The Elegant Variation: GOING OUT ON A LIMB TIME

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November 07, 2003

GOING OUT ON A LIMB TIME

So, I noticed something yesterday as I was reading the Literary Saloon's posting on literary weblogs. After I got done gazing at the entry for my own site for what was probably an indecent amount of time, I actually read all the commentary that precedes the choices. And I took note of the mention that few of these sites post our own reviews of what we're reading. As it happens, I've worked up some reviews as I've been poking around for some reviewing gigs, and I thought why not post those reviews right here, for the benefit of my loyal readers. All twelve of you. So, with a deep breath and not a little trepidation, I offer my first entry. If site traffic doesn't completely slam to a halt, I may come back with more ...

“The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time”
Mark Haddon
Doubleday; 226 pages
$22.95

From Of Mice and Men to Flowers for Algernon to the remarkable non-fiction of Oliver Sacks, authors have long looked for ways to convincingly and sympathetically render the mentally disabled. All too often, in lesser hands, such characters are little more than maudlin, bathetic stereotypes. Apparently, the temptation to descend into pathos or the simplicity of obvious tics and gestures is a constant danger and can be difficult to resist.

Fortunately for us all, Mark Haddon has resolutely filled his ears against this sirens’ call and offered up an impressive debut novel. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time was longlisted for Britain’s prestigious Man Booker Award, and many observers were surprised that it did not advance to the shortlist. John Carey, chairman of the Booker panel of judges, went so far as to go on the record and tell the Guardian, “"We have several clashes of opinion among the judges but I found Haddon's book about a boy with Asperger's syndrome breathtaking.”

Asperger Syndrome is a condition that resembles autism and, according to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders IV, can include such symptoms as “marked impairments in the use of multiple nonverbal behaviors such as eye-to-eye gaze, facial expression, body postures, and gestures to regulate social interaction” and “encompassing preoccupation with one or more stereotyped and restricted patterns of interest that is abnormal either in intensity or focus.” This scarcely seems like a promising basis for a character – for a narrator, no less – but Haddon draws on his experience working with autism to animate Christopher, the 15-year-old who investigates the murder of a neighbor’s dog which gives the book its title.

Superficially it seems that the traits mentioned above should serve to make Christopher the original unreliable narrator but in fact they make him a surprisingly trustworthy guide through the mysterious events that make up the narrative of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. Although Christopher’s perception of events are always partial, circumscribed by the boundaries of his condition, the honesty and sheer literalism imposed by the same condition anoints him with a clarity and a perceptiveness that serves both him and the reader well. Unfortunately for Christopher this honesty does not necessarily put him in good graces with family and neighbors as he applies the methods of his favorite literary detective, Sherlock Holmes, to try to determine who or what is responsible for Wellington’s untimely demise.

Christopher lives a tightly controlled existence with his widower father – “I said I liked things to be in a nice order. And one way of things being in a nice order was to be logical” -- and responds poorly to unexpected or heightened stimulation. While being interrogated by a policeman who can’t understand Christopher’s excessive literalness, the boy adopts his usual defensive position:

“I rolled back onto the lawn and pressed my forehead to the ground again and made the noise that Father calls groaning. I make this noise when there is too much information coming into my head from the outside world. It is like when you are upset and you hold the radio against your ear and you tune it halfway between two stations so that all you get is white noise and then you turn the volume right up so that this is all you can hear and then you know you are safe because you cannot hear anything else.”

Christopher finds himself rebuffed as he tries to learn more about the chain of events that have culminated in Wellington’s being perforated by gardening apparatus. As in all good detective stories, each new set of clues unearthed leads to more questions and the widening circle culminates in a positively harrowing depiction of an unaccompanied journey Christopher makes to London. Along the way, Christopher learns rather painfully that the answers to mysteries that appear to be external sometimes lie surprisingly close to home.

Haddon succeeds remarkably well at suggesting the inner workings of Christopher’s mind, and the book is an amalgam of words and diagrams – an autistic W.G. Sebald, if you like. Christopher’s observations about adult insincerity, hypocrisy and opacity are frequently quite funny and often moving.

“This is what Siobahn says is called a rhetorical question. It has a question mark at the end, but you are not meant to answer it because the person answering it already knows the answer. It is difficult to spot a rhetorical question.”

And earlier, as Christopher wrestles with the problem of metaphor, he notes:

“I think it should be called lie because a pig is not like a day and people do not have skeletons in their cupboards. And when I try and make a picture of the phrase in my head it just confuses me because imagining an apple in someone’s eye doesn’t have anything to do with liking someone a lot and it makes you forget what the person was talking about.”

Haddon faces unique difficulties centering his story around a character whose illness prevents him from any meaningful, emotional growth – an “arc,” in the parlance of street. Since the best we can ostensibly hope for is a solution to the mystery (the resolution of the narrative thread at which Doyle’s Holmes stories – not coincidentally - excel), story sense may be gratified but the likelihood of an emotionally satisfying read seems remote. But Haddon’s effect is subtle and cumulative and by the end of the story, although Christopher’s universe has resumed a familiarly comforting shape, it is we who have grown by traveling with him and sharing in his gentle and odd wisdom.

Posted at 03:00 AM in Reviews | Permalink

Comments

The Review was a very interesting read. Makes me a little ashamed of the stance that I took and posted, that I was purposefully not listing my "reads". Focused on writing, I averaging only a book a month. So I figure, by the time I get around to reading something noteable, it will be "duh" to everyone else. *Smile* Reading the Review is making me re-think that.

Posted by: Lauren Michele | November 07, 2003 at 07:23 AM

I couldn't agree more with your analysis. I was blown away by this novel, but a friend said that he thought what happened with the mother was so implausible as to be a major flaw. On reflection I think he's right but like you I grew so attached to the narrator that my emotional engagement overcame any criticism of the story itself.

Posted by: Emma | November 08, 2003 at 08:46 AM

One of the best book reviews I've read in quite some time. Thanks for the recommendation. I've taken your advice and moved it up in my reading list.

Posted by: Brian | December 05, 2003 at 10:57 AM

Just finished the book and reread your review. It turns out that your review was as accurate as it was informative. Your conclusions regarding the lack of "emotional growth" as a problem are particularly spot-on.

Posted by: Brian | January 07, 2004 at 01:13 PM

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The Elegant Variation is "Fowler’s (1926, 1965) term for the inept writer’s overstrained efforts at freshness or vividness of expression. Prose guilty of elegant variation calls attention to itself and doesn’t permit its ideas to seem naturally clear. It typically seeks fancy new words for familiar things, and it scrambles for synonyms in order to avoid at all costs repeating a word, even though repetition might be the natural, normal thing to do: The audience had a certain bovine placidity, instead of The audience was as placid as cows. Elegant variation is often the rock, and a stereotype, a cliché, or a tired metaphor the hard place between which inexperienced or foolish writers come to grief. The familiar middle ground in treating these homely topics is almost always the safest. In untrained or unrestrained hands, a thesaurus can be dangerous."

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*Now in Paperback*

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SECOND LOOK

The Bookshop by Penelope Fitzgerald

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The Elegant Variation

A Literary Weblog.
A Guardian Top 10 Literary Blog * A Forbes "Best of the Web" Pick * A Los Angeles Magazine Top Los Angeles Blog
"Really brave ... or really stupid" - NPR

November 07, 2003

GOING OUT ON A LIMB TIME

Comments

MY NOVEL

WORTHY READINGS

TEV DEFINED

RECOMMENDED

THIS GUN FOR HIRE:
Reviews & Criticism

SECOND LOOK

Categories

The Elegant Variation

A Literary Weblog. A Guardian Top 10 Literary Blog * A Forbes "Best of the Web" Pick * A Los Angeles Magazine Top Los Angeles Blog "Really brave ... or really stupid" - NPR

November 07, 2003

GOING OUT ON A LIMB TIME

Comments

MY NOVEL

WORTHY READINGS

TEV DEFINED

RECOMMENDED

THIS GUN FOR HIRE: Reviews & Criticism

SECOND LOOK

Categories

A Literary Weblog.
A Guardian Top 10 Literary Blog * A Forbes "Best of the Web" Pick * A Los Angeles Magazine Top Los Angeles Blog
"Really brave ... or really stupid" - NPR

THIS GUN FOR HIRE:
Reviews & Criticism