Everyone remembers the peach. It’s hard to forget a house-sized fruit rolling over two cruel aunts and crushing them into the dirt. But when you actually sit down and read Roald Dahl’s 1961 classic, or watch the 1996 Henry Selick film, the magic isn't just in the fruit. It's in the bugs. Specifically, it's in the loudmouthed, bragging, surprisingly soulful James and the Giant Peach Centipede.
He’s a lot.
Centipede is the guy who thinks he’s the smartest person in the room while simultaneously tripping over his own feet—or in this case, his forty-two boots. If James is the soul of the story and the Old Green Grasshopper is the brain, Centipede is undoubtedly the ego. He’s abrasive. He’s rude. Honestly, he’s kind of a jerk for the first three chapters. But without his brashness, that peach never leaves the garden.
The Anatomy of a Legend (and a Few Lies)
Let’s get the math out of the way first. One of the funniest running gags in both the book and the movie involves Centipede’s obsession with his legs. He constantly screams about having a hundred legs. He sings songs about them. He makes James spend hours—actual hours—polishing forty-two boots.
Wait. Forty-two?
Yeah. In the book, he’s technically a centipede, but Dahl loves to play with the absurdity of the "hundred legs" myth. In the 1996 Disney film, voiced by the incomparable Richard Dreyfuss, he’s even more specific about his identity. He’s a "pest." He’s a "rapscallion." He is a Brooklyn-accented fast-talker who treats the journey like a heist movie.
There’s a specific grit to the James and the Giant Peach Centipede that you don't see in modern children's characters. He isn't "nice." He doesn't start the book wanting to be James's friend. He calls James "the little beast" and "the worm." He represents that specific Roald Dahl archetype: the flawed, grumpy adult-figure who eventually learns that children aren't actually the enemy.
Why the 1996 Movie Changed Him
If you grew up with the movie, you probably remember Centipede as a cigar-chomping, leather-jacket-wearing tough guy. This was a massive departure from the original Quentin Blake illustrations. In the book, he’s more of a dandy. He’s obsessed with his boots because they represent his status.
In the film, the stakes are higher. The Centipede is the one who dives into the freezing Atlantic water to fight off the mechanical shark. This scene is pivotal. It’s the moment where the James and the Giant Peach Centipede stops being a comic relief character and becomes a hero. He risks his life for a boy he barely knew forty-eight hours prior.
He’s also the one who creates the most friction with the Miss Spider character. Their dynamic—a mix of mutual respect and constant bickering—gives the story its "found family" energy. It’s messy. It’s loud. It’s real.
The "Cloud-Men" Incident and Centipede's Big Mouth
You can't talk about the Centipede without talking about the Cloud-Men. This is one of the darkest, weirdest parts of the book that the movie mostly glossed over. While floating through the sky, the Centipede—being a total idiot—starts insulting the Cloud-Men. He calls them "shrivelled-up old onions" and "nasty little beasts."
It nearly gets them all killed.
The Cloud-Men start hurling giant hailstones at the peach. They try to climb aboard. The Centipede gets hit, he gets bruised, and for the first time, he actually shuts up. It’s a crucial narrative beat. It shows that his bravado is a shield. Underneath all that talk about being a "great traveler" and "the most important insect in the world," he’s just as terrified as James is.
This is what makes him human. Or, well, arthropod-human.
Dahl used the Centipede to teach a lesson that most kids' books avoid: you can be a good person and still have a really annoying personality. He’s boastful. He’s a liar. He’s incredibly vain. Yet, when the peach is attacked by a swarm of sharks, he’s the one who organizes the defense. He’s the one who stands his ground.
The Logistics of 42 Boots
Let’s talk about those boots. Have you ever actually thought about the logistics of putting on forty-two boots?
- James has to lace them.
- Centipede has to keep them clean.
- They have to find replacements when one falls off.
In the climax of the story, when the peach finally lands on the tip of the Empire State Building, the Centipede’s boots become a symbol of his transformation. In the book, he actually becomes a high-level executive for a major boot manufacturer. It’s a hilarious, perfect ending. He turned his biggest insecurity and his biggest vanity into a career.
It’s also worth noting the specific artistry of the stop-motion puppet used in the '96 film. The animators at Skellington Productions gave him these incredibly expressive, buggy eyes and a mouth that never seemed to stop moving. He was designed to look slightly dirty—like a guy who’s spent too much time under a damp log and is proud of it.
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Centipede's Role in the "Found Family"
Modern literary analysis often looks at James and the Giant Peach through the lens of childhood trauma. James loses his parents and is raised by abusive guardians. The insects aren't just bugs; they are archetypes of the people James needed in his life.
- The Old Green Grasshopper: The grandfatherly mentor.
- The Ladybug: The maternal, nurturing figure.
- The Spider: The cool, misunderstood older sister.
- The Earthworm: The anxious, neurotic sibling.
- The Centipede: The wild, unpredictable uncle.
Centipede is the one who teaches James about courage. Not the "knight in shining armor" kind of courage, but the "I'm scared out of my mind but I'm going to talk big and do it anyway" kind of courage. He’s the first one to call out Aunts Sponge and Spiker. He’s the one who encourages James to think for himself.
The Legacy of a Pest
Why does the James and the Giant Peach Centipede still resonate today?
Honestly? Because he’s funny.
Most children’s literature in the 60s was still very "proper." Characters were either good or bad. Dahl broke that mold by making his "good guys" kind of gross and grumpy. The Centipede eats disgusting things. He smells. He screams. He’s the antithesis of a Disney Prince.
But he’s loyal.
When the peach finally reaches New York and the journey ends, the Centipede doesn't just disappear. He thrives. Whether it's the book version (becoming a VP of a shoe company) or the movie version (living in the giant peach pit in Central Park), he finds his place. He proves that even the most annoying "pest" in the garden has value if you give them a chance to show it.
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Actionable Takeaways for Your Next Re-read or Watch
If you're revisiting this story with your kids or just for the sake of nostalgia, keep a few things in mind to get the most out of Centipede's arc.
Watch the "Family" Dynamics
Notice how Centipede treats the Earthworm. They bicker constantly, but Centipede is the first to defend him when things get dangerous. It’s a classic sibling dynamic that Dahl nails perfectly.
Count the Boots
In the film, count how many times they actually show his feet. It’s a nightmare of animation that the creators pulled off flawlessly. The sheer amount of work required to animate a character with that many moving parts is staggering.
Listen to the Lyrics
If you’re watching the movie, pay close attention to the song "Eating the Peach." Centipede’s verses are the most boastful and ridiculous, highlighting his role as the group's "hype man."
Check the Original Illustrations
Find a copy of the book with Quentin Blake’s art. Compare that lanky, bug-eyed version of the Centipede with the New York "wiseguy" version from the movie. It’s a great study in how character design can change the entire feel of a story without changing the dialogue.
The Centipede is more than just a bug with a lot of shoes. He’s a reminder that being loud doesn't mean you're empty, and being grumpy doesn't mean you don't care. He is, and always will be, the undisputed star of the peach.