How to Pass as Human
“. . . most guys lie about the nature of their reality because they want to get in my pants. Being told by your creator—uh, I mean, father—that you’d better not tell anyone you’re not human is slightly more forgivable.”
Android Zed, or “Zach,” as he chooses to be called, is a machine with a problem. He’s activated by The Technician in a laboratory in Las Vegas, Nevada, and given strict instructions not to tell anyone that he is not human. His inner power source is diminishing incrementally each day; by the end of one month, he will be “dead.” It is only by passing as human that he can be assured of meeting his maker and being saved.
Nic Kelman’s How to Pass as Human is presented as a combination instruction manual (allegedly written by Zach) and diary of Zach’s first month of life.
The instruction manual portion of the book is a sometimes sly, sometimes troubling look at humanity through the eyes of a true outsider. Beginning with how humans perceive their world through the senses, Zach informs future androids of the best way in which they, too, can pass as human.
In seemingly random fashion, Kelman has Zach document what he sees around him, from the vagaries of fashion and design to humanity’s rocky relationship with work and wages. Religion comes under the microscope, as do topics like leisure, humor, and reproductive behavior.
Kelman turns a laser eye on the myriad contradictions within our relationships with each other and with the things around us; this is often humorous. What isn’t so funny are the many instances of gender stereotyping embedded within the “manual.” For a being that the reader is told is unbiased by societal stereotypes, Zach presents troubling ideas of what males and females appreciate and do with their time. Presenting a “male” room as having sports memorabilia while a “female” room is covered in stuffed animals? Men are presented with tools, while women get cookware? These are pointlessly sexist anachronisms.
The second part of the book consists of a narrative of Zach’s twenty-two days spent searching for his creator and trying to stay incognito as an android. During this time, he must find and fit in at a job and find living accommodations. Guided by mysterious text messages, he wends through confusing (to him) conversations and learns to be lazy at work to get along.
Luckily for him, he meets a human girl that’s almost as precise and mechanical as he is. Midway through the book, the narrative turns from descriptions of Zach’s life to become an action novel. Zach begins to actively search for the Technician who activated him, and for the Creator who can presumably give him more life. He is pursued by the Hidden-Eye men, and must find a way to stay out of their clutches.
It is the interspersion of the information manual into the body of the narrative that keeps How to Pass as Human from shining. Just as the story begins to chug along (and it is a push to get past the stilted “android” sentence structure and observations), it jerks to a stop with an information passage that often has little to do with the story at hand. This is especially noticeable as the book progresses. At the beginning, Zach’s story of finding a house and a job mesh well with information on human habitats and work life, but it becomes harder going when at one instant Zach is running for his life and at the turn of the page he is writing about alcohol or religion.
Troublesome, too, is the language in the novel. In the initial pages, Zach informs the reader that he is programmed with all applicable language, emotional, and sensory functions; why, then, does he have so much trouble using or understanding basic English words? Why are so many words edged with quotation marks, indicating that they are unfamiliar? The dialogue is undistinguished.
How to Pass as Human is an attempt to capture the current interest in robots and science fiction, but its success is mixed. As a narrative about the adventure (and, less successfully, romance) of a newborn android, it is a light and undemanding story. As an “information guide” to humanity in general, it’s sometimes wickedly funny and sometimes borderline misogynistic.
Put together, though, the successful aspects of both genres of writing are overshadowed by the unsuccessful aspects. The information guide aspect of the novel is similar to Max Brooks’ Zombie Survival Guide; the narrative, with its inner monologue and vivid visuals but weaker dialogue, might perhaps have been more successful in a graphic novel format. Perhaps Dark Horse Books (a subsidiary of Dark Horse Comics) will consider splitting them up in a future edition.