A heartbreaking yet deeply hopeful memoir about life as a twin in the face of autism.
When Allen Shawn and his twin sister, Mary, were two, Mary began exhibiting signs of what would be diagnosed many years later as autism. Understanding Mary and making her life a happy one appeared to be impossible for the Shawns. At the age of eight, with almost no warning, her parents sent Mary to a residential treatment center. She never lived at home again.
Fifty years later, as he probed the sources of his anxieties in Wish I Could Be There , Shawn realized that his fate was inextricably linked to his sister's, and that their natures were far from being different.
Twin highlights the difficulties American families coping with autism faced in the 1950s. Shawn also examines the secrets and family dramas as his father, William, became editor of The New Yorker. Twin reconstructs a parallel narrative for the two siblings, who experienced such divergent fates yet shared talents and proclivities. Wrenching, honest, understated, and poetic, Twin is at heart about the mystery of being inextricably bonded to someone who can never be truly understood.
I was expecting a memoir about both Allen Shawn and his twin, Mary. Instead, while Mary is there in the shadows, this is all about the author. The construct that the absence of his twin affected everything he did in his life did not ring true.
I was really hoping that Mary's story would be told but I still don't feel that I know her. That does seem to be the author's point - that he doesn't know her and because of her autism, no one knows Mary but Mary.
I came away feeling very fortunate that my daughter was born in this millennium instead of in the post-World War II era as Mary was. Options for families were very limited and therapies were few and untested. Even though the cause(s) of autism are still unknown and most treatments have not received clinical research, today there is hope for kids on the spectrum, particularly those who are higher functioning.
I rarely put a book down, but I cannot finish this one. I feel like it was marketed as this memoir about a man and has autistic twin sister, but seems to be more about the man and how he interprets every single event as somehow subconsciously relating to his sister. It seemed quite tedious to me and after about 135 pages, I have decided to give it up and move on. I did find the beginning parts related to the family and his sister's diagnosis interesting, but then it just focused on his steps through life and all of these big stretches to link his actions to his twin sister.
If only the book had matched its excerpt, this would have been an absorbing read. However, the author is so focused on himself and his every mood and thought, that I found it very tedious. Mr. Shawn's attempt to link his past thoughts, actions and moods somehow to his absent twin is unconvincing. This is yet another memoir of an individual who has been psychoanalyzed for years. These books seem to take on a romantic tone, the author being entranced with the drama of his tortured self.
I did enjoy reading about his actor brother, Wallace, and their famous and remarkable father, William Shawn and his double life
Shawn has a probably autistic twin sister, who was institutionalized at the age of 8, in the 1950s. She has lived in institutions (nice private ones, not state-run) ever since.
Per the book flap: "Twin reconstructs a parallel narrative for the two siblings, who experienced such divergent fates yet shared talents and proclivities."
Um, no.
"Twin highlights the difficulties American families coping with autism faced in the 1950s"
Um, not so much.
Shawn in a successful composer and professor, with a lot of phobias. (He is very talented and has studied with important people! Be impressed! There is a lot of name dropping. His brother is also very successful! And his dad was very important!) In this book, he basically blames all of his phobias, fears, and problems on the fact that his parents institutionalized his twin sister Mary. He has only realized this recently--he "never thought about it" before. So much of the book is him writing things he doesn't remember thinking about at the time. Really. So, he is describing things as he thinks he felt then, though he has no memory of actually feeling that way, but he must have. YAWN.
Aside from the incessant name-dropping and the interpreting-of-memories-he-doesn't-remember, there is the discussion of how embarrassing it was to ride in a limo to visit his sister, because it made him seem rich. Um, you and your brother both went to boarding school, and your sister was in a private institution. You were rich. And then there are the descriptions of his father--editor of The New Yorker. Important. Always at work. Phobic. And with another family on the side.
Yes, he blames his phobias on sister's being institutionalized, yet then drops that his father began suffering from phobias at the age of 6. Maybe it's....genetic?! Maybe his dad's being largely absent due to "work"--when there was actually another family that Shawn's mother knew about, and then that the sons knew of--caused more of his issues.
I could go on about the overall poor organization of the book. But I don't want to. I want to put this out of my mind forever!
Knowing that Allen Shawn was going to give a talk about this book I read the first one "Wish I Could Be There" first.
I read half of "Twin" before the reading on Jan 20 and the rest in the next couple of days.
These are compelling memoirs of being a twin, having that twin - or any sibling for that matter, with a serious mental disability - autism with mental retardation in this case -and the effects of these circumstances on family dynamics and the memoirist's psyche. The fact that Shawn's father was William Shawn, the long-time legendary editor of The New Yorker, his brother the actor and playwright Wally Shawn, and Allen himself is a composer and musician heightens the interest.
