Christopher Boone Quotes

Then the police arrived. I like the police. They have uniforms and numbers and you know what they are meant to be doing. (11.1)

This naturally implies that Christopher has difficulty with most other people because, well, he doesn't know what "they are meant to be doing," and that makes him nervous.

This made me feel a lot calmer because it is what policemen say on television and in films. (17.2)

We can understand that Christopher is reassured by the fact that policemen behave in the way he expects. But this almost suggests that he considers the fictional world on TV more "real" than the world in which he actually lives and breathes.

The rule for working out prime numbers is really simple, but no one has ever worked out a simple formula for telling you whether a very big number is a prime number or what the next one will be. If a number is really, really big, it can take a computer years to work out whether it is a prime number. (19.6)

What's wrong with this mathematical picture? We thought Christopher was all about logic and order, so shouldn't he hate prime numbers? They're just about the least-orderly things around. Even computers can't predict where they're going to show up! What makes prime numbers different, such that they don't make him uneasy like other unpredictable things?

I was also wearing my watch and they wanted me to leave this at the desk as well but I said that I needed to keep my watch on because I needed to know exactly what time it was. And when they tried to take it off me I screamed, so they let me keep it on. (23.4)

The police are about to put Christopher into a jail cell. This doesn't bother him at all – in fact, he's quite happy there. His insistence on keeping his watch is similar – just as he's quite happy being restricted in space, he needs some sort of boundaries in time as well. He needs things to have order, and for time to be divided into neatly segmented minutes.

He said that I was clearly a very logical person, so he was surprised that I should think like this because it wasn't very logical.

I said that I liked things to be in a nice order. And one way of things being in a nice order was to be logical. Especially if those things were numbers or an argument. But there were other ways of putting things in a nice order. And that was why I had Good Days and Black Days. [...]

I said that when Father got up in the morning he always put his trousers on before he put his socks on and it wasn't logical but he always did it that way, because he liked things in a nice order, too. Also whenever he went upstairs he went up two at a time always starting with his right foot. (47.2-4)

This once again points to Christopher's desire for stability and structure. Here, he makes the argument that not only do we all want some structure, but we all find individual (and often arbitrary) ways to do so – anything to establish some control over chaos.

And sometimes Mrs. Shears stayed overnight at our house and I liked it when she did because she made things tidy and she arranged the jars and pans and tins in order of their height on the shelves in the kitchen and she always made their labels face outwards and she put the knives and forks and spoons in the correct compartments in the cutlery drawer. (67.99)

On the surface, this quote points us back to Christopher's desire for order in the world around him. But, beneath that, it says something about his relationship with the people in that world as well. Here, the role of "mother" in Christopher's household is arguably reduced to cleaning the house and arranging the things in the kitchen. As long as Mrs. Shears does that, this suggests that her installment as surrogate mother is okay with Christopher. Is that a fair judgment to make?

I wondered whether I should open the envelope because it was something I had taken from Father's room. But then I reasoned that it was addressed to me so it belonged to me so it was OK to open it. (149.50)

Is Christopher using twisted logic to justify actions he very well knows are wrong? Or is he proving that although common sense suggests these actions are wrong, they're actually logically sound?

And then I Formulated a Plan. And that made me feel better because there was something in my head that had an order and a pattern and I just had to follow the instructions one after the other. (179.30)

Check out the way this is expressed. Making decisions as they come up doesn't work for Christopher. Instead, he gives himself a list of instructions, and then takes a step back and follows those instructions, essentially forgetting that <em>he's</em> the author. Is this, in a sense, denying himself free will?


And then the next train came I wasn't so scared any more because the sign said TRAIN APPROACHING so I knew it was going to happen. (227.8)

It might be just the way he expresses it, but once again, this quote suggests that it isn't simply that Christopher needs things to have an order to them, but that he needs to know about that order – to be a part of it, and in effect have some control over it. (We can only wonder what would happen if someone said, "Yes, Christopher, there is an order to the way this thing works. But we can't tell you what it is." If you ask us, that wouldn't really cut it.)

And the next morning I looked out of the window in the dining room to count the cars in the street to see whether it was going to be a Quite Good Day or a Good Day or a Super Good Day or a Black Day, but it wasn't like being on the bus to school because you could look out of the window for as long as you wanted and see as many cars as you wanted and I looked out of the window for three hours and I saw 5 red cars in a row and 4 yellow cars in a row which meant it was both a Good Day and a Black Day so the system meant it was both a Good Day and a Black Day so the system didn't work any more. (229.43)

Wow, this is a big moment. Christopher has been totally removed from all of the structure and routines that he had back in Swindon. Now, super far away in London, he looks out at the world and sees that the rules he has placed upon things (in order to order them, you might say) don't work anymore, and all along only existed in his own mind.

