They came from nowhere, and now they are everywhere.
A few months after her mother dies, the novelist Naomi Alderman sets up a wildlife camera in the back garden of her parents’ home. It captures the first image of a strange new animal. Low to the ground, about the size of a badger, flat face, long, trunk-like nose. Suddenly these “mimmoths” are as common as foxes or dogs. And no one knows where they’ve come from.
As Alderman negotiates the territory of grief – a place with its own logic and rhythms – the mimmoths spread. From the UK east and west, to the United States, to Russia, to India. They seem harmless, but oddly intelligent. They cannot be captured, they will not take food from humans, they have their own purposes.
Alderman cannot shake the feeling that she has a particular connection to the creatures. Or is she just succumbing to ‘mimmoth psychosis’? As the impact of the mimmoths increases, she is pulled into the cross currents of conspiracy theories and global power struggles. Have her deeply personal forms of mourning lent recent events a surreal air, or is our reality changing drastically and irrevocably?
From the award-winning author of the international bestseller, The Power, The Strangers is a thrillingly original and devastatingly moving novel that blurs the lines between fiction and reality, inviting us to reconsider what it means to be human. It’s like nothing you’ll have read before.
Naomi Alderman (born 1974 in London) is a British author and novelist.
Alderman was educated at South Hampstead High School and Lincoln College, Oxford where she read Philosophy, Politics and Economics. She then went on to study creative writing at the University of East Anglia before becoming a novelist. She was the lead writer for Perplex City, an Alternate reality game, at Mind Candy from 2004 through June, 2007.[1] Her father is Geoffrey Alderman, an academic who has specialised in Anglo-Jewish history. She and her father were interviewed in The Sunday Times "Relative Values" feature on 11 February 2007.[2]
Her literary debut came in 2006 with Disobedience, a well-received (if controversial) novel about a rabbi's daughter from North London who becomes a lesbian, which won her the 2006 Orange Award for New Writers. Since its publication in the United Kingdom, it has been issued in the USA, Germany, Israel, Holland, Poland and France and is due to be published in Italy, Hungary and Croatia. She wrote the narrative for The Winter House, an online, interactive yet linear short story visualized by Jey Biddulph. The project was commissioned by Booktrust as part of the Story campaign, supported by Arts Council England. [3]
The Strangers by Naomi Alderman ended up being a much more personal and emotional read than I ever expected. Going into it, I thought I was picking up a science fiction novel with an intriguing premise and speculative elements. And while those elements are certainly present, what I actually found was a deeply meaningful story about grief, acceptance, memory, and the difficult process of moving forward after loss.
This book hit especially close to home for me because my own mother passed away only several months ago, and so much of the protagonist’s emotional journey felt painfully real. Alderman captures grief in a way that feels honest and deeply human. It’s not melodramatic or exaggerated. Instead, it’s quiet, messy, confusing, and ever-present in the background of daily life. There were moments in this book that genuinely resonated with me on a deeply personal level, especially the way the main character struggles with holding onto the past while simultaneously trying to figure out how to continue living in the present.
What impressed me most was how seamlessly Alderman balances the speculative aspects of the story with its emotional core. The science fiction elements never overshadow the characters or the themes. Instead, they enhance them, acting as a lens through which the story explores identity, memory, and human connection. The “what if?” at the center of the novel is fascinating, but it’s the emotional consequences of that premise that really make the book memorable.
The writing itself is thoughtful and immersive. Alderman has a way of creating characters who feel fully realized, flawed, and relatable. The dialogue felt natural, and the introspective passages carried a lot of emotional weight without ever feeling heavy-handed.
I also appreciated how the novel doesn’t offer easy answers. Grief is complicated, and The Strangers understands that. It acknowledges that healing doesn’t happen in a straight line and that acceptance doesn’t mean forgetting. There’s sadness throughout the book, but also warmth, understanding, and ultimately hope.
