Book Review: Narrating the Many Autisms: Identity, Agency, Mattering

Robert Manzo reviews Anna Stenning’s latest publication Narrating the Many Autisms, exploring its position within critical autism studies.

Telling Stories About Who We Are

“Identity narratives” are a central theme in Anna Stenning’s Narrating the Many Autisms. These are the stories we individually construct, tell, and retell about who we are. Through these stories, even if only implicitly and indirectly, we establish what counts as being human and what it means to have a rich, meaningful subjective experience of the world. Stenning argues that Autistic people’s “narrative agency,” “understood here as their presumed capacity and authority to make sense of themselves in relation to others through time,” has been inhibited for a long time by pathologizing “master narratives” about Autism (Stenning, p. 2).

Book cover displaying the text Narrating the Many Autisms: Identity, Agency, Mattering, Anna Stenning in large, black typeface on a white banner horizontally through the middle of the image, with the space above and below filled with a light green and blue checkered pattern created with brush strokes.
Figure 1: Book Cover of Narrating the Many Autisms: Identity, Agency, Mattering by Anna Stenning (2024). Image Credit: Routledge

Master narratives cast Autistic people as faulty interpreters of experience who are improperly oriented to social and material worlds. In contrast, autistic-authored ‘counterstories’, according to Stenning, are reliable accounts of a different but no less valid orientation. She finds that—in contrast to the modern Western ideal of a “human self” that is defined by language-use and anthropocentric consciousness- Autistics tend to be equally, if not more, attuned to non-linguistic, sensory experiences and to an ecological context of which humankind is only a part (Stenning, p. 2). Thus, Autistic identity narratives reveal a unique conception of self, one that finds little recognition or legitimacy in a prevailing politics and culture that roots its conception of self in a linguistic/symbolic capacity and a predominantly human-oriented consciousness.

Image of coloured circles of light in blue, yellow, red, green and pink layered over each other on black background
Figure 2: Image of colourful lights, Unsplash, Bozhin Karaivanov

An equally important key concept in the book is “sensory subjectivity” (Stenning, p. 3).  Describing “a sensory orientation to the world,” the term “provides a more inclusive framework from which to consider ‘lived experience’ than symbolic, structural or neurological models [of subjectivity]” (Stenning p. 3; p. 9). With this vocabulary, across five chapters Stenning explores “the moral texture of Autistic lives” as told in counterstories, thus affirming Autistics’ narrative agency, bringing into focus their sensory subjectivities, and, finally, arguing for the value of the contributions to shared social and political worlds that Autistics already make and could yet make, in the future, should they be afforded greater recognition of their personhood (Stenning, p .viii; p. 1; p. 9).

Self, Agency, and Recognition of Personhood

Book cover, with the title of the text The Secret Life of Black Aspie, Anand Prahlad in black bold typeface in the centre of the cover on a beige background. The rest of the cover is made of a collage of multi-coloured drawings of flowers, icebergs and a large image of a child in a pink top and blue jeans looking at the camera.
Figure 3: Book cover of The Secret Life of Black Aspie by Anand Prahlad, 2017, University of Alaska Press

Chapter One considers how Autistic people, as subjects and agents in the world, are widely misrecognized or not recognized at all, due to the modern, Western understanding of “selves” as primarily “symbolic, structural, or neurological” subjects. Such an understanding devalues experiences of the body that are not reducible to brain-centered descriptions. Conversely, it overvalues human symbolic capacities above “iconic and indexical modes of association and interaction” which for many Autistics are stronger (Stenning, p. 2). If “the prevailing cultural conditions for our appearance in the shared world” require symbolic communication and a brain-based self-conception, then Autistic people will struggle to be perceived by others; they will struggle to attain what “the political philosopher Sarah Lucus calls “ontological agency”: “confidence that one will appear in the world and be recognized by others as a unique being” (Stenning, p. 45).

Without such basic recognition, Stenning argues, one can hardly go on to achieve narrative or political agency, since identity-construction (through narratives) and political participation (through political systems) both depend on recognition by others. As an example, Stenning refers to Anand Prahlad’s 2017 book The Secret Life of a Black Aspie, in which Prahlad describes how other people struggle to reconcile different aspects of his identity. He cannot be open about who he is, as “his interactions are shaped by narratives about race, which constrain his ability to disclose his Autism. Autism is associated with childhood, whiteness and tragedy (Stenning). Since he can ‘hold a job’, he is further barred from disclosing his Autism even in white spaces where he might otherwise be able to” (Stenning, p. 28). To be adult, employed, black, Autistic, and not living out a “tragedy” is hardly conceivable in a culture where “master narratives” (about race, age, Autism, et.c) render such a combination unimaginable.

Master Narratives and Counterstories

Colour photograph of two children in a wood lifting brown branches up into a fort. The smaller child in the middle of the image is wearing a blue coat with a blue hat, standing underneath the pointed roof of the stick fort, with a taller child on the right of the image dressed in a green coat and red trousers carrying a stick to add to the fort, with woodland in the background.
Figure 4: Two children making a fort together from branches, Unsplash, Markus Spiske

In Chapter Three, Stenning characterizes Autistic-authored narratives as “counterstories” (i.e., counter to master narratives), and, in a validation of sensory subjectivity, she intends to “argue that narrative expressions of sensory experiences may serve as the basis of new forms of interpersonal relations” (Stenning, p. 93). While master narratives fault Autistic people for being apparently averse or unable to socialize with others, counterstories show that Autistic people do try to facilitate “shared worlds” and “mutual recognition” but through “locating, sharing, and reproducing rhythms and patterns within the flow of sensory experiences” rather than through language and symbolism (Stenning, p. 97). This, then, is a way of socializing, of participating in “shared worlds” that is not based in symbolism and abstract concepts.

