Mind-Reading in Haddon's "Curious Incident" -- an Outline

What I'd like to do here is talk myself through the outlining process for our final paper and hopefully, by putting these ideas down, make some important progress in urging this idea forward.

My initial area of interest was simply mind-reading in Haddon's novel The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. I have explored this element of the story in several of my previous blogs, and I've been fascinated by how Haddon uses the device of mind-reading and its lack to not only develop Christopher as a character, but also to develop the supporting characters; to not only drive the plot, but also reveal poignant themes. How does he do this, I wondered? I think it comes down to a few key elements:

Haddon uses silence and pauses very effectively. This feature is actually quite hard to communicate in prose without an obvious statement -- "He paused," etc. -- but Haddon manages it in some very creative ways. His pauses are often vacuous -- we are given no insight into Christopher's thought processes during these moments, leaving us to wonder if he is thinking anything at all. His reactions tend not to betray any recognition of meaning in the pause. However, for supporting characters, these pauses and silences are often laden with emotion, regardless of whether Christopher picks up on it (which he rarely, if ever, does). Haddon employs this device to give readers, who are kept at a distance due to their association with Christopher, a glimpse at the inner lives of characters such as Christopher's father and mother. Christopher's poor mind-reading ability factors importantly into these moments, especially with his parents; his non-reactions emphasize the lack of understanding between him and his parents, allowing us to relate to them on a very human level without sacrificing our empathy for Christopher.

Creating that empathy to begin with is one of Haddon's crucial tasks, and he accomplishes it with a second element of mind-reading I had a lot of fun exploring -- nonverbal body language, most notably the "breathing through the nose" motif. Siobhan's explanation of how the way a person pushes air through his or her nostrils may indicate a nearly limitless array of emotions factors early in the story to underline the hopelessness of communicating in a world where one has no ability to read such signs. In fact, reading signs, much like reading minds, poses many problems for Christopher in the story -- they are comparable in many ways. Too much indiscernable information presents itself in each case, and Christopher, without the inherent filter so many of us take for granted, becomes overwhelmed. The scenes in the train station emphasize this, and Haddon even provides an illustration of loud signs that have become jumbled in Christopher's mind. This illustration transcends the moment, communicating visually the flood of information that faces Christopher not just when he is in a new environment, but when he is simply interacting with people in his day to day life.

Another key minor element is eye contact, which I would like to examine not only in the context of the novel, but also as a vital element of social interaction as studied by cognitive and behavioral psychologists. Eye contact is one of the integral components of conversation, and we often rely on it to assist in mind-reading. When this form of interaction is not available, for whatever reason, communication is greatly hindered, and suspicion or confusion may be aroused. In the novel, this places additional burdens on Christpher, who tends to avoid eye contact and thus misses out on important social cues. If possible, I would like to examine the scientific literature relating to all of the mind-reading elements mentioned here, in order to determine their influence on social interaction and how Haddon might be using them to develop his characters. However, I may have to make some judgement calls in the editing room, depending on length and depth.

Lastly, if I have room, the final element I'd like to examine is dialect and tone. Haddon's dialogue is extremely revelatory, especially with secondary characters. While Christopher's narration and spoken words match up flushly with their dry forwardness, literally every other character (with possibly the occasional exception of Siobhan) speaks much more colorfully. Christopher's verbal tone remains mostly constant throughout the novel, but the shifts in tone from supporting characters, even though undetected by Christopher, who merely reports them word for word, provide yet another insight into their thoughts and emotions, which remain inaccessible to Christopher and therefore much more valuable to the reader.

My thesis, then, must be something along the lines of:

Haddon employs the elements of pauses, nonverbal body language and social cues, and spoken tone -- all of which have been shown to contribute significantly to mind-reading in human interaction -- to both highlight the burden placed on Christopher due to his poor mind-reading ability and also to provide insight into the secondary characters, whose thoughts and emotions are inaccessible to Christopher himself. Through this dual exposition, Haddon works to create a sense of empathy that connects the reader to both Christopher and to those around him, while illuminating the very divide that isolates Christopher from the people closest to him.

[Any comments or feedback on this outline will be much appreciated...]

Eye Contact in Haddon's "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time"

“Mimicry is regarded by developmental psychologists as essential to the acquisition of communication skills, including nonverbal ones.” – Bailenson, “The Virtual Laboratory”

 “Usually people look at you when they’re talking to you. I know that they’re working out what I’m thinking, but I can’t tell what they’re thinking. It is like being in a room with a one-way mirror in a spy film.” – Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (p. 22)

     The process of mind-reading—and often its lack—plays a fundamental role in Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. One of the most important means of mind-reading, of course, is achieved by observation. In conversation, this can be most effectively achieved by eye contact. As discussed by Bailenson in “The Virtual Laboratory,” another component essential to communication is mimicry of nonverbal movements. Eye contact can, and must, be classified in this category.

     At many key points in Haddon’s novel, implied eye contact—or, again, its lack—has a vital influence on the mind-reading capabilities of the characters, primarily Christopher. Early in the novel, Christopher quite clearly spells out his deficiencies in eye contact-related mind-reading, as seen in the excerpted passage above. He goes on to say, “But this was nice, having Father speak to me but not look at me” (23). Only when neither party is engaged in eye contact does Christopher feel on even footing.

     More frequently, Christopher’s aversion of eye contact—or perhaps his inability to mind read even in this context—results in miscommunications. For instance, when he is speaking with his mother and a policeman about living with her, Haddon gives us the following exchange:

And then he said, “Do you want to go back to Swindon to your father or do you want to stay here?”

And I said, “I want to stay here.”

And he said, “And how do you feel about that?”

