What do you think?
Rate this book
Hum
From the National Book Award–longlisted author of The Need comes an extraordinary novel about a wife and mother who—after losing her job to AI—undergoes a procedure that renders her undetectable to surveillance…but at what cost?
In a city addled by climate change and populated by intelligent robots called “hums,” May loses her job to artificial intelligence. In a desperate bid to resolve her family’s debt and secure their future for another few months, she becomes a guinea pig in an experiment that alters her face so it cannot be recognized by surveillance.
Seeking some reprieve from her recent hardships and from her family’s addiction to their devices, she splurges on passes that allow them three nights’ respite inside the Botanical Garden: a rare green refuge where forests, streams, and animals flourish. But her insistence that her son, daughter, and husband leave their devices at home proves far more fraught than she anticipated, and the lush beauty of the Botanical Garden is not the balm she hoped it would be. When her children come under threat, May is forced to put her trust in a hum of uncertain motives as she works to restore the life of her family.
Written in taut, urgent prose, Hum is a work of speculative fiction that unflinchingly explores marriage, motherhood, and selfhood in a world compromised by global warming and dizzying technological advancement, a world of both dystopian and utopian possibilities. As New York Times bestselling author Jeff VanderMeer says, “Helen Phillips, in typical bravura fashion, has found a way to make visible uncomfortable truths about our present by interrogating the near-future.”
In a city addled by climate change and populated by intelligent robots called “hums,” May loses her job to artificial intelligence. In a desperate bid to resolve her family’s debt and secure their future for another few months, she becomes a guinea pig in an experiment that alters her face so it cannot be recognized by surveillance.
Seeking some reprieve from her recent hardships and from her family’s addiction to their devices, she splurges on passes that allow them three nights’ respite inside the Botanical Garden: a rare green refuge where forests, streams, and animals flourish. But her insistence that her son, daughter, and husband leave their devices at home proves far more fraught than she anticipated, and the lush beauty of the Botanical Garden is not the balm she hoped it would be. When her children come under threat, May is forced to put her trust in a hum of uncertain motives as she works to restore the life of her family.
Written in taut, urgent prose, Hum is a work of speculative fiction that unflinchingly explores marriage, motherhood, and selfhood in a world compromised by global warming and dizzying technological advancement, a world of both dystopian and utopian possibilities. As New York Times bestselling author Jeff VanderMeer says, “Helen Phillips, in typical bravura fashion, has found a way to make visible uncomfortable truths about our present by interrogating the near-future.”
262 pages, Hardcover
First published August 6, 2024
658 people are currently reading
47194 people want to read
About the author
Helen Phillips
14 books822 followersHelen Phillips is the author of five books, including, most recently, the novel THE NEED. Her collection SOME POSSIBLE SOLUTIONS received the 2017 John Gardner Fiction Book Award. Her novel THE BEAUTIFUL BUREAUCRAT, a New York Times Notable Book of 2015, was a finalist for the New York Public Library’s Young Lions Award and the Los Angeles Times Book Prize. Her collection AND YET THEY WERE HAPPY was named a Notable Book by the Story Prize. She is also the author of the children's adventure novel HERE WHERE THE SUNBEAMS ARE GREEN. Helen is the recipient of a Rona Jaffe Foundation Writers’ Award and the Italo Calvino Prize, among others. Her work has appeared in The Atlantic, the New York Times, and Tin House, and on Selected Shorts. She is an associate professor at Brooklyn College. www.helencphillips.com.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,975 reviews
September 20, 2024
This slim novel packs quite a punch, one I wasn't really expecting.
Speculative fiction can be hit or miss for me. The ones that miss tend to have extremely enticing premises, but when you look beneath the surface, there isn't much there. Hum is totally the opposite. I can't even explain what the premise is because it sounds so generic. The world is beset by climate change and capitalism gone awry, and a woman is trying to raise her kids and love them as best as she can in such a world. See, that doesn't really grab you, does it? And yet, there was so much more underneath the surface.
What makes this book so subversive isn't that the dystopian society presented in here is completely different from our current one. Rather, it's that it's almost the same. We need not look very far into the future—or even at all—to imagine that our lives could be like this. And that's what makes this so chilling.
Reading this, the disquiet and horror stole up on me slowly. At first, this seems like a dystopian world far from ours. In their world, capitalism runs amuck, constantly serving up ads and materialistic goods at the smallest sign of acquiesce. In their world, you must monitor air quality carefully and stay indoors during the bad days. In their world, everyone prefers the easy company of their "bunnies" and wooms to the complicated company of other humans. Except, oh wait...
And maybe part of the reason this hit me particularly hard is that I'm