Reviewed by: See It Feelingly: Classic Novels, Autistic Readers, and the Schooling of a No-Good English Professor by Ralph James Savarese Alexander Steele SAVARESE, RALPH JAMES. See It Feelingly: Classic Novels, Autistic Readers, and the Schooling of a No-Good English Professor. Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2018. 273 pp. $29.95 cloth; $29.95 e-book. Poised "halfway between memoir and literary criticism" (12), Ralph James Savarese's See It Feelingly does not theorize so much as describe and advocate for the neurodiverse reading experiences of five autistic readers. It is a self-reflective "book about teaching—autistics teaching me, me (sort of) teaching autistics" (xviii). After helping his son DJ, who recently became the tenth nonspeaking person with autism to hold a bachelor's degree, learn to write poetry, Savarese committed himself to squaring research literature on autistic impairment with the contrary evidence he had first experienced with his son. "My intention from the beginning of this project," he writes, "has been to eschew the customary focus on autistic deficits and to explore instead how a talent for sensory engagement—and, yes, strong feeling—might contribute productively to the reading process" (6). A prior neurohumanities fellow at Duke University's Institute for Brain Sciences as well as an English professor, Savarese brings cognitive literary studies together with disability studies. "See It Feelingly," he summarizes, "is about my experience discussing classic American novels (and a couple of short stories) with autistic readers across the spectrum," from "the so-called 'high-functioning' to the so-called 'low-functioning'; from those who might 'pass' as neurotypical…to those whose perseverative behavior and inability to speak encourage others to dismiss them as intellectually incompetent" (5). What he calls his "qualitative ethnographical" (95) approach is more accurately categorized, however, as a memoir, given its structure: most of the book describes his time with his "conversation partners, report[ing] what they have to say" (12) about their literary encounters without extrapolating sweeping conclusions from them. Uninterested in "mining" readers for their novel insights, even as they emerge organically on their own, the project commits itself to privileging the same autistic voices which remain largely absent within [End Page 222] literary studies. The role of voice as such takes on immense weight. While Savarese does provide lengthy direct quotations from his reading partners, he also paraphrases them, falling close at times to unintentionally stealing the voices of those he wants to "champion" (12). That which Savarese's memoir includes becomes as considerable, at times, as that which his approach must leave out. After interfacing on Skype for months or even over a year, Savarese produced what he calls a "narrative" (8) of his shared experiences with autistic readers, ranging from young adults to those well into adulthood. So too do his reading partners represent a gamut of genders, races, sexualities, and, of course, disabilities. Savarese personally knew or had professionally crossed paths with each of his project "participants" (12) beforehand. Each participated voluntarily in the project; apart from sharing their literary experiences, they did not co-author the manuscript. The readings were suggested based on the personal interests of Savarese's readers. Knowing of Jamie Burke's ongoing fascination with Native American studies, for example, Savarese asked if he would like to read Leslie Marmon Silko's Ceremony (Ch. 2); of Dora Raymaker's experience as a former programmer intrigued by artificial intelligence, if she would like to read Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (Ch. 3). Also considered are Moby-Dick (Ch. 1, with Tito Mukhopadhyay), The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter (Ch. 4, with "Eugenie," a pseudonym for publication), and the 2014 short story collection Among Animals (Ch. 5, with Temple Grandin). Savarese narrates his own literary encounters with his reading partners alongside and as equal to their literary responses. In a telling example, Savarese asks Tito if they aren't "imposing autism" (53) on their reading of Moby-Dick, to which Tito replies: "'No.… It is the hidden image that lurks in the sea. Sometimes it shows up as Ahab's mania…[and] sometimes it shows up in Moby Dick himself'" (53). "In at least one respect," Savarese reflects, "my...