"Father"

Whether or not a reader can relate with a character is one of the most defining aspects of a novel. The more believable and interesting a character is to the reader, the more his or her actions will create an atmosphere that we, as fellow humans, can relate to. The essence of humanity, if I may be so bold as to presume to have an inkling of what it is, would have to be the ability to be flawed and yet still be an appealing person. In Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, this characteristic is found in the protagonist’s father, called simply “Father” throughout the book by the protagonist, Christopher.

In a sense, even the name of the character Father is appealing; in the reader’s mind he becomes one’s own father, who, despite his flaws, loves you no matter who you are or what you do. Although most fathers are not quite like Christopher’s (I asked, and my dad has never killed a dog with a garden fork), there is no father out there who does not lose his temper every once in a while. Admittedly, Father has to put up with far more problems than the average parent due to Christopher’s autism, but this perseverance only strengthens his resolve in the eyes of the reader. For example, despite the fact that he is a single working father he manages to cater to Christopher’s unique dietary and educational needs. Furthermore, he willingly does it without a single real gesture of returned affection from Christopher. To me, his steady belief in Christopher’s unspoken love makes their relationship far more inspiring than if Christopher readily returned such adoration. The father aspect appeals to two different mindsets at the same time: those of the fathers and those of the sons. Because every father is a son (but not every son is a father) some readers are able to relate twice as well to Father’s personality; they can envision their own reactions through both viewpoints. Although the novel obviously sympathizes with Christopher’s situation, I myself felt more than a little pity for Father.

When Father’s imperfections are shown to Christopher, they are also shown to the reader. After Christopher learns about the lies his father has told him about his mother, Father breaks down, his formerly rock-like dependability crumbling with each additional word: “God knows, I try, Christopher, God knows I do, but… Life is difficult, you know. It’s bloody hard telling the truth all the time. Sometimes it’s impossible. And I want you to know that I’m trying, I really am” (120). It is the moments like these that define a characters role in the novel; without them, the reader would not be able to see much more into a character than a fabricated name and personality. Only when the character displays flaws can the reader truly begin to relate with him; in Father’s case, one feels sorry for his situation but at the same time recognizes the awful things that he’s done. Complex relationships such as this between the reader and character are what make a good writer great. (523)

My Monkey-Free Evolution

I come from a family of readers. That is, although most everybody’s family has read at some point in their lifetime, mine has happened to make a hobby out of it. Following in my sisters’ footsteps, I started reading at the ripe old age of three, and would often stay up late in bed to finish books I had started earlier and could not put down. As I grew older, the literary worlds of Phillip Pullman and Brian Jacques fascinated me, those of Roald Dahl and P.G. Wodehouse made me roar with laughter, and, to be perfectly honest, Little Women bored me senseless. As my age spiraled ever so higher, unfortunately, so did my awareness of the lack of “coolness” that such a hobby brings. For the past several years, my taste in books has been mostly limited to historical fiction and nonfiction about war (authors such as Jeff Shaara and Tim O’Brien) and older detective novels (authors like Donald Hamilton, Adam Hall, and Mickey Spillane). Like any normal person, I hate being bored when I read, and I believe that only so much satisfaction can be derived through the reading of the “elevated style” of works by authors such as Dickens and Hawthorne.


Because I hate reading boring material, I strive to make my writing interesting. In other words, I won’t write it if I can’t enjoyably read it. Of course, when one must meet certain requirements this is not always a plausible standard; I have yet to read or write an enjoyable research paper. As an activity, writing is not very enjoyable for me; I’d rather be up and about than sitting at a computer chair racking my brain for something clever to put down. My top writing achievements would, of course, include the (too) many research papers I’ve written and have yet to write. For me, writing those papers is more like running a marathon than it is like creating a work of art; it’s almost a physical pride in my ability to coherently assemble such massive amounts of information. My writing strengths include my pretty substantial vocabulary and decent sense of humor, while some of my weaknesses are my tendency to ramble off-topic, speak in run-on sentences, and to use parentheses too often. What I have read over my lifetime has influenced the way that I will write for the rest of it, and every time I read a new book I find something that I would like to add to or subtract from my own style. It’s a work in progress. (426)