got the impression she was 18 months.
Her age was certainly implied to be around that order, but it was clear that her mental development was way ahead and her physical way behind. The story is of a near-adult trapped in a child's body, but with the twist of some mutation possibly related to genetic manipulation.
I can see Listener's point - the suspension of disbelief organs are working overtime to cope with that level of intelligence at so young an age. On the other hand, if she had been cast as teenage but physically stunted to 18 month then her parents' relative acceptance of the situation would have raised even more disbelief. So it's not that obvious how the story could be told differently.
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She was 4-years-old with advanced intelligence but the dexterity of an infant and no ability to speak or even make significant sound.
Again, she flexed the monster. She was four years old, and this limited mastery of her throat was still her only material proficiency.
By eighteen months–mostly from whispers and entertainment screens and books her fathers left active where she could see them–Charlene had identified a few of the big ways she wasn’t like others her age. She was smarter and could better keep her outward displays of emotion in check. But, other than her relationship to the monster and a small amount of control over the power and timing of her breath exhalations, she was well behind her peers physically, as though her inner and outer development were incapable of progressing at the same time.
“Only you could look at these test scores and take it as all bad. Look at this! Factoring out reaction times and fine motor skills, her non-verbal reasoning alone could be–”
“Suddenly off the charts? Sure. And if you also factor out the Stroop test and ability to recognize her own name, she could be MENSA? God, what’s more likely? That she’s smarter than either of us, or that the doctors are as clueless as we are?..."
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Maybe my favorite kind of science fiction story is a story that presents a totally alien situation with completely relatable, intense, emotions. (Perhaps the gold standard would be EP classic Friction (http://escapepod.org/2008/02/08/ep144-friction/)). This one is a little closer to home than most of the stories that fit that description. Still, I think we can safely call the experience of a highly intelligent child with a baby's motor and communication skills and maybe some sort of superparasite "alien." Alien or not, Charlene's experience taps a deep and intense emotional well. One chance, after so much effort, to achieve the objective of one's existence. Thinking and feeling and being unable to communicate.
The details of what's going on are sketchy and as far as I'm concerned that's great because it puts us as the listener in a pretty similar state as Charlene. We don't know any more than she does whether anything she's doing is going to help. It doesn't matter much to me what the monster is, if anything, or what happens next. What matters to me is that moment laying in the fort needing one...more...second, all the effort possibly going to be a waste, never being able to say "da." Shivers and goosebumps. A very strong story.
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A bit behind on this one, sorry...
1) I seem to be the only respondent who saw the subtext of Charlene's condition as autism. Now, I'm not saying the author is drawing specific parallels, but the condition of being trapped in your own thoughts unable to communicate certainly (IMHO) has a certain resonance.
2) the "monster" might be no more than an inconvenient evolution. I think we should take it as a actual monster with a grain of salt. I'd say that given her -admittedly improbably - hyper-evolved state, the "monster" might have served two functions, firstly, to aid in whistling, and secondly, to correct the terrible design flaw we all have, namely, using the same hole we breathe, talk, and eat through. It makes doing all three at once impossible, and two at once dangerous. If she can't speak, the likelihood that she'll choke diminishes rapidly.
Now, I know this gets into misleading ideas of evolution following a plan, which is why I'm not in love with the idea - but there it is.
Otherwise, I liked the characters and the clear pacing and plotting of the story. It was good.
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Wow, what an emotionally heavy story! Like others, I'm skeptical that the "monster" was actually something that should have been removed. Even so, I definitely choked up when she was finally able to say "da." I'm certainly hoping it all turns out okay, and that she's able to finally communicate with her dads.
Liked it. Thematically reminded me a lot of EP314 Movement (http://escapepod.org/2011/10/13/ep314/).
Spot on.
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I was at work listening to this story, writing up some reports. Then, thirty minutes later, I realized my pen hadn't moved and I had been staring at the same piece of paper through this entire story. It was engaging and well told, with a tension that made me want to fast forward to the end just to know what happens to Charlene. I didn't, but man, was I rooting for that happy ending. Although, we really have no clue as to what the end result of her surgery turned out to be. How depressing would it be if "Da" was her first and last word?
The thing I found the most interesting about Charlene how uniquely she developed. It was a strange mix of adult understanding and childish interpretations. I'd didn't really see the connection between Charlene's situation and autism, but that was just because her emotional intelligence actually seemed to be pretty high. It's a personality I've never seen before and it was charming.