And I said, “I want to stay here.”

“And the policeman said, “Hang on. I’m asking your mother.” (195)

     The ambiguous “you” in that third line, meant for Christopher’s mother, was misinterpreted, most likely due to Christopher’s failure to perceive a shift in the policeman’s gaze. Christopher’s inability to recognize this key signal sets him up for a mistake.

     Bailenson describes a study in which subjects were presented with agents that either mimicked their motions or did not, with results that indicated the importance of mimicry in social situations: “The participants rated mimicking agents as more persuasive than the other agents, but also rated them as more credible, trustworthy, and intelligent.” This correlation likely holds true for a character like Christopher. His insufficient mind-reading toolkit strikes a double blow: not only is he handicapped in his ability to discern the emotions of others by their facial expression or nonverbal movements, but he also alienates himself by failing to engage in mutual mind-reading interactions such as eye contact.

     This has severe implications for his fate in the novel, setting him up for many challenges that a typical person would never encounter. Haddon renders these moments of miscommunication with the sparest detail, and yet makes their ramifications glaringly obvious. The relationship can be carried beyond the novel as well. People with autism spectrum disorders—or, even in the absence of a diagnosis, people with trouble maintaining eye contact and other such gestures—are at a double disadvantage. The implications of this may point toward, if nothing else, a necessary push for awareness and empathy; we may be hard-wired to prefer eye contact, but understanding and accepting those who don’t is the first step toward inviting them into a previously inaccessible social world.

Blowing Air Through the Nose: Haddon's Subtle Mind Reading

“Mind reading is the name of a capacity that most humans (and perhaps some other primates) possess as well as the name of the emerging field within cognitive psychology devoted to studying it—a field burgeoning with new books, research papers, and think pieces. Most of the research has come from the fields of child development and autism research since mind reading is relatively easy to measure: children develop mind reading skills in predictable stages, and many autistics seem to lack mind reading capacities.” – Blakey Vermeule, “The Cognitive Dimension” (p. 34)

“Siobhan also says that if you close your mouth and breathe out loudly through your nose, it can mean that you are relaxed, or that you are bored, or that you are angry, and it all depends on how much air comes out of your nose and how fast and what shape your mouth is when you do it and how you are sitting and what you said just before and hundreds of other things which are too complicated to work out in a few seconds.” – Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (p. 15)

     In many ways, the first half of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time serves as a diagnosis for its main character Christopher, who evidently has some kind of autism spectrum disorder. In chapters that often alternate between plot development and character insight, Christopher narrates several episodes that could be taken right out of a textbook.

     For example, he tells the story of when he was younger and a teacher performed the classic Theory of Mind test on him by hiding a pencil inside a Smarties tube and asking him what his mother would think was inside the tube. Christopher says, “When I was little I didn’t understand about other people having minds” (116). He admits to still having trouble with this, but by applying logic and his acute memory, he is able to guess at what people are thinking by what they are saying or doing.

     Haddon also uses these episodes to comment on the way non-autistic people view the world. The novel, as told from Christopher’s point of view, functions as a vehicle for empathy, and Christopher’s insights often point out flaws in human thinking as well as illuminate similarities between his mind and those of other people. After describing how he approached developing his own Theory of Mind by picturing minds as computers, he goes on to illustrate how brains really are like computers: “People think they’re not computers because they have feelings and computers don’t have feelings. But the feelings are just having a picture on the screen in your head of what is going to happen tomorrow or next year, or what might have happened instead of what did happen, and if it is a happy picture they smile and if it is a sad picture they cry” (119). In this way, Haddon subtly reflects these themes back at his readers, attempting to prompt a level of introspection comparable to Christopher’s.

     One of the most fascinating devices Haddon utilizes to both develop Christopher’s condition and communicate with the reader is the image of people blowing air. In the passage excerpted above, Christopher outlines how difficult it is for him to perform mind reading on this physical gesture with his impaired Theory of Mind capabilities. Here, Haddon highlights the immense debt that non-autistic people owe to their neural networks. As Vermeule points out in her article, we are mostly unaware of our mind reading operations because they are ingrained and automatic. By enumerating the difficulties posed by attempting to mind read with an abnormal neurological toolkit, Haddon seeks to create empathy for Christopher’s condition as well as invite the reader to consider his or her own condition.

     The air-blowing motif serves this dual role throughout the novel, cropping up in several places to draw attention to Christopher’s lack of mind reading and signal to the reader that unobserved emotions are at play.

     For example, when Christopher is being questioned at the police station, his blunt honesty complicates the interview—another embedded comment by Haddon on our social interactions and the lies we tell about our intentions—the interrogator is described in the following way: “The policeman closed his mouth and breathed out loudly through his nose” (18). Christopher narrates this observation without comment, but it alerts the mind-reading reader that he is exasperated with Christopher’s inability to cooperate properly.

     Later, after Christopher and his father have returned home and Christopher asks his father if he is sad about Wellington: “He looked at me for a long time and sucked air in through his nose. Then he said, ‘Yes, Christopher, you could say that’” (21). Clearly, Haddon intends here for the reader to understand that a concealed emotion is at play; we recognize the lie, even if Christopher doesn’t.

     Instances such as these pepper the novel. Mrs. Alexander “suck[s] in a big breath” two different times when Christopher questions her about Mr. Shears (57-58). His father does it again when he comes clean about his affair (121). These situations provide glimpses into the minds of characters beyond the scope of Christopher’s point of view. While he does not have access to their minds, through Haddon’s adroit use of body language imagery, the readers do. In this way, Haddon not only highlights Christopher’s handicaps and generates empathy for his protagonist, but he also illustrates how Christopher affects those around him in powerful and emotional ways.