Customer Reviews

Autistic States in Children

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

IN THIS VERY IMPORTANT CONTRIBUTION the reader learns about Frances Tustin's therapeutic approach to children with autism, based on her training as a child psychotherapist in the famed Tavistock Center in London. Technically, this involves providing the child with toys that are suited to eliciting play about his or her inner world, such as small dolls, tame and wild animals, a dolls house, cars, bricks, drawing materials, and so on. The therapist carefully observes the child's play and other kinds of behaviour, as well as the emotional atmosphere between herself and the child. Based on these observations, tempered by a fair amount of intuition and experience, she makes imaginative comments about how the child appears to be experiencing the relationship with her, which is assumed to derive from his internal world and ideas about how people are likely to behave. This helps him to feel understood and accepted, and promotes growth. He can develop new ways of relating to other people, instead of remaining stuck in habitual patterns that may not be realistic or adaptive.

Children with autism do not talk or play until they are getting better, and their sensory experience can be very different from that of the rest of us. At the same time, and above all, they are people in their own right, with emotions that need a response just as other children's do. This can be difficult for their caretakers - and their therapists - because the particular way they express themselves is so often difficult to decode. Frances Tustin was anything but doctrinaire, and remained keenly interested in knowledge from any source that could help her better to empathise with the children she treated. She had a particular gift for feeling her way into an autistic child's experience, especially their bodily experience. When they recovered and began to speak, they were able to describe seemingly bizarre states, such as the feeling of losing parts of their body in the process of separation from important others. In recent years, many of her formulations have been confirmed by the first-person accounts of people with autism, such as Donna WIlliams and Temple Grandin.

Earlier in treatment, when her patients could not yet speak or play, Tustin gauged their feelings from the way they used their bodies. This approach requires the therapist to take the emotional context into account, and to judge by the child's response whether she is on the right track. For instance, children who excitedly spin around may be obliterating their awareness of being separate, or they may be trying to heighten their proprioceptive awareness of all the different parts of their body to re-confirm their existance. In Tustin's opinion, children with autism begin by relating to the therapist as a sensation-making function, rather than as a separate person; it is not until later that the infantile transference developes. The `infantile transference' is the process whereby feelings from babyhood are re-experienced vis-à-vis the therapist. Once this process is set in motion, the therapist can verbalise it, which helps the child to move on from positions he had become stuck in and to relinquish the wayward and often secretive stereotypical practices that had been getting in the way of his development and interfering with human relations.

Tustin adopted a more active technique with her autistic patients than is typical of child psychotherapy with other kinds of children: for example, she might gently hold a child's hands, and explain, `Tustin can hold the upset'. She was empathetic and compassionate, but totally unsentimental, and she thought that excessive indulgence was as bad for children with autism as for any other child. At the same time, she was keenly aware of the vulnerability that made their self-protective manoeuvres necessary, and warned against the dangers of interfering with these prematurely or clumsily. Reading the case reports of her patients - John of the black hole in his mouth, David of the suit of armour, Peter who mused on the difference between thought and sensation - is an object lesson in how a therapist can reach imaginatively into a different world and make it possible for the child to risk joining ours. Additionally, her paradigm has provided useful technical implications for work with ordinary aduls in psychotherapy who often suffer from the same elemental dreads and utilize similar protections against the awareness of such terrors in everyday life.

Tustin writes about the infantile experiences and fantasies of the child in his or her relationship to the mother. She understands autism as a response to the traumatic experience of separatenss. The child cannot tolerate the perception that he/she is not "at one" with mother's body. This perception brings with it intolerable anxiety and a sense of loss, the experience of what Tustin calls a "black hole." The child experiences separation from the mother's body as the loss of his/her own body. In order to avoid the experience of a mother that is separate from the self, the child "blocks out" the perception of the mother, drawing into a shell. It is this "shell" or refusal of the external world that constitutes the autistic response. Autism is a clinically defined form of psychopathology. However, all human beings possess autistic tendencies. We all wish we did not have to abandon our infantile fantasy of paradise.Reality shatters our dream, but it is never entirely abandoned. Each of us can bear only so much reality.

Avoid this book! Tustin again goes down that dusty trail of blaiming the parent for the child's autism, this time for the parent being too needy and clinging.

Prospective readers should be aware that this book promotes the long-discredited psychoanalytic view of autism as an emotional disturbance. Full of bizarre interpretations which have remarkably little to do with the subjective experience of autism as described in first-person accounts such as those by Temple Grandin. Interesting enough in its way, but nothing to do with autism.

Buyers beware! This book touts the long disproved belief that autism is an emotional disturbance, which is a crock. The interpretations have nothing to do with autism or the experiences of people with autism. Autism is a neurobiological condition that affects sensory processing and integration and affects communication. The condition varies among the indivuals who have it.

Although interesting, do not, repeat, do not take this as gospel. It is rife with fallacies and the holes poked into the discredited misperceptions are big enough to drive fleets of trucks through. Read scholarly first person accounts such as the books by Edgar Schneider; Marc Fleisher; Temple Grandin and Donna Williams instead.