I enjoyed this novel even though I felt that it fell off by the end. I thought I knew where it was going and indeed, it got there, but half-way through, not at the finish: a pleasant surprise. Unfortunately the rest of the narrative, particularly the conclusion, felt a tad sentimental, and by that time some of Haddon's tricks were getting stale, too.
It's a funny and a clever book, nicely produced, and I enjoyed the metafictional elements. But somehow these came to feel at odds with the latter part of the narrative, and the whole didn't gel.
It niggles that the protagonist, an autistic youth named Christopher, went to what were for him significant extremes of bravery by the end. Yes it's a positive message — that people with differing abilities and situations can grow, change, be heroic. But I'm reminded of the Sigourney Weaver character in Copycat, and that harrowing finale where she overcomes her severe agoraphobia to battle the killer on an open roof. (Or, hell, Audrey Hepburn in Wait Until Dark). Haddon's novel is not so melodramatic, obviously, but it could be construed as a little bit Hollywood. If Dustin Hoffman were considerably younger ... Oh, wait ...
All that being said, Christopher is a character who will live with most readers a long time, and perhaps that's enough.
I might have read it too quickly. Or maybe I was just disappointed that it wasn't really a mystery. Though I suppose Monk covers some similar territory.
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