Christopher Boone Quotes

This is a touching, but ultimately quite sad, image. It's one of the few times we get a sense of just how difficult it is for Christopher to be unable to communicate with people, and the effort he has put forth to try to better understand what people are saying.

Christopher places great emphasis on facial expressions. One could argue, though, that it isn't how fast these expressions move, or how complicated they are, that gives him the most trouble. This dog example in particular suggests that the real issue is that people often try to conceal their true feelings and intentions, and disguise this emotion behind a misleading smile or a frown.

Even when Christopher <em>does</em> want to interact with a stranger (a rare occurrence), he finds it really difficult.

Regardless of how Christopher might try to deny it, Shmoop thinks he has a sense of humor – it's in there somewhere, he just needs to recognize it.

Isn't this an amazing passage? Who knew we were doing something so darn impressive every time we read someone's body language and facial expressions? It does sound way too complicated to work out in a few seconds. Such an amazing feat! And, the way he describes it, it's entirely understandable that Christopher is unable to do it so quickly.

We don't know about this one. Christopher's an unbelievably bright kid. Just as he's learned about skills like being polite and chatting, shouldn't he be able to infer what this kind of sign really indicates? We know he values exactitude, but this seems like an example of him just wanting to show how most people are, as he says, "stupid" (139.8).

What do you make of this comparison? Christopher writes that he finds strangers hard to understand. This makes sense, since the people around him know he has difficulty with body language and adjust their communication accordingly, while strangers will speak to him in ways he doesn't understand. But do you think it makes sense to compare this to people literally speaking in a foreign tongue? Do you buy it? Does this change the way you think of Christopher's disorder?

It isn't difficult to connect Christopher's idea of conversation to math problems. In his mind, "chatting" would be like one person saying "two plus two" and another person responding "seventy-five," or "eighteen times thirty" and "six."

By now we can understand why rhetorical questions would be confusing to Christopher. Using the same analogy from the previous quote, this would be like someone asking him, "What's sixteen divided by four?" and not expecting an answer. What's different about this example is the last sentence, which reveals a sadness, or weariness, at his confusion.

This is a perfect example of the way Christopher has learned to interact through rote memorization of social customs. We can just imagine the lesson: "And then when someone cooks you dinner, you should say, 'Thank you for dinner.'" "Why should I say that?" "Because that is being polite."

This line appears in one of Christopher's mother's letters – the one in which she explains why she left him and his father. After going on at length, with heart-wrenching explanations and recollections, she writes that she realizes Christopher might not be able to understand any of the letter at all, suggesting that she's writing this letter as much for herself (as a release valve, as a way to express her own grief and guilt) as she is to apologize to Christopher.

This remark might not jump out the first time we read it, way at the beginning of the book, but how do we read it differently once we know more about what happens later on?

Christopher takes lying very seriously. Is this because he never lies himself? Or is he particularly wary of lies because he has a hard time detecting when someone isn't telling the truth? Or is it from something he saw on TV – the same place he learned the word "slander"?

Hmm, is everything that isn't true a lie? Should we really outlaw metaphors? Once again, Christopher displays a frustration with his inability to understand the subtlety of language.

And what about this one? Does Christopher really consider all stories to be<em> lies</em>? He's already established how much he dislikes lying in general, but what about the stories he likes, like <em>Sherlock Holmes</em>? Are those lies too? Or are those okay?

Lying and not lying aside, what do you think: is Christopher a good person?

Is that really the only possible way to lie? What about saying something didn't happen that really did? Can you think of a reason why Christopher wouldn't be as concerned with that side of lying?

If you ask us, Christopher has a pretty narrow definition of lying. (We can break it down like this: adding things – or exaggerating – is lying, and is not okay. But taking things away – omitting things – is not lying, and is okay.) And, hey, even by his own definition, he might not be lying, but he certainly isn't telling the truth.

This remark goes far in expressing just what a betrayal it is for Christopher's father to have lied about his mother's death. For Christopher, truth = love. Without truth, there cannot be love.

We don't know about you, but we find this image both really sweet and devastatingly sad. Maybe we just really like hugging. Sure, there's nothing intrinsic about hugs that screams "love." You can hug people you don't like – your opponent in a boxing match, say, or your least-favorite relative. But there's certainly something in an embrace that signals a deep emotional connection. To imagine Christopher and his father touching fingertips seems like a terribly inadequate replacement.