Lauren C. Magee
Disability and Literature Final
Professor Foss
5/2/19
Claiming the Transformative in Retrospective Diagnosis
Ill-informed neurotypical analysis of the autistic mind and body has been the unfortunate standard for practically all of the modern era. Centuries of abuse and pain have naturally followed, manifesting in scale from the eugenics movement to common microaggressions today, such as the practice of speaking to an autistic person’s caregiver instead of the autistic person themselves. Misconceptions surrounding autistic people’s expression are unfortunately common. The message is the same: the neurotypical lens is the correct one to view autistic forms through, and autistics cannot be trusted to control their own narrative. This has led to movements such as the slogan “Nothing About Us Without Us,” increasingly widespread autistic self-advocacy, and a portion of the disability rights movement as well. In the introduction of her book Autistic Disturbances, Julia Miele Rodas uses a section to examine one of these neurotypical analyses, specifically through the concept of “retrospective diagnosis.” Rodas makes the well-informed point that in reading fictional or historical characters as autistic, the concept can quickly become an unfortunate game of sorts that seeks to further divide autism from the imaginary normal. However, in her examination of retrospective diagnosis, the author missteps in only considering the angle of neurotypical analysis, and not the possibility of transformative representation.
While Rodas’ original point is correct, it should not be used to limit the potential of autistic empowerment and creativity that results from an autistic person’s reading of otherwise “normal” characters. She uses the concept in the first place to discuss the messy history of autistic diagnosis. Diagnosis as a list of categorizations has been around since the first iteration of the DSM. The book itself has also been constantly updated to change our modern standards of what a person’s disorder should entail. As Rodas also states, narrowing the definition of autism to one unquestionable set of rules is nearly impossible, and further, is in some ways problematic. Examples can include the complex social norms that dictate the labels of “high-functioning” and “low-functioning,” and the subsequent challenges to them. The allure of fitting autism into a box only further separates the community by questioning other’s validity and concepts of personal identity—essentially, who is “really” autistic. But recent attempts have been made to queer the narrative, removing gatekeeping when it is needless. Surrounding this, as a cultural phenomenon (and when done by and for autistic persons) retrospective diagnosis can become a function of empowerment. It is important to state the difference in the readings of fictional versus historical characters, however. Retrospectively diagnosing a once-living person introduces more subtle questions of morality and agency that a text-focused fictional character simply does not have. As such, to clarify the intended message, only readings of the fictional are discussed.
Rodas discusses retrospective diagnosis as a performance of sorts to find an imaginary autistic baseline. Taken in the context of an autistic person looking for the self, however, the connotation changes. Now more than ever in media we see calls for more frequent and accurate representations of diversity that reflect the real world. The narrative of identifying with or being empowered by a character is increasingly spotlighted at all levels of our entertainment culture. And we are living now in an age of transformative works—instead of an author’s word being taken as final law, we are increasingly encouraged to reflect more critically on the text, even re-writing or changing certain aspects of it. At the more extreme end of reading a character as “self” is the notion of tongue-in-cheek declaring a character with a minority you yourself represent, regardless of solid textual proof. This simply because the personal connection to the story finds this type of interpretation comforting. After all, who gets to decide which interpreted traits are autistic expressions? Rodas references Sherlock Holmes, one of the most popular figures commonly interpreted as autistic. When a list is made of theoretical evidence to attempt to find the autistic traits of the character (cold, socially inadept, savant) Autistic Disturbances is right to call out the fall into stereotype. Yet when interpreted by autistic person, the goal becomes not to claim false diversity but to celebrate the connection to self. As in, a neurodivergent reader who suffers from generalized anxiety disorder might pick up a character’s nervous tendencies and read them as having GAD to further establish the joy of having a hero reflected in themselves. The same can be said of autistic readings, and intersectionally: the gay reader might want to find representation in a homosocial relationship, the non-white reader might interpret a never-stated appearance as close to their own. Culturally diverse consumers of media have long been surviving on scraps. To purposefully seek out representation instead of waiting for change cannot be compared with neurotypical analysis of stereotypes.
Furthermore, establishing such beloved, well-known characters as autistic shifts the frame of comfortable normalcy in a dominant neurotypical culture. Autism by the general population is still misunderstood, demonized, and often seen as uncomfortable to interact with. By pushing a reading of popular characters as autistic and otherwise neurodivergent, the perspective changes. The question becomes not why but why not? and encourages discussion. Neurotypical readers are nudged into becoming proximate with an otherwise distant idea, and proximity to divergency results in acceptance: common ground becomes recognized. In addition, the more of this that there is, the more aspects of autism are explored in fiction. Standard cultural figures purposely written as autistic such as the “Rain Man” can now be understood as single pieces in a larger tapestry of identities falling under the same label. Rodas includes a section from Sonya Freeman Loftis discussing how public perception of a character can in itself contribute to dominant stereotypes, as the character is then used as the standard for interactions with actual autistic individuals. This is upheld only in a society that allows for just a few popular representations of autism in the first place. Allowing autistic interpretation to, within reason, blur the lines of this standard boosts representation and deconstructs the idea of the imaginary normal.
At the heart of the matter, the disability rights movement is one in a long series of conversations on how the minority can be accepted by the majority. The neurotypical analysis of retrospective diagnosis offers assimilation to the dominant culture, and therefore it is rightfully distrusted by scholars such as Julia Miele Rodas. It seeks to unearth the “abnormal” traits of a character and prescribe autism to them, othering further an already marginalized community. But the autistic analysis of retrospective diagnosis brings revolution, rejecting assimilation. It shows that transformative interpretation helps the definition of autism stand alongside other social constructs. It is either our many facets of human identity exist together in equality, or slowly some identities will be forcibly pressed into the mold of the larger ones. Anything that disrupts the latter narrative should be seen as legitimate.
Works Referenced
Rodas, Julia Miele. “Introduction,” Autistic Disturbances. 2018. PDF File.
Word Count: 1144
Pledge: “I hereby declare upon my word of honor that I have neither given nor received unauthorized help on this work.” -Lauren C. Magee
