Christopher's Dream Car

Ted McGee is an associate professor of English at St. Jerome’s
College, University of Waterloo.

A dilapidated old van parked out behind Christopher’s grandfather’s
barn—that’s Christopher’s dream car. When Christopher, a boy of
seven or eight, visits his grandparents during summer vacations, he
seeks out the abandoned vehicle—which, fuelled by his imagination,
provides him with adventures. Like the dream of Jacob Two-Two,
Christopher’s imaginary journey empowers him. Independent,
self-reliant, and accompanied only by his grandmother’s cat, he
rescues a new-found friend, successfully markets candied tomatoes,
travels to an exotic land, and (all by himself now) returns home
safely—even in time for supper. Both the ornateness of the typeface
and the lack of definition of Greve’s watercolors—particularly the
panoramas—enhance the fantastical atmosphere.

What gives Greve’s story its charm and warmth, however, is the
boy’s love for his grandparents and theirs for him. There is nothing
sentimental about their relationship. Christopher’s grandparents do
not let him do everything he wants, but his grandmother serves up his
favorite dessert and his grandfather is the one person who understands
that Christopher’s dream car takes him to “pretty exciting
places.” For his part, Christopher, given his keen desire to see his
dream car again, admits that he feels impatient with his grandfather’s
driving and “just a bit eager to get away from Gramma’s hugs and
kisses.” The unaffected portrayal of the boy, evident in this
impatience, is epitomized by his abiding interest in meals.

My six-year-old daughter, whose interest in cars is virtually
nonexistent, remains emphatic: “Christopher’s Dream Car—that’s a
good story.” And so we have read it, and reread it, and reread it, and
shall happily do so again.