A Shawn is a thoughtful and introspective writer. The first book is about phobias and this one about being a twin, keeping his relation to his sister, and what kind of disability she has. So in both books, interwoven with the Shawn's experience, is a good deal of discussion about what "experts" know and don't know about phobias and about autism.
I enjoyed both books very much for their personal and family insights and Shawn's efforts to come to terms with his life and his family on many levels.
The author had very little contact with his sister beyond early childhood, so most of what he writes are guesses and inferences from clinical notes and his brief times with her. In the end, what is mysterious and unknowable remains mysterious and unknown. The book delves pretty deeply into the author's world of musical genius, which didn't really interest me, and frankly, didn't seem to have much to do with his twin (although he tries to draw some parallels that come across as weak to me).
Book 3 of this year was “Twin”, by Allen Shawn, who just happens to be Wallace Shawn’s younger brother. It’s about his twin sister who was institutionalized as a child due to her developmental disabilities, and his belief that all of his own mental health issues stem from the suddenness of his twin’s disappearance from his life.
It’s a fantastic story, and full of a lot of information (some outdated info about Autism, which they think his sister has on top of her developmental issues) but the further I got into it and the more he covered his father’s own mental health issues, the more I started seeing it as grasping at straws rather than a legit theory. The entire family seems to have their fair share of anxieties, phobias and other issues. I’m not convinced Allen wouldn’t have dealt with his anxiety or agoraphobia whether or not his sister was institutionalized when they were 8.
Thoughtful and surprisingly touching. Works if you’re in the mood for something that’s kind of a cross between memoir and pure nonfiction, almost literary journalism.
In place of Mary herself, I carried a feeling inside me that there was a crucial aspect of my life that I couldn’t remember or name. - 151
A book in equal parts about Shawn's twinsip with his autistic sister and his own, seperate experiences as he grew up and into his roles as composer and father in her absence. He writes, "In Mary's and my case, twinship was a story of profound togetherness followed by ever-widening degrees of seperation". This is the story of the Shawn family and their personnal experiences with Mary, as well as a story of autism itself, and a deeply personnal and truthful memoir of the author. This is a complex story with complex cause and effect. Shawn shares his own crippling phobias and begins to relate them to his relationship with Mary. The comment is made that Mary might be "the happiest Shawn", and also that Mary, "passes her time rather than enjoys it". I found the author's mother to be an exceptionally touching character, full of love and affection, but also apprehension and anxiety, and living at a time when autism was a profound mystery. This is an important story in that it not only allows us a personnal look at a woman with autism, but she is also a twin, and the story is told from that twin's own unique perspecitive. I enjoyed it very much.
I thought this was fascinating, particularly the part about the author's eccentric, obsessive father, the editor of the New Yorker. Also a very moving account of having a twin sister with autism, who is removed from the family at the age of 8, and all the implications that might have. But, as with a lot of non-fiction, it was a bit circular, making the same arguments over and over. Perhaps, as a jazz-inspired composer, he liked to use standard motifs which he could improvise upon. His family's array of neuroses and phobias was quite striking. I felt as though I learned a bit about the history of autism treatment and diagnosis too - apparently it was once classified as a form of schizophrenia!
Moderately interesting; about a man whose twin sister was institutionalized when they were 8. He seems to find symbolism in ideas and things that barely warrant it, but he is convinced by his argument so it is somewhat interesting to follow his thread. His sister is autistic but because she was born in the 40's did not receive treatment like that of today. Her diagnosis, too, is unclear because of the more limited knowledge about mental processes of that time. The author spends a lot of time applying today's science to yesterday's experience.
A memoir that looks at his life as the twin of a girl with autism. The book starts from his birth and slowly moves through his life chronologically. It moves around in topic from his phobias to his family to his sister to music and back again, but it has a cohesive wholeness about it. Poignant, reflective, honest without pretension or expectations. It wasn't quite what I expected, but it was interesting and well-written.
A book about Allen and his autistic fraternal twin Mary, who is institutionalized. Very good and interesting except for the parts where he starts talking about his composing and just goes on and on about it. I liked the way he felt about his sister, very loving and respectful. Not faked at all, you could see his genuine affection for her.
I thought this would be more about the experiences of being a twin with an autistic person, and how the connection overcame the differences. Instead, it was a book about autism and had very little to do with his relationship with his twin.
I picked it up because it was referred to in the Autism section of the book "Far From The Tree" written by Andrew Solomon. I hoped it would give some insight into having an autistic sibling— especially a twin. However, this book has catastrophically disappointed me (& as I see, many other readers as well). The writer is self-obsessed, relating every mundane event and decision in his life to losing his sister in his childhood, even when he proclaims himself that losing her wasn't a significant memory to him consciously.
