Neurodivergence in Narration: Understanding Sayaka Murata’s Convenience Store Woman

By Art and Literature Editor Luca Cavallo

Author David Hartley writes in his article titled, "The Fantastic Autistic: Creating Narrative from the ‘Anti-Narrative’ Poetics of Neurodivergence" that he recognises “the affinity between autism and the fantastic”. He contends that his fantastical novel has the capability to establish an authentic narrative from an autistic perspective. However, it is an exaggeration to believe that an authentic narrative of a neurodivergent character can only be achieved in a “fantastical” setting. Funnily enough, Hartley cites Mark Osteen’s “Narrating Autism” but misses the set of “rules” that Osteen lays down in his study of stereotypical characterisations of autism. Let’s have a look at three of these rules:

Rule #1: The autistic person must be a savant.

Rule #2: The autistic person must be charmingly quirky, but not too severely disabled.

Rule #4: The autistic person must experience a miraculous cure.

Having related autism in fantasy to Darko Suvin’s “cognitive estrangement”, it is not likely that Hartley will make it past Rule #1.

Osteen recognises that “autism seems uniquely resistant to narrative”, and this is an understandable problem for an author hoping to write an exciting plot with an autistic narrative. A common aspect of autism is a dedication to routine and organisation. As Osteen himself asks, “How do you craft a tale about events or people that never change?” One ideal answer to this question is in Sayaka Murata’s 2016 novel, Convenience Store Woman. Keiko is a 36-year-old, single woman who works at the Smile Mart, a convenience store. Keiko has worked there since she was 18 and has become personally involved with the Smile Mart, so much so, that she recognises being an employee as part of her identity.

If it were up to Keiko, she would happily live by the routine of the 24-hour convenience store. She doesn’t consider things like ageing to be as important to her, for she says, “I’m now thirty-six years old, and the convenience-store-worker-me is eighteen”. The idea of autism, however, is not mentioned by Keiko. This is an interesting narrative approach, for Keiko is unconcerned with anything “special” about herself. Her ambition is to be an efficient worker and blend in with the store’s environment. In that environment, Keiko struggles to fully grasp social behaviour and learns to imitate that of her coworkers.

“If I went along with the manager when he was annoyed or joined in the general irritation at someone skiving off the night shift, there was a strange sense of solidarity as everyone seemed pleased that I was angry too.”

Immediately, Keiko is far from Osteen’s Rules #1 and #2. Keiko is not a savant, and she strives to be acceptably ordinary in her abilities. Neither is she “quirky”, or “charming”, like another product of Rain Man’s influence on autistic characters. Gordon Bates writes that, sometimes, people with autism “who do not need company or do not display emotion in culturally sanctioned ways are viewed with suspicion.” Keiko therefore limits her social interaction to what she thinks will please others, but not much more. However, problems arise for Keiko when it comes to Rule #4, where her friends (and their nosy husbands) badger her constantly about getting married, leaving the convenience store, and being normal.

Overwhelmed by societal pressure, Keiko asks Shiraha, a misogynistic layabout, to live with her, in the hope that their union will put her peers’ invasive inquiries to rest. Shiraha persuades Keiko to leave the Smile Mart and pursue “a real job”. In other words, a “cure” is offered to Keiko, and although she takes it, she quickly falls into misery. When Keiko finally rejects Shiraha and pledges to work at another convenience store, she finally feels like “a being with meaning”, her own meaning, not someone else’s. 

There is no “cure” for Keiko because there is no illness.

Keiko’s ending is not at all typical of a standard narrative. She happily embraces the fulfilment she experiences as a convenience store worker. The characters surrounding Keiko would consider this a tragedy, but for her, it is a happy ending. There is no “cure” for Keiko because there is no illness. Convenience Store Woman’s narrative treats neurodivergence without condescension or exaggeration. It is not David Hartley’s “fantastic”, nor is it Rain Man's “quirky”. Murata is unafraid of the outcome of a protagonist who yearns for stasis, and her execution of Keiko’s character should be a landmark in the canon of neurodiverse literature.