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LitPicks - April '07 A Lighter Touch | Wonderfully Written | Great Works The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time By Mark Haddon, 2003 240 pp.
By Molly LundquistWhat's the world like in the mind of an autistic child? That's the question Mark Haddon explores in this funny, immensely readable book about an autistic English boy. On page 1 Christopher Boone (15) finds his neighbor’s dog stabbed with a garden fork. Over the next 119 pages, he attempts to solve the mystery of its murder. On page 120, he finds the answer; 101 pages later, the book ends. There are 45 drawings, 17 charts and graphs, 12 equations, 16 lists, and 1 photo. And that’s not counting the 3-3/4 page appendix. It took me 2:57:45 hours to finish the book. That's pretty much the way the young narrator negotiates his world: he uses numbers, logic, and scientific facts. He can’t understand jokes or metaphors like “he was the apple of her eye”: his brain can’t compute the equation apple = eye because an apple is not an eye. It just isn’t. Yet he can compute stunningly complicated mathematical equations in his head —he’s an autistic savant. As narrator, Christopher mediates the world for us: we see everything through his misfired and over-fired synapses—the results are amusing and illuminating. He shows us our own cultural misfirings: our absurd use of language, the shallow convention of “chatting,” the white (and not so white) lies we tell, and the uncontrollable anger of supposedly mature adults, whose tantrums aren’t all that unlike Christopher's own. Yet, because he can see the world only through facts and logic, Christopher is unable to grasp the subtleties and mystery of human feeling. And, for the same reason, he is unable to impose moral judgment on our human frailties. As a result, it's a little harder for us to pass judgment, too. Clubs say this book generates excellent discussions of autism. I think it also can generate some very interesting discussions about the behavior of so-called normal folk. top of page This is a powerful love story—but not the one between Redford and Streep as told the 1985 movie. (Hair-wash down by the river, anyone?) This love affair is with Africa, and Dinesen's writings capture its majestic beauty: the land, wildlife, and Kenyan people. Much of the book is spent recounting her relationship with the tribal people who live at the edge of “her” coffee plantation. Dinesen gains their respect and friendship and speaks of their culture in a strange mix of awe and condescension. She works hard on their behalf, protecting them from the British and the system of laws that prevents native people from owning their own land! Dinesen is an expert hunter who, as her loyal friend and servant Farah boasts, “never misses a thing.” Yet our current sensitivity to endangered wildlife makes it hard not to cringe while reading of her safaris. Her own accounts make her shootings—and her pride in them—appear wanton and troubling. We have to remind ourselves that hers was a different time. What we take from the story is our awe for Dinesen—her courage, will, and independence. She is a real-life proto-feminist, capable of asserting her feminine charm and completely disregarding it. A tribal chief once tells Dinesen how proud his people were of the beautiful dress she had worn to an important tribal dance (a ritual she had arranged for the Prince of Wales). “It pleases our hearts when we think about it,” the chief says, because “every day on the farm, you are terribly badly dressed.” In her day Isak Dinesen was known an oral storyteller, a Scheherazade who wove tales of enchantment for her audiences. In this work, she has created an equally enchanting written memoir. Out of Africa will generate thoughtful discussions of colonialism, feminism, religion and spirituality for any book club who chooses this beautiful work. |
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