This is a terrible thing to say, but if I were Christopher's mother I would want to leave him too. Yes, this book shows him as brave and intelligent and good, and I was genuinely invested in him succeeding in both getting to London and taking his A levels, but the sheer miserable grind of living with him, the death of all spontaneity and creativity and social life, lest it cause a screaming fit... I understand that having a child like Christopher is one of the risks you take on when having children, but that is one of the many, many reasons I do not want children. I couldn't cope with him. The book's fairly short but by the end I'd already had enough.

Haddon's done a very good job, though - at least from my own ignorant perspective - in portraying someone who is non-neurotypical. Christopher felt convincing, as did the people around him. I also thought that Haddon did a good job writing on multiple levels. What Christopher understood, and what the reader understood, was happening in his family was definitely different. Children are often unreliable narrators at the best of times, but that tendency was really emphasised here, and to good effect. I have to say, though, I ended the book feeling most sympathy for Mrs. Shears, who lost both her horrible husband and her dog, to the same damn family, and never got any justice or compensation for either.