Relating to Life Beyond the Human

Image of a goldfinch on a brown tree branch with light green leaves and a light blue sky in the background. The goldfinch is a small garden bird with a brown body with a white and black face, with a black tail and a white face with a short white beak.
Figure 5: Goldfinch, Unsplash,
Rowell Heria

In Chapter Four, Stenning goes beyond talking about non-normative forms of sociality between humans, and she addresses Autistic people’s relations with “the non-human world” and a wider ecological context (Stenning, p. 134). Drawing on the work of anthropologist Eduardo Kohn, Stenning argues that a “sensory subjectivity” is attuned to “forms of relation are semiotic but not necessarily symbolic,” such as the forms of relation commonly found among non-human animals as well as plants, where “[i]ndexical and iconic communication can produce… feelings of connection, but it is not a connection that is ultimately within the control of the human” (Stenning, p. 135; p. 43). Autistic narrator Chris Packham, for example, shows incredible communicational competence and “mutual recognition” of another when, in a memory from his childhood, he notices a bird in the garden and “creates a sonic icon of the bird’s call by whistling” and “recognize[s] an iconic similarity between his own exploration of the garden environment and the bird’s activities” (Stenning, p. 144).

By culturally over-valuing the symbolic, we devalue and sometimes fail to perceive the modes of communication to which sensory subjectivities are more attuned. Ultimately, Stenning suggests that, on the one hand, we should not overly identify “humanity” with symbolic capacities alone and that, on the other hand, we should not seek to assert or reify a deep divide between human and other forms of life. Autistics tend to embrace the other-than-symbolic and the other-than-human in a way that is actually exemplary, developing to a high degree the sense of relationality that it is possible for all humans to cultivate.

Mutual Recognition, World-Building, and an Inclusive Politics

“[a] practice of collaborating and sharing resources, labor, and knowledge to support the well-being of individuals, communities, and environments. … This contrasts with… the assumption that cooperation can only occur through hierarchical forms of governance and state intervention, based on abstract symbolic roles” (Stenning, p. 163-164).

Based on her readings of counterstories, Stenning finds that Autistics are rarely motivated to take up “symbolic roles” within social groups, corporations, or political organizations. Instead, Autistics tend to perform well within horizontal structures in which direct sharing is encouraged, rather than indirect information-sharing through vertical rank structures. The challenge, then, for workplaces, governments, and communities that want to truly include—and benefit from the talents of—Autistic people is to transition from vertical to horizontal organizational structures and from valuing “symbolic roles” to valuing unique contributions.

The Bigger Picture: A Movement Toward Alternatives to Pathologization

Narrating the Many Autisms is a reflective, careful investigation of Autism, identity, and humanity, one that draws primarily on the fields of critical psychology and anthropology. Additionally, in its elaboration of “sensory subjectivity” as a framework for understanding lived experience, the book reminded me of Susan Buck-Morss’s 1992 article “Aesthetics and Anaesthetics.” There, Buck-Morss conceptualizes the brain as “not an isolable anatomical body, but part of a system that passes through the person and her or his (culturally specific, historically transient) environment,” forming a “sensory circuit” inclusive of body and environment (Buck-Morss, p. 12). For both Buck-Morss and Stenning, subjectivity is profoundly sensory, rather than only/primarily symbolic, in its constitution. The surface of the body—the skin and other sensory-receptor organs—is not subordinate or peripheral to the brain in constituting subjectivity. Buck-Morss suggests that in modern (post-)industrial societies, with their harsh, anaesthetizing human-built environments, humans have come to disavow their bodies’ location within the sensory circuit, preferring instead to define humanity and personhood in terms of abstract cognition alone. When regarded in historical context, then, perhaps one distinction of Autistic subjectivity is its resistance to modern anaestheticization.

Overall, Stenning’s book is an original contribution to an emerging Autistic-authored literature that advances non-pathologizing models for interpreting Autism. Within this emerging historical shift, perhaps Stenning’s strongest contribution is her positive politics: her belief in a society in which sensory subjectivities are recognized and duly considered in our shared, political decision-making processes. Scholars and service providers interested in constructive alternatives to the medical model of difference/disability would improve their practice immensely by absorbing and building on the analyses in Stenning’s book.

Image of a hand stretched out with an open pam with a lack background, with the palm of the hand, fingers and wrist illuminated by the light from a projector that is scattering colours onto the background and the hand.
Figure 6: Colourful light shining on a person’s hand, Unsplash, Vinicius Amano

About the Author

Robert Manzo (he/him/his) is an Autistic PhD student and aspiring Disability Studies researcher based in the School of Information and Library Science at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill. In the course of his doctoral career, he has written several unpublished essays on Autism, subjectivity, and knowledge production.  In the past two years, he has focused on developing and teaching (twice so far) an original graduate-level course on Critical Disability Studies. His other interests include music composition, short story writing, hermeneutical theory, and literary history (particularly Mikhail Bakhtin and, unrelatedly, the 1910s-20s literary group that included Katherine Mansfield and D.H. Lawrence). He has not yet figured out how social media works, despite being in his thirties, but he can be contacted at rorobe15@email.unc.edu.

References

Buck-Morss, Susan. “Aesthetics and Anesthetics: Walter Benjamin’s Artwork Essay Reconsidered.” October 62 (1992): 3-41.

Prahlad, Anand (2017). The Secret Life of a Black Aspie. University of Chicago Press.

Stenning, Anna. Narrating the Many Autisms: Identity, Agency, Mattering. New York: Routledge, 2024. Stenning’s text is open access and can be read for free via the Routledge website.

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