He talks about his life as a composer, details his tutoring under different musicians...it reads much like a self-indulgent autobiography with attempts to victimize himself and put himself in the centre fold of Mary's autism.
If you came in with the expectation to understand autism and what it means to have a sibling in the spectrum & you're adamant to read this book, I recommend you just read two chapters— 6 & 10.
Chapter 6: Cracks Between The Keys is about his father William Shawn's personal double life & basically describes the family dynamic into which him & his twin sister were born. This helps put into perspective all the complications the writer has unsuccessfully tried to explain in all the previous chapters.
Chapter 10- Autism: this is where you get a comprehensive guide to how autism was perceived decades ago. The writer has cited different real-life examples of people with autism who have different challenges and routines.
Chapter 11 is a climactic ending to the book in where he describes one of his solo visits to the institution in which Mary belongs now. He seems to observe other inmates around him, routinely going through the motions with supposed emotional disconnection.
Twin nearly drowns the reader in empathy, both the unknowable experience of living in an utterly different autistic world, and the dark forces that work upon us when we try to ignore a loss, whether through separation, death, or estrangement. The book seems like one of the author´s projects of self-rehabilitation, and while some of his speculations seem mistaken to me (and what, really, can I know) they are all thoughtful, honest, and beautifully expressed. ¨All childhoods are normal to the child.¨ (p 61) ¨It is presumably a rare person who, at the age of twenty-one, doesn´t feel some dread aboutall that cannot yet be known, about how their lives will turn out, about what fortunes and misfortunes will befall them and when. But precisely because it is unknowable, the future for young people who are not in dire circumstances still seems to hold infinite possibilities for joy and is limited only by the limitations of ftheir imaginations. Their dread is mitigated by a gigantic physical appetite for life, as if the future were a perfect juicy orange cut in half on a summer table, or the gently smiling naked Venus of Urbino in Titian´s painting, waiting, ready to be embraced, to be enfolded, to be loved.¨ (p. 129-30)
A couple of days ago I opened a book 'Quiet' by Susan Cain. Before the content page there was a moderately long quote from Allen Shawn. It was so captivating. A mesmerizingly lyrical prose conveying a message that no one has tied to convey so beautifully. I closed the book and went to seek any writings by Allen Shawn. I landed on 'Twin: A Memoir.'
It is a frank and true account of what it was like to be a twin to an autistic sister. Very intense, deep and immensely informative (you could note down at least a dozen books mentioned). Adding twist to the narration is the double (love) life of the author's father. You would certainly enjoy reading it.
I could have felt guilty of leaving 'Quiet' for 'Twin' like a groom who eloped with the bridesmaid on the wedding day. But Quiet was waiting for my reading, like any book which finds its salvation at the mercy of a reader.
Allen Shawn shares his personal journey of understanding the impact of having his twin sister, Mary, institutionalized at age nine. Born on the autism spectrum during a period when there was little science, understanding or methods to assist these children. Shawn struggles his entire life with a feeling of deep lose that is expressed through severe agoraphobia among other conditions he explores in an earlier work. He is a composer and spends a fair amount of time about the role music plays in his life. With a son who is a musician, these segments held my interest -- but the story is a bit draggy in the middle. He provides many sources -- books and articles -- on autism and for those wanting to read more, it is a rich resource. Quick and insightful.
I think I would have been able to appreciate this book more if I knew anything about music composition, as that is the authors profession and passion. There were some informative parts about autism, and how the diagnosis and treatment of those on the spectrum has evolved. I didn't feel like the information was very organized. It also bothered me that the author was blind to his and his family's financial privilege. What he considers "normal" was, often, just another sign of his affluence. Not everyone attends private schools, studies abroad, has summer homes etc. His sister's treatment also sounds like it was conducted in a private facility. Those have always been expensive and inaccessible to many.
The author had a twin that was diagnosed as autistic, but it seemed that the whole family was disabled. He and his father had extreme phobias. The story follows his twin and the advances she made over the years. He also described habits of other autistic individuals I probably would not have finished this book if it had not been audio. Some parts were extremely boring
It really seamed like there should be a lot more to the end of the book. It seemed to just stop. There is so much more that could have been discovered about his sister Mary. I suspect he didn't want to get into the detail and trama of it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Focusing heavily on his life and vague feelings of something missing, a separation, the end chapters of the book get a little more into autism in general. An interesting account to read from a not-that-distant past where most human variations were not understood and misdiagnosed.
The first part of this memoir held my interest with an account of Mary’s diagnosis and development in an era where very little was known about autism. But once the author dove into his own narrative, I lost interest and didn’t finish 😞
Allen Shawn is a thoughtful writer, and this memoir of how he and his family's life was shaped by both the presence and absence of his autistic twin sister Mary contains a lot of unanswered, and perhaps unanswerable, questions.