I do agree, though it seems pretty far-fetched that Charlene is the first one to notice this blockage stopping normal vocal communications and the strange whistling. Also, do all cloned children end up like her and the other's in the support group? If so, why would anyone clone a child? That portion didn't make the most sense to me. Still, I was pretty willing to suspend my disbelief if just in this little story on this particular family.
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Also, do all cloned children end up like her and the other's in the support group? If so, why would anyone clone a child? That portion didn't make the most sense to me. Still, I was pretty willing to suspend my disbelief if just in this little story on this particular family.
I didn't see it so much "cloned" as "genetically engineered." Her parents were two men, so the natural way wasn't going to work out. :)
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Yeah, I'm not getting the confusion here.
She is obviously the product of a genetic mismatch of genes from both her fathers, manipulated in such a way that she is neither their child, nor their collective clone. I'm guessing that a randomizing factor for the genes was implemented to simulate what happens naturally to sperm and egg cells. The result is, of course, unpredictable. On top of that, the fathers probably said to themselves: "While we're manipulating genes, let's make her really really smart!". Of course, that also has unpredictable results.
So the end product is a super brilliant child with very little motor control and a benign cancerous growth in her larynx.
The doctors didn't spot it because in its natural position it lay flat against the vocal membranes, and appeared as standard tissue in most imaging technology (MRI, CT, etc'). Only when she learned that she can flex it did it become visible (when she flexed it) to the most obvious of diagnostic tools: the endoscope. And why didn't she flex it when she was at an ENT or something? Well, maybe she hadn't been to one since she learned that she could flex it.
I don't think that this is a call-out to autism. In general, it's not that people with autism can't communicate, it's that they don't want to communicate. The spectrum is very broad: from thinking that you are the only real person and therefore you don't need to interact with other "people", to just not understanding that other people are trying to communicate with you (and everything in between). It's not a question of can't but of won't.
Charlene clearly understood the people around her, and clearly wanted to be understood by them. More a case of a lock-in (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Locked-in_syndrome) than autism.
Now, having gotten all of that out of the way...
I really liked this story. It pulled all the right heartstrings. I felt for Charlene who just wanted to be understood and would do anything, anything to accomplish that. I felt for her fathers who really truly loved her for who she is, but also wanted to help become more than herself. I felt their frustration and guilt, and all of the complex emotions that comes with being a parent.
Well done.
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Oh, another thought.
The fact that she met this other girl who apparently had the same problems that she had, in a support group for parents and children of genetic manipulation, points to the fact that her situation is the direct result of whatever it was the scientists did, and has predictable, repeatable results.
Damn, but that's a long sentence. :P
Anyway, don't the people in charge of this thing maintain contact with their past patients? Don't they do follow-up exams and case studies? You'd think that they'd connect the dots and change their methodology of gene manipulation, or at the very least say "No, we won't do this because it has bad results."
Of course, Charlene may very well be only the second patient in the world with these symptoms and then the scientists did in fact say "No, we won't do this because it has bad results." But... I dunno.
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Oh, another thought.
The fact that she met this other girl who apparently had the same problems that she had, in a support group for parents and children of genetic manipulation, points to the fact that her situation is the direct result of whatever it was the scientists did, and has predictable, repeatable results.
Damn, but that's a long sentence. :P
Anyway, don't the people in charge of this thing maintain contact with their past patients? Don't they do follow-up exams and case studies? You'd think that they'd connect the dots and change their methodology of gene manipulation, or at the very least say "No, we won't do this because it has bad results."
Of course, Charlene may very well be only the second patient in the world with these symptoms and then the scientists did in fact say "No, we won't do this because it has bad results." But... I dunno.
I agree, but would argue that even if the doctors knew there was a chance that these symptoms might occur, they would continue to do the procedure (and of course forewarn the parents of the chances) if the percentage of incidence was low enough.
"Okay aspiring parents, we have several genetic manipulations available. This particular one is almost guaranteed to increase your child's IQ by 200%! Of course, I have to warn you that there is a 1.5% chance that your child will suffer severe disability with regard to motor function and verbal communication, but I assure you that all of MY patients have been happy and healthy."
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Anyway, don't the people in charge of this thing maintain contact with their past patients? Don't they do follow-up exams and case studies? You'd think that they'd connect the dots and change their methodology of gene manipulation, or at the very least say "No, we won't do this because it has bad results."
Maybe they have a hidden agenda....
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There's no indication that new clones are still being made; the other "whistler" is older than the protagonist. And it's not like the medical establishment never makes mistakes or misses side effects until it's too late for at least some poor folks. Thalidomide, anyone?
