On reading the opening a second time, I found the first chapters to be the same prelude for an emotional tour-de-force, the feeling that never left me the first time I read the opening at someone's house. Then I read part of a short story by Flannery O'Connor -- an accidental comparison.
Mark Haddon has written quite a few books for children, so my desire for a complex satire of binary thinking was expecting too much. The protagonist's voice even got repetitive towards the end, but the book started off so well.
It is ironic that we readers, like the protagonist, can't see any faces or metaphors and try to follow along anyway.