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'Fiona Murphy’s exquisitely written memoir about being deaf is a revelatory exploation of disability, of secrets, and learning how to survive.
Secrets are heavy, burdensome things. Imagine carrying a secret that if exposed could jeopardise your chances of securing a job, and make you a social outcast. Fiona Murphy kept her deafness a secret for over twenty-five years.
'But then, desperate to hold onto a career she’d worked hard to pursue, she tried hearing aids. Shocked by how the world sounded, she vowed never to wear them again. After an accident to her hand, she discovered that sign language could change her life, and that deaf culture could be part of her identity. Just as Fiona thought she was beginning to truly accept her body, she was diagnosed with a rare condition that causes the bones of the ears to harden. She was steadily losing her residual hearing. The news left her reeling.
'Blending memoir with observations on the healthcare industry, The Shape of Sound is a story about the corrosive power of secrets, stigma and shame, and how deaf experiences and disability are shaped by economics, social policy, medicine and societal expectations.' (Publication summary)
Publication Details of Only Known VersionEarliest 2 Known Versions of
Works about this Work
-
Listen Deep to Subterranean Kinfrastructures
2023
single work
criticism
— Appears in: Swamphen : A Journal of Cultural Ecology , no. 9 2023; -
What I Wish I’d Known About: Studying Creative Writing
2022
single work
essay
— Appears in: Kill Your Darlings [Online] , June 2022; -
The Gift
2021
single work
review
— Appears in: Sydney Review of Books , May 2021;
— Review of The Shape of Sound 2021 single work autobiography '‘The body is a disjointed poem of mixed metaphors and similes,’ writes Deaf author Fiona Murphy in the prelude to her memoir, The Shape of Sound. ‘The spinal cord lashes out in a wild tangle – cauda equina – the horse’s tail. Blood flows through the heart’s atrium, the communal space in ancient Roman houses where the hearth burned hot and bright.’ Meanwhile the ear ‘cradles the smallest bones in the human body – the malleus, incus and stapes – all three can sit together on your fingertip like a speck of dust.’ Their common names – hammer, anvil and stirrup – follow their shapes. When vibrated by sound, they ‘beat and thump the eardrum. In stillness their story continues, nevertheless.’ In her attention to the names of body parts, Murphy draws on her training as a physiotherapist. It is an introduction to her careful attention to the ways that bodies – and particularly her Deaf body – navigate the world, and manifest in the English language.' (Introduction) -
Fiona Murphy, The Shape of Sound
2021
single work
review
— Appears in: The Saturday Paper , 1-7 May 2021;
— Review of The Shape of Sound 2021 single work autobiography'“The shape of sound” is not just a metaphor. Sound is literally shapely. It’s physical, forceful; it can be overwhelming. Fiona Murphy’s debut memoir reminds us that while the “prevailing assumption is that deaf people hear nothing ... I feel sound rolling over my skin. I see it shimmer off other faces. I taste it in my mouth. Sometimes, it is all too much.”' (Introduction)
-
Out of the Shadows : A Memoir of Hearing Loss and Identity
2021
single work
review
— Appears in: Australian Book Review , April no. 430 2021; (p. 24-25)
— Review of The Shape of Sound 2021 single work autobiography'More than twenty-five years ago, I wrote an essay on the work of Oliver Sacks (Island Magazine, Autumn 1993). Entitled ‘Anthropologist of Mind’, it ranged across several of Sacks’s books; but it was Seeing Voices, published in 1989, that was the main impetus for the essay. In Seeing Voices, Sacks explored American deaf communities, past and present. He exposed the stringent and often punishing attempts to ‘normalise’ deaf people by forcing them to communicate orally, and he simultaneously deplored the denigration and widespread outlawing of sign language. Drawing on the work of Erving Goffman, Sacks showed how deaf people were stigmatised and marginalised from mainstream culture, and he revealed, contrary to prevailing opinion in the hearing world, the richness and complexities of American Sign Language.' (Introduction)
-
Out of the Shadows : A Memoir of Hearing Loss and Identity
2021
single work
review
— Appears in: Australian Book Review , April no. 430 2021; (p. 24-25)
— Review of The Shape of Sound 2021 single work autobiography'More than twenty-five years ago, I wrote an essay on the work of Oliver Sacks (Island Magazine, Autumn 1993). Entitled ‘Anthropologist of Mind’, it ranged across several of Sacks’s books; but it was Seeing Voices, published in 1989, that was the main impetus for the essay. In Seeing Voices, Sacks explored American deaf communities, past and present. He exposed the stringent and often punishing attempts to ‘normalise’ deaf people by forcing them to communicate orally, and he simultaneously deplored the denigration and widespread outlawing of sign language. Drawing on the work of Erving Goffman, Sacks showed how deaf people were stigmatised and marginalised from mainstream culture, and he revealed, contrary to prevailing opinion in the hearing world, the richness and complexities of American Sign Language.' (Introduction)
-
Fiona Murphy, The Shape of Sound
2021
single work
review
— Appears in: The Saturday Paper , 1-7 May 2021;
— Review of The Shape of Sound 2021 single work autobiography'“The shape of sound” is not just a metaphor. Sound is literally shapely. It’s physical, forceful; it can be overwhelming. Fiona Murphy’s debut memoir reminds us that while the “prevailing assumption is that deaf people hear nothing ... I feel sound rolling over my skin. I see it shimmer off other faces. I taste it in my mouth. Sometimes, it is all too much.”' (Introduction)
-
The Gift
2021
single work
review
— Appears in: Sydney Review of Books , May 2021;
— Review of The Shape of Sound 2021 single work autobiography '‘The body is a disjointed poem of mixed metaphors and similes,’ writes Deaf author Fiona Murphy in the prelude to her memoir, The Shape of Sound. ‘The spinal cord lashes out in a wild tangle – cauda equina – the horse’s tail. Blood flows through the heart’s atrium, the communal space in ancient Roman houses where the hearth burned hot and bright.’ Meanwhile the ear ‘cradles the smallest bones in the human body – the malleus, incus and stapes – all three can sit together on your fingertip like a speck of dust.’ Their common names – hammer, anvil and stirrup – follow their shapes. When vibrated by sound, they ‘beat and thump the eardrum. In stillness their story continues, nevertheless.’ In her attention to the names of body parts, Murphy draws on her training as a physiotherapist. It is an introduction to her careful attention to the ways that bodies – and particularly her Deaf body – navigate the world, and manifest in the English language.' (Introduction) -
What I Wish I’d Known About: Studying Creative Writing
2022
single work
essay
— Appears in: Kill Your Darlings [Online] , June 2022; -
Listen Deep to Subterranean Kinfrastructures
2023
single work
criticism
— Appears in: Swamphen : A Journal of Cultural Ecology , no. 9 2023;
Awards
- 2022 longlisted Australian Book Industry Awards (ABIA) — Small Publishers' Adult Book of the Year
- 2022 longlisted APA Book Design Awards — Best Designed Non Fiction Book designed by W. H. Chong.
- 2022 highly commended Victorian Premier's Literary Awards — Award for Non-Fiction