Shawn's sister is sent away from home at age 8, and he is still dealing with this severed relationship with his twin. "To me there was nothing wrong with Mary. She was simply herself, an inextricable part of the world I knew."
The family was full of secrets and repressed feelings, and Mary became a mostly unacknowledged black hole in the dynamics of the other members: his parents, his older brother, and himself. We are defined as much by what is gone as by what remains, and this seems particularly true of the bond of twinship. Though his parents and brother tiptoed around the void, Aleen had no choice but to be constantly engulfed within.
Shawn early on discovered music as therapy, a way to express what he could not put into words, and an escape from what he did not know he was running from. Some of his most wonderful recollections involve the music that he discovered, explored, and created, and how it affected his intellect, growth, and emotions. He finds a parallel in his sister's problems with spoken language: "Mary has an entire language at her disposal, but words are only a small part of it." There are many ways to communicate and understand the world, and though Mary's ways are not those most people use, that does not mean they are not equally valid or equally rich.
Everyone is mysterious and unknowable to some extent, the person with autism just more so than most. "When you look closely at anyone, they transcend type. Everyone is on a spectrum. Everyone breaks the rules."
I couldn't help making a connection between Mary and Fuka-Eri, in Murakami's 1Q84, which I'm in the middle of reading. Both don't quite fit comfortably, have their own interior rules for communication, seem to experience the world in a slightly off-kilter, different, way. Yet both play important roles in the lives of those around them.
Before humans came to diagnose and label the "mentally ill" or "differently abled" many cultures found roles for them that allowed these people to be themselves yet also to be part of the larger world. Shawn mourns not only Mary's isolation and separation, but "her untapped potential." To cope with and feel comfortable in the present world we must conform to a large extent, and follow the rules or risk rejection, banishment, confinement. Some things are gained through such order, but we need to acknowledge that much is also lost. If we could learn to "recognize [Mary] in ourselves" perhaps we could find room for a richer variation in normal acceptablity.
I had a hard time putting this book down; I found the author's life and thoughts very interesting.
p. 1: "I don't like losing things. I keep a list of books I know I once had, and know I've read, that I have somehow misplaced...Even when I lose a pair of pants, a sense of vexation...arises in me that seems out of all proportion to the loss, and if the pants are suddenly presented to me apologetically at the dry cleaners, I feel a strange giddiness...It is strange that in this world in which everything is sooner or later lost, where losing is the only certainty, one gets attached to even the smallest things and wants to be able to say goodbye even to a pair of pants, rather than have it simply disappear. One wants to see a logic in disappearances and to know when one is losing things. Even if, in the end, we get to keep nothing."
I love that beginning, because I feel the same way! (And I didn't have a twin sent away...but then I did lose a sibling that I didn't even know about until I was in my twenties...one aborted by my mother...could that loss have affected me?) It does seem to be an accurate representation of the human condition...loss.
p. 99:"Starting when I was twelve or thirteen, a musical form would appear in my mind the way a steak appears in a thought bubble over the head of a comic-strip dog: I would feel an appetite to create music that would fill a particular shape. Melodies would come to me easily when I sat down to compose, as if they had been there all along but had been drowned out by the din of life."
pp. 219-220: "My head is spinning from the impressions of the afternoon.Just by sitting in the cafeteria for a few hours I grew gradually accustomed to a king of expanded sense of the human spectrum. I was reminded of the experiences I have had hearing quarter-tone music. At first it sounds out of tune because one listens to it with ears accustomed to music in which the octave is divided into twelve half steps, instead of the twnety-four gradations present in quarter-tone music. But after a while it begins to sound right and like a different way of being "in tune." Afterward, in fact, half steps by comparison seem large."
Although I enjoyed his reasonings, I do think the author "blames" too much of his problems on his twin's being sent away. As he himself wrote, his father and other relatives also had panic attacks, so I think it was a stretch to attribute his to the absence of Mary.
Also I found it interesting that he has not figured out why he is agoraphobic--presumably he's had therapy. I think one can't always figure out the WHYS, even with extensive therapy.
The final anecdote in this book along with the account of the waning days and years of Shawn’s mother’s life were the most poignant excerpts of this book.
Unfortunately, the author’s apparent lack of empathy and pronounced egotism meant the rest of the “memoir” was less compelling. Mary is on the cover of the book, but long stretches pass without reference to her at all. Most discussion of her feels condescending, and even at times inappropriate given the fact that she clearly could not possibly have consented to private and personal medical information being shared along with quotes from various analysts and personal records. The premise of the memoir was full of promise, the execution left me cringing.