Review of K.E. Flann’s How to Survive a Human Attack: A Guide for Werewolves, Mummies, Cyborgs, Ghosts, Nuclear Mutants, and Other Movie Monsters (Intended for non-human audiences only)

by M. M. Porter

How to Survive a Human Attack: A Guide for Werewolves, Mummies, Cyborgs, Ghosts, Nuclear Mutants, and Other Movie Monsters
by K.E. Flann
Running Press, $15.99 paperback, 256 pages

I must start with the disclaimer that I am a Witch and as such am allowed to note the many secrets hidden within this novel. If you are (unfortunately) human, stop reading, as the author, K. E. Flann’s debut novel states, “The audience for this guide is implicit in its title. Please take care not to leave it lying around” (5).

And it is implicit in its title, for it is meant, first and foremost, for the monsters who fear extinction or are unable to co-exist with such an animal as the human. For example, as a Witch, I found it helpful to flip to pages 120-133 and read “The 6(66) Habits of Highly Effective Witches: Powerful Lessons in Survival Management.” There, I learned helpful tips such as how to banish the “win-win” paradox because “if you don’t stand up for yourself, you are a patsy. If you do, you’re a monster. In this regard, there is no winning. You might as well please yourself” (125). What a way to learn empowerment while getting in a few free spells at the end. I can only suspect that other monsters have as much to learn from their guides as I did in mine.

Flann’s second person address survival guide takes you on a guided tour of all the foolish things humans do such as “lounge up to 19 hours a day, with little of that time spent sleeping” (15) and having gone bold almost everywhere “they began to stitch together the skins of other creatures in the manner of serial killers, and to wear them as cloaks to protect against the elements.” (14) to explaining that “humans sometimes berate fellow humans on whom their very survival may depend, even in spite of the fact that they cannot put spells on anyone.” (128) A splendid illustration of how to begin to unravel the mysteries of human habits.

She begins with “Part 1: Understanding Humans” which is altogether challenging and proceeds to “Part 2: Species-Specific Survival Guide” addressing in sections those all-important questions such as how swamp monsters perform make-overs or how vampires might learn to use the internet. These parts are followed by 3 appendixes filled with essential information on humans and their temperament. An unusual but highly rewarding format for such an in-depth novel.

Putting myself, begrudgingly, into the shoes of a human, that is to say if a human did in fact pick up this guide, I imagine that they would laugh (for it is rather full of humor) before realizing that they are the butt of the joke. 206 pages in you’ll learn that becoming an influencer is the only way for a vampire to make friends and refrain from eating said friends. Imagine the humility of such a satire when considering that a human influencer (unless they are perhaps a notable cannibal) has no life-threatening reason to make friends online. I suppose COVID may apply here, but I digress, it is still funny.

Continuing this guise of thinking like a human one might read the section entitled “The Benefits of Collaborative Consumption: A New Employee Handbook for Swarms, Flocks, Schools, Droves, Broods, Colonies, Murders, and Hordes” as an in depth analysis on the problematic system of capitalism. For example, while it may be true for wasps that “a group is only as successful as its commitment not to concern itself with individuals. It is crucial to learn to function as one unrelenting unit. By adhering to the guidelines here, you can help to ensure that this organization remains unified” (171) it is inherently problematic for humans to put Walmart before their own health. That is to say, Flann masterfully points out the problem of a society that does not care for the individual but rather the conglomerate, and while the survival of the species is essential so too is a human’s individual right to live and concern themselves with living well.

Throughout this unusual novel, we are given bold headings, charts, illustrations, blank lines for the use of monsters looking to improve their feeding or hiding habits. This book never loses momentum, giving the reader something new to explore and examine on every page.

Though not intended for human eyes, but for the monster community’s survival, I must admit that Flann writes with a wit and awareness of human society that would shock and astound homo sapiens. This book touches on everything from a how to guide on computers, to the value of friendships, public speaking, mucus, hyperbole, immigration, healthy habits, home safety and more.

The author employs a matter-of-fact tone that mimics those of other survival guides but pushes the boundaries of this genre through challenging the accidental human reader into confronting their behavior. Defying your expectations of where humans live going from “New York, Egypt, and The Scottish Moors to Enchanted Lands, Main Street, and The Past” (8). Flann has a habit of comforting the reader with the predictable while sliding in surprising and original commentary that keeps you on your toes.

A satire for adults, a wild imagining for children, and an instruction manual to the macabre, Flann has created a wonderful laughter that leaves one questioning society as a whole once the smile fades and the book is closed.

 

 

 


Managing Editor MADDY PORTER is a poet and writer originally from Traverse City, Michigan. She is currently an MFA candidate in poetry at UNC Greensboro where she serves as an Editorial Assistant for The Greensboro Review.