There's something quite amazing about Matt Haig. Whether it's his Twitter account, filled to the gunwales with wit, or his acerbic humour, he's a literary virtuoso as The Humans proves.
It's as amazing as its author: warm, hilarious, sagacious and, while I frequently hold back on using the word masterpiece, it just is. Haig is a thoroughbred of a writer and set the bar high for his next adult novel – though his YA brainchild Echo Boy, and past efforts, are superb.
Elements of Haig's book, for me, evoked the recent bone-chiller Under the Skin (with Scarlett Johansson and directed by Jonathan Glazer), an indelible, abstruse piece about an alien that inhabits the body of a beautiful woman and proceeds to bump off unwitting natives in rural Scotland. The two are uncannily similar – and Glazer's novel predates both Haig's creation and the movie, naturally – but The Humans has, as the title suggests, a more human touch.
Before he is possessed by an extraterrestrial (details regarding the alien are scarce, though he is contacted by his species, the Vonnadorians, if you would like to know, every few chapters in straight, unadorned dialogue) Professor Andrew Martin already has problems – all of them occurring at home. His wife, Isobel is starting to resent him and he's completely estranged from his embittered son, all due to his workaholism. It turns out that having his soul obliterated and his body taken over by a Vonnadorian is the greatest thing to happen to Professor Andrew Martin in his short lifetime.
But why him? Well, the main thing that he was working on before he passed away, was a crucial mathematical riddle that potentially endangered the planet. Naturally, they dispatched a delegate to dispatch Professor Andrew Martin, replace him and then slaughter anyone else that knows the answer to the conundrum.
Much of the book is about the Vonnadorian struggling to comprehend much of mankind's idiosyncrasies – or what we would describe as normal, mundane things. He questions the use of a dog, music, the purpose of alcohol consumption, social networking, and why it's necessary to phone your mum every so often. Haig, a conventional human (or so we think. Judging by the profound insight he shows in The Humans, I think we ought to send a squad of men in white hazmat suits to his house – or spaceship), shines a spotlight on humanity, humorously picking apart the tics of our race.
Things start to go a bit awry (not the writing; Haig maintains a beautiful, simplistic style throughout – but the Vonnadorians' scheme) when the Vonnadorian in question discovers that he is connecting to Isobel in a way he did not think possible, thus prospectively jeopardising the mission. He also finds himself engaging with Professor Andrew Martin, or 'his' son, Gulliver, a teenage tearaway that is attempting "academic suicide". In essence, possessed Professor Andrew Martin is a considerably better father and husband than the original Professor Andrew Martin.
You could say that the lead is something of an antihero but the narrative device of showing everything through the Vonnadorian's eyes works in Haig's favour. We sympathise with the alien, despite him initially following his remit closely, and his amazement at certain things is very amusing. But while there is oodles of humour, expect plenty of tears too because Haig doesn't let us get away that easily.
While The Humans is one of Matt Haig's books squarely directed at adults, it's accessible to a younger audience and could be marketed in the late teens bracket (though he has produced the likes of Shadow Forest and Runaway Troll, two quite marvellous children's novels I thoroughly suggest you seek out). Matt Haig is a supreme talent and a writer to cherish, and The Humans is undoubtedly his magnum opus.
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