By the end, I realized this wasn’t really a science fiction novel in the way I had expected. It’s a story about loss and humanity first, with speculative fiction woven thoughtfully into its DNA. And honestly, I think that’s what made it so powerful for me.
Part memoir, part speculative fiction, The Strangers was an odd read. Alderman bares her soul and all the tragedy she has endured (the death of her mom after a protracted illness, many miscarriages, the psychological aftershocks of the Covid pandemic) in the way of a memoir. However, the presence of a strange, intelligent, kind species dubbed mimmoths and how the world reacts to them take the book into the realm of autofiction.
I'm still ruminating on this one! I found it deeply affecting, both as a memoir and a work of science fiction metaphor. The interplay between these two elements was stronger in some places than others. Alderman's prose was masterful and journal-esque, though at times her metaphors were so on the nose I found myself grimacing (but this is nothing new - for all that I loved The Power, she was similarly blunt in her metaphors there).
Overall, I found the book deeply sad. I, too, find the state of the world maddening, frightening, and often disheartening, but the ending of the book, in which Alderman allows the mimmoths to shunt the man who has figured out what they are doing (in essence, trying to redirect humanity by controlling populations who try to harm mimmoths) into a reality where he never researched them at all left me with mixed feelings. Are we so lost that it would be better to cede control to a (by all appearances) smarter species than we? I find calls for population control to fall in line with fascist rhetoric and eugenicists, no matter which parts of the population a person is calling to control.
Hard to recommend this one. I imagine Alderman's opinions are shared by many people, but I am not one of them. I prefer to be more hopeful about humanity.
The Strangers features an interesting sci-fi concept, a complex narrator, and clear, unaffected writing, but is bogged down by unnecessary navel-gazing.
As much as I love the idea of the mimmoths, I found the execution mostly lacking. The narrator put me off for quite a few reasons, and I just couldn’t get into the big focus on family dynamics, personal losses, and various psychological hang-ups. The way it’s approached here is just plain uninteresting, and as far as devices go, jarringly unoriginal both in the context of the story’s setup and its genre.
I feel a bit bad for thinking so, given how autobiographical those parts seem, but if that’s the case, perhaps it’s why they're interesting to the author and not to me. Either way, it’s disappointing; the wonderful sci-fi weirdness of the mimmoths is already balanced, and enhanced, by the accompanying cultural commentary. Those parts are interesting and prescient, mostly - though painfully, neoliberally preachy at times, and that’s to say of nothing of a bizarre bit of throwaway Elon Musk apologia, or awkward attempts to gloss over the genocide in Gaza - and fit well alongside the mimmoth plotline. I can see how some personal elements are still needed to, you know, characterize the character; it’s just that the particular elements chosen here don’t work for me at all. Anytime anything interesting happens, the momentum is immediately undercut by flashbacks, recollections, and musings only relevant to the narrator’s grief journey, and not to the good bits at hand.
If you enjoy memoirs and magical realism, you might enjoy this too, but if you’re looking for fresh, story-driven sci-fi, The Strangers isn’t it. There’s a lot of potential here, but next to no payoff.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC!
I guess I'd have to say that I appreciated it, but didn't necessarily like it all that much.
Couched within a fictional science fiction tale about strange creatures that suddenly appear on earth is a deeply personal study on grief and mourning, peppered with what appear to be autobiographical details. I truly hope that it was cathartic to the author and it certainly reads as intimate, but it's also heavy and unyielding.
Our mimmiths struck me as very precious...and I don't love precious. I do think other readers will love them and love what they represent, but they simply didn't strike the intended chord with me.
In the end, it felt very much like the author was going through something intense and personal, but it never really felt like she got where she needed to be.
The book certainly made me sad. It also felt like something that was not meant to be shared.
Reading this book on Mother's Day was maybe the best/worst choice I could have made. Utterly breathtaking, with Margaret Atwood (a la Oryx and Crake) by way of Emily St. John Mandel yet utterly, unabashedly new and real in its take on motherhood, memory, loss, and rebirth.