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I tend not to be terribly fond of the 'person with disabilities has superhuman powers in other areas' trope, but generally I liked this story very much. I found the characters very strong and the interactions between them extremely believable, and I loved how normalised the genetic splicing of same-sex parents was. One thing I struggled with was believing that Charlene had so little control over her own tongue; infants often have better control over it than most other muscles, because it's so necessary for the suck reflex. Still, if I'm going to believe that a four year old with an adult intellect but the gross motor skills of a much younger child could diagnose her own speech problems and fashion tools for self surgery, it seems like that shouldn't be the thing that causes me to trip up mentally.
Although I didn't read her inability to verbally communicate as a nod to autism, I can see why others did. Charlene's attempts to communicate - spelling words with the blocks, for example - are overlooked by her caregivers. If anything, then, it's about how those around people with disabilities can overlook their actual abilities and work-arounds because they've bought into the narrative of all that the person can't do.
I particularly enjoyed the genuine tension that I felt here, too. There were points where I genuinely believed that Charlene would not survive her ill-advised surgery efforts, and I was sufficiently invested in the story and in her as a character that I felt actually quite anxious on her behalf. This was one of my favourite recent stories.
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This reminds me of what happened to me as a child. I evidently had an extra tooth growing up into the roof of my mouth (I am otherwise normal) and was having it surgically removed at the dentist. I was knocked out with the anesthesia but woke up while they were still drilling into the roof of my mouth to remove this tooth (from what I remember it was a tooth. I don't remember ever seeing it.) I remember them reassuring me as they finished up the surgery. My dad felt really bad about what happened and bought me a train that shot ping pong balls out of the smoke stack on the way home. I figured, on balance, that made it a very good day! Lol
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Oh, another thought.
The fact that she met this other girl who apparently had the same problems that she had, in a support group for parents and children of genetic manipulation, points to the fact that her situation is the direct result of whatever it was the scientists did, and has predictable, repeatable results.
Damn, but that's a long sentence. :P
Anyway, don't the people in charge of this thing maintain contact with their past patients? Don't they do follow-up exams and case studies? You'd think that they'd connect the dots and change their methodology of gene manipulation, or at the very least say "No, we won't do this because it has bad results."
Of course, Charlene may very well be only the second patient in the world with these symptoms and then the scientists did in fact say "No, we won't do this because it has bad results." But... I dunno.
I agree, but would argue that even if the doctors knew there was a chance that these symptoms might occur, they would continue to do the procedure (and of course forewarn the parents of the chances) if the percentage of incidence was low enough.
"Okay aspiring parents, we have several genetic manipulations available. This particular one is almost guaranteed to increase your child's IQ by 200%! Of course, I have to warn you that there is a 1.5% chance that your child will suffer severe disability with regard to motor function and verbal communication, but I assure you that all of MY patients have been happy and healthy."
You know, that completely makes sense. I think the story would've benefited from just a quick blurb, stating something along these lines. Take some of the guess work away from us overthinking readers.
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On an abstract level, I thought the story was fine: small child facing obstacles, overcomes them, becomes closer to family. And I can see why some commenters hear thought the story punched hard in the emotional kidneys. But--and I realize this is just one of my biases--I am not very moved by brilliant kid stories.
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From an emotional and storytelling aspect, this story worked for me. I followed along and was interested throughout. But I did not find it plausible at all - just too many places where my disbelief was stretched beyond breaking point. She is physically limited - she can't climb or pick up large objects - and she is apparently incapable of the motor control necessary for a computer touchscreen interface. But she was somehow able to find pictures of the human vocal system? Did her parents just leave them around her room? If she could google image "vocal folds", she could also write "hello dads" on the tablet/computer.
Also, even now there are special touchscreen and computer interfaces available for children with motor disabilities. I cannot imagine that in this future there will be no special interfaces designed for people for whom normal gesture recognition doesn't work.
And how in the world did she learn to spell? Or indeed, learnt the word "tardiloquous"? You can't just pick up English words and their spelling by being intelligent - you need to be exposed to them. And I assume that her parents weren't just leaving books containing words they probably didn't know within reach in her bedroom.
Finally, and this was brought up by others here too - what happened to all the doctors/speech therapists/child psychologists in this world? Didn't anyone ever think to look down her throat? Or to figure out a means of communication that does work? Again, I know people who work with communication with severely disabled children. Even when the parents can't think of ideas, there are professionals whose job it is to try every avenue of communication. Did no one think to ask her "do you understand me? whistle if you do. Great! Now, make two short whistles followed by one longer whistle", and then you at least know that she's aware and can understand English, and at the very least, teach her to whistle in morse code or something.
Maybe, if Charlotte was unique, I could buy that her parents just couldn't afford proper care and the doctors she saw just ignored her. But if this is common enough that she could meet a second child with the same symptoms, then presumably someone studied these cases. And trust me - if there's a new speech impediment that affects even a small amount of the population, there would be doctors, researchers and others jumping at their chance of being the one to find a treatment that works - not for altruistic reasons, but that's because that is how you build your career.
So yeah, overall - a decent story as far as stories go, but seriously (in my eyes) hurt by its lack of plausibility.
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seems to me the monster is some vestigial feature brought out of her DNA by the cloning processes.
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I loved it. Gripping.
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Interesting, but I had to many suspension of disbelief issues to really immerse myself. Most of them have already been addressed in the comments before mine.
I will only add that -as a professional- it is incredibly difficult to put a endoscopic camera down some else's throat and see their vocal cords, let alone your own without anesthesia. Even with anesthesia its tricky. And that's with a functioning and coordinated neuromuscular system. So...put another one in the "unlikely" column. And where a grey membrane could hide where an ENT couldn't see it? Where is that?? There ain't nothin' grey down there.
Interesting concept, I had no difficulty figuring out that it was a weird problem with the "cloned" kids. And BTW, that technology exists. Just barely.
http://www.nature.com/news/stem-cells-egg-engineers-1.13582
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scary as hell, weird as fuck, but amazingly brilliant!!!
yes, there are a couple of things that do not add up, such as why it is taking her so long to do certain things, and why she can't communicate in certain ways if she can do other quite complex things. but somehow it didnt matter, the atmosphere itself is sufficient to make this a good story
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This is, to date, the only SF story I've ever heard that plays in my little branch of science (Speech-Language Pathology), so I always wanted to comment on it before you guys flushed me out of lurker mode.
So the end product is a super brilliant child with very little motor control and a benign cancerous growth in her larynx.
The doctors didn't spot it because in its natural position it lay flat against the vocal membranes, and appeared as standard tissue in most imaging technology (MRI, CT, etc'). Only when she learned that she can flex it did it become visible (when she flexed it) to the most obvious of diagnostic tools: the endoscope. And why didn't she flex it when she was at an ENT or something? Well, maybe she hadn't been to one since she learned that she could flex it.
That's more or less what I thought too. It's useful if you see the vocal folds in action, so check out this video (http://youtu.be/9Tlpkdq8a8c) for a visual. The little girl in this story has an extra membrane stretched directly across the opening leading to the vocal folds which probably dampens their vibration. To put it another way, think of the vocal folds as a jump rope you and a friend are wiggling, and the membrane as dropping a towel on top. Kills the vibration, and therefore kills speech.
I will only add that -as a professional- it is incredibly difficult to put a endoscopic camera down some else's throat and see their vocal cords, let alone your own without anesthesia. Even with anesthesia its tricky. And that's with a functioning and coordinated neuromuscular system. So...put another one in the "unlikely" column. And where a grey membrane could hide where an ENT couldn't see it? Where is that?? There ain't nothin' grey down there.
Not too tricky at all if you only need to look at the glottis/larynx. This is a standard examination in Speech-Language Pathology (to be fair, I'm a student, and therefore haven't performed one yet myself, but I've seen them done). Getting a camera past the glottis is definitely tricky, though. To get an idea of how close to the front of the throat we're talking, the Adam's apple (aka thyroid prominence) basically marks larynx position, and you can move it further up your throat if you want (put your hand on your throat and swallow to see what I mean).
All this aside, I can't for the life of me figure out why, in the world of this story, no one bothered to give her a thorough speech evaluation when she was language-delayed. Kids do fall through the cracks, but since there was a second girl with the same issue, seems strange to me. Still, I'm not complaining, as I wish there were more great SF of this sort involving interesting medical puzzles, and with such great characters to boot.
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Thought the story was just okay.
Best part for me was the discussion on the forums. Particularly the medical details from the professionals at the end. Very interesting!
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This story was very well done, as a father of a five-year-old, getting emotionally involved was a no-brainer, and I really like how the world is shown through the story, and without info-dumps. Now for the thing in her throat, I thought this was in fact part of whatever next step of evolution she was, and that the whistling was probably a superior kind of communication that she nevertheless chose to cut off to be able to communicate with her fathers.