Glen Duncan has been hailed by the Times Literary Supplement (London) as one of Britain's twenty best young novelists, alongside such writers as Hari Kunzru and Zadie Smith. His new novel, I, Lucifer -- shortlisted for the Geoffrey Faber Award -- is a satirical tour de force fueled by a scorching, hyper-intelligent wit that burns up the pages. The End is nigh, and the Prince of Darkness has been given one last shot at redemption, if he can manage to live out a reasonably blameless life on earth. As a trial run, he negotiates a month of "trying without buying" in the body of struggling writer Declan Gunn. ("Incarnation, the angelic drug of choice. Unlike cocaine, not to be sniffed at.") Luce seizes the opportunity to binge on earthly delights, to straighten the biblical record (Adam, it's hinted, was a misguided variation on the Eve design), to celebrate his favorite achievements (Elton John, for one), and to try to get his screenplay sold, but the experience of walking among us isn't what His Majesty expected: instead of teaching us what it's like to be him, Lucifer finds himself understanding what it's like to be human.