In House Rules, Jodi Picoult explores one of the more polarizing and confounding issues facing parents today: Are childhood vaccines somehow linked to the hauntingly frequent diagnoses of autism in today’s kids? And what does our society need to do to accommodate this growing group of people who communicate differently, if at all?

Jacob Hunt looks like any other teenager, but once he starts talking it becomes clear that he’s not, as parents of children with autism often say, “neurotypical.” Dismal at understanding the social cues that guide human interaction, he doesn’t understand why kids at his high school don’t want to hear about his vast, gory knowledge of forensic science. He’s highly sensitive to unexpected situations, the sound of crumpling paper and the color orange. He’s mystified when local cops don’t appreciate him showing up at crime scenes (his mom gave him a police scanner as a well-meaning but misguided birthday gift) to point out all the clues they’ve missed. Jacob’s diagnosis of Asperger’s Syndrome—and his involvement in local crimes—has made his family outcasts in their own small New England town.

 “I just don’t get the social hints that other people do,” Jacob says. “So if I’m talking to someone in class and he says, ‘Man, is it one o’clock already?’ I look at the clock and tell him that yes, it is one o’clock already, when in reality he is trying to find a polite way to get away from me. I don’t understand why people never say what they mean.” Jacob’s only friend is his social skills tutor, Jess, a student at the local college. But when Jess turns up dead, all clues point to Jacob. Even his mother, who has devoted her life to every therapy and supplement that can improve Jacob’s quality of life, is left wondering whether her son is capable of snapping.

Picoult is at her razor-sharp best with House Rules. It’s both a tender look at the depths of a mother’s love and a searing examination of how we treat those who are different, and whether we expect them to play by the same rules. 

Amy Scribner writes from Olympia, Washington.

Copyright 2010 BookPage Reviews.

In life some things are never to be broken—especially if you are an autistic child who takes "everything" literally. For example, some things that can't be broken are the house rules: tell the truth, brush your teeth, and, most important, take care of your brother; he's the only one you've got. In this 18th novel from Picoult (My Sister's Keeper), Jacob Hunt is a teenager with Asperger's syndrome and a morbid fascination with forensic science. He can recite all the intricacies of fingerprint analysis and recall the episode and number of his favorite TV crime show, but he can't feel your pain or emotions. For emotional intelligence Jacob has a tutor—until the tutor is found murdered. When Jacob is questioned, the same hallmark signs of his Asperger's that made him quirky also make him look very guilty—even to those who love him. VERDICT Picoult has many fans, and they won't be disappointed here. She is the master of telling a story that at first glance seems predictable but seldom is.—Marike Zemke, Commerce Twp. Community Lib., MI

Perennial bestseller Picoult (Handle with Care) has a rough time in this Picoult-esque blend of medical and courtroom drama that lacks her usual storytelling finesse. Eighteen-year old Jacob Hunt has Asperger's syndrome, and his devoted single mother, Emma, has built their family's life around Jacob's needs, sacrificing her career to act as his caregiver and all but ignoring a younger son, Theo. But when Jacob is accused of murder, that carefully crafted life comes apart, and all of the hallmarks of Jacob's diagnosis begin to make him look guilty. Emma hires a young attorney whose attachment to Jacob brings him close to the family as he struggles to mount a defense for Jacob, whose inability to read social cues makes him less than an ideal client. While Picoult's research is impeccable and she deals intelligently with charged questions about autism and Asperger's, the whodunit is stretched sitcom-thin and handled poorly, with characters withholding information from the reader throughout. Picoult's writing, line by line, is as smooth as ever, and she does a great job of getting into Jacob's head, but the wobbly plotting is a massive detriment. (Mar.)