Book Review: Humphrey and Jack by Ian Thomson

It’s almost impossible to write about Humphrey and Jack without giving spoiler alerts every two sentences, so closely are plot, character and theme woven. So, after this, there are no further alerts.

The plot is deceptively simple: an embittered retired lecturer befriends a semi-delinquent youth and both are redeemed. However, the character and social shading of the book are remarkable, and readers are treated to 300+ pages of Thomson’s elegant writing.

And here lies part of the skill of the novel: the characters reveal themselves and evolve through action and dialogue, not through the author’s narrative and commentary on the psychological aspects of what is going on. This makes the reader think about what he is reading, which many readers will find too great an effort – but then, they don’t deserve the rewards.

Readers are seduced into cosy cynicism with the early encounters with “the Evangelists” a group of grumpy old men who meet in a pub and have ritual rants about the state of the world in general and individuals in particular. Thomson contrasts these very amusing but shallow social commentaries with the genuine communications between Humphrey and Jack.

At first, the contrast is ironic as neither Humphrey nor Jack are particularly likeable at the beginning of the book. Part of Thomson’s skill is that he refrains from trying to make us like them before it is time, and then when our opinions shift, it is because of how they evolve, not what we are told about them. We watch both characters grow as they rescue each other: Humphrey helps Jack fulfil his academic potential, while Humphrey escapes from the inward, cynical life he has been leading to learn new things and set new goals.

This is a book about the redemptive power of friendship. Both Humphrey and Jack are better people for having encountered each other. Neither is perfect. Humphrey remains the product of his age and experience with the concomitant virtues and vices, as does Jack, but their shared love of learning, good food, companionship, humour and their partially shared view of the larger world brings them close.

The supporting characters are well observed, too. Hector and Althea emerge as true friends, as does his former student, Tom – all of whom are faithful allies when Humphrey’s life is suddenly turned upside-down.

Thomson handles his themes without stating them: the double edge of social media with its benefits of instant contact and the horrors of everything being preserved forever and taken out of context, and the corrosive effect of the media working in tandem with a police force under too much pressure to produce a quick result. Both are shown with all their lack of consideration and dehumanising power, and yield the salient lesson that our ability to embarrass ourselves has never been greater.

I am at a loss to find a book to compare Humphrey and Jack to; its combination of the contemporary with the traditional make it gratifyingly difficult to categorise. The writing is fluid and erudite – full of rewarding observations, allusions and jokes; it is also a challenging book that makes demands on the reader to think about what is going on and why. It is not a book for lazy readers but for those prepared to participate (like those prepared to invest in real friendships) the rewards are great.