Storytelling as an art form in Autumn becomes the very thread that holds together the disparate fragments as well as subjectivities of the post-Brexit reality. The stories in this novel can be interpreted as both the object and the subject of action, and the interaction with them also has a dual nature. On the one hand, stories can be read and, in this case, they manifest a practice of interpretation; on the other hand, once told, they become a powerful tool for shaping reality. The ability to simultaneously read and tell stories, a skill whose importance is communicated, at the same time, by Daniel Gluck and the overall text of the novel itself, becomes crucial in the post-Brexit UK, where, in the most postmodern understanding, the categories of reliability, stability, and hope are appropriated by the perpetrators of the outplayed narrative. To resist the “mass culture of lies” constructed in the Brexit UK, Smith uses Ovidian plots as a manifestation of the changeability, adaptability, and transformative capability of art. In the dystopian world of the modern UK, disturbingly reminiscent of the nationalistic landscape of mid-20th-century Europe, dominated by xenophobic discourses, the Ovidian story of a human transforming into a tree becomes the symbol of humanity, witness and resistance, giving voice to those who were deprived of the right to speak. Ali Smith’s Autumn restores hope into the capability of stories to both change and enable change by becoming the connective tissue between numerous generations of readers and storytellers.