I do not like people shouting at me. It makes me scared that they are going to hit me or touch me and I do not know what is going to happen. (5.5)

Sometimes Christopher is afraid of the things we're <em>all </em>afraid of: in this case, violence. He takes it one step further, though, and includes "touch" as a scary possibility.

It is like being in France, which is where we went on holiday sometimes when mother was alive, to camp. And I hated it because if you went into a shop or a restaurant or on a beach you couldn't understand what anyone was saying which was frightening. (67.4)

The literal language barrier serves as a powerful illustration of Christopher's difficulty with more subtle kinds of communication, like body language and tone of voice. And, of course, his fearfulness in France at hearing words he doesn't understand is dwarfed by the daily occasions in which people express themselves in ways he's totally unable to interpret.

So because it was a Super Good Day I decided to walk into the park with Mrs. Alexander even though it scared me. (97.73)

Isn't it amazing how Christopher can overcome his fears and limitations seemingly at will? Surely there isn't anything intrinsically special about having seen a few red cars in a row. What is that enables him to muster courage at these otherwise random moments?

And she jumped backwards and disappeared under the water and I thought a shark had eaten her and I screamed and she stood up out of the water again and came over to where I was standing […] (113.4)

This is a rare occasion when Christopher (contrary to his claims) lets his imagination get the better of him. Usually he's scared when he doesn't know what's happening. But here, he's scared because he <em>thinks</em> he knows something bad is happening. When his mother returns, he doesn't need to know what she was doing (as long as it wasn't being eaten by a shark).

And then I knew it wasn't a joke and I was really frightened. (167.23)

Christopher has a difficult time determining when people are joking, which makes it especially interesting to imagine him sort of putting his fear on stand-by until he decides whether or not his dad is joking (about killing Wellington the dog). When he realizes his pop's not joking, he makes an immediate (logical, in a way) connection between his dad killing a dog and the thought that his dad would be capable of hurting him as well.

I was cold and I was frightened Father might come out and find me. But I felt safer in the garden because I was hidden. (179.1)

It's really incredible just how quickly Christopher's father becomes a villain. This is the man who has taken care of Christopher for fifteen years, but in just one moment, he becomes someone who Christopher feels might want to do him serious harm.

And then I realized that there was nothing I could do which felt safe. (179.23)

We'll just take a moment to remind you that this is the same boy who on previous occasions (89.14) put his head against the wall, closed his eyes, and groaned when things didn't feel safe. The fact that he reaches this point and still perseveres through the rest of his adventure is truly extraordinary.

Normally I would have got more and more frightened if I was walking to school, because I had never done it before. But I was frightened in two different ways. And one way was being frightened of being far away from a place I was used to, and the other was being frightened of being near where Father lived, and they were in inverse proportion to one another, so that the total fear remained a constant as I got further away from home and further away from Father [...] (179.71)

Christopher's world has been turned completely upside-down. School is no longer safe (because he's walking there for the first time), home is no longer safe, and his father is no longer safe. Unfortunately, the "total fear" continues to increase as he progresses on his journey.

But after a few seconds [the signs] looked like this [...] because there were too many and my brain wasn't working properly and this frightened me so I closed my eyes again and I counted slowly to 50 but without doing the cubes. And I stood there and I opened my Swiss Army Knife in my pocket to make me feel safe and I held on to it tight. (211.27)

Two things: (1) We want to emphasize not only how dependent Christopher is on his stupendous brain power, but how keenly aware of it he is at all times. (2) We have to say something about the open Swiss Army Knife. Does it represent just how intensely frightened he must be feeling to be prepared to stab (or at least threaten to stab) someone? Or does it show how incapable he is of empathy (that is, that hurting someone else would be a bad thing)?

And I was shaking and I wanted to be back at home, and then I realised I couldn't be at home because Father was there and he told a lie and he killed Wellington which meant that it wasn't my home any more, my home was 451c Chapter Road, London NW2 5NG and it scared me, having a wrong thought like I wish I was back at home again because it meant my mind wasn't working properly.

Finally, Christopher begins to feel betrayed even by his own mind. If anything's going to scare him, it's that.