The Humans: A Novel

I read a lot of books, one or two a week. I don't tend to review them because I know my reactions are personal, and attempting to assign a number of stars is torturous. However, every year or so, one truly stands out for me and I find myself recommending it to everyone I know. A couple of years ago, it was *Defending Jacob* by William Landay. In the past year, it was *The Humans* by Matt Haig.I was initially interested in reading *The Humans* because the topic reminded me of "3rd Rock From The Sun", one of my all-time favorite TV sitcoms (at least the first season). Both premises are based on an outsider's interpretation of the human condition. The TV show was hilarious; this book is less so, but it has its moments. It is basically the story of an alien coming to earth on a serious mission. However, I found myself laughing almost to tears at one point as the alien was attempting to interpret a dog's conversation based on facial expressions since he couldn't decipher the dog's spoken language. The scene involves peanut butter. The alien has never experienced joy. Then on earth he discovers music! He is mesmerized by Debussy, feeling he has captured all the most beautiful aspects of the universe in his music ... but, then, wow, the alien hears the Beach Boys! And discovers the aforementioned peanut butter! And poetry! Etc. Mainly it is about what it is to be human and how it is our mortality that makes happiness possible. At one point the alien marvels that he has said "me" -- it has always before been "we". (That was thrilling.) I have inspired at least a dozen friends to read this book, and so far I think everyone likes or loves it, but for all different reasons. Some liked the collectivist vs. individual aspect, like I did. Some liked the human joy aspect, as I also did. One friend was just thrilled with all the wise observations that the alien made, his unique point of view. Another was tickled by all the Emily Dickenson quotes and references, most not attributed, and most of which, I must admit, I missed. One friend chose it for his book club, and said it was a success, both because people liked it and because it inspired lively discussion.Be aware that the novel starts slowly and is rather dark. I wasn't liking it at first, and others said the same thing. My cousin put it aside for several weeks, not enjoying it, then picked it back up one day, and stayed up most of the night with it, enthralled. The alien isn't likeable. His mission is to murder. But once the story is set, it is a compelling read, and one I will revisit. It is an easy read, but interesting and thought-provoking, at times touching, at times profound. The idea that mortality is essential to human happiness is not a theme often explored. The book is a paean to human happiness.

All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event--in the living act, the undoubted deed - there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask!Herman MelvilleFirst off, let me say that I kind of liked the book. It was a sweet (if slightly sappy) love story about a godlike creature from beyond the stars that gave up immortality for love – the love of a woman, the love of the “finite spaces” that make up the story. A little like City of Angels…But what truly ignited my interest was in the afterward. The author says he got the idea for the book during a period in his life punctuated by anxiety attacks. These “spells” are characterized by a sense of unreality, dissociation and a whole host of physical symptoms. But what really makes these episodes “special” is the unrelenting perception of a meaningless universe.We’ve all heard about the ravages of bipolar disorder or the crippling effects of schizophrenia. But in panic disorder, one looks at the world through a telescope backwards. You see everything projected in your eye in all its tininess and everything means nothing. You are a dust speck looking out on an infinite, meaningless space. There’s no value, no “reasoning thing” – good or evil – that lies behind that pasteboard façade.But the book asserts otherwise. It takes the position of the Melville quote. The main character breaks through the façade of time and distance to find “the reasoning thing.” And that was apparently love, family and a sense of belonging. Perhaps that was the author’s wish, to live in such a world.The issue of mathematical truth plays an interesting counterpoint to this position. The main character was sent to earth to erase all traces of a proof of the Riemann hypothesis developed by a Cambridge mathematician. The idea is that the proof could unlock a torrent of scientific advancement that would propel an an immature, violent species into the stars sowing havoc along the way. So the proof had to be erased, and the man and his family as well.Anyone who has worked in abstract mathematics knows its utter sterility. Are we really amazed to learn that there is some order to the placement of primes on the real number line? Think about the proof of the irrationality of the square root of two. Assertion that the root is rational leads to a fatal contradiction in the nature of reality. Is this meaning? It gets worse in physics, where the delusion of reality becomes broadened. According to the “Standard Model” the meaninglessness of phase in a wave function satisfying the quantum mechanical wave equation “requires” the existence of photons. But the thing of it is this. Photons exist, whether or not we know what necessity propels them into existence. If Einstein hadn't realized the equivalence of mass and energy, we'd still have atomic bombs - remember the Curies, Otto Hahn and Lise Meitner? The building blocks of destruction are at hand. We just have to pick them up and put them together.So the universe evolves out of necessities beyond human meaning, beyond human feeling. Is that the knowledge that drove Riemann, Cantor and their colleagues to madness? Probably not. More than likely, it was the necessity to concentrate so hard with such focus that something just snapped. Or, just maybe, people drawn to that line of work are, by nature, prone to panic disorder or have self-destructive tendencies to begin with.In any event, the book paints an alternate universe in which love and community are possible (though not assured.) Is this a fantasy, a pasteboard mask? I guess we all just have to puzzle that one out for ourselves. But if you look at it at this angle, the book transcends its somewhat worn plot line. It was worth the read.

I absolutely loved this book. This was such a different read from anything I've read before. Deep meaning, beautiful language. Just really devine.

This is a great book. A treatise on what it is to be human. Sweet, but not melodramatic or corny. With some science fiction.

I shouldn’t compare this to ‘The Midnight Library’, but I didn’t love ‘The Humans’ as much. I found the book filled with wise passages and observations, but the story was lengthy and monotonous at times. I wasn’t really invested in the alien’s story after entering the thick of the plot. I did find Gulliver’s storyline quite moving. I was also interested in Isobel, who represents countless women who have been relegated to the margins of history and the home. It’s a very well written book, it’s quirky (which I appreciate), but I was not engaged and often wondered off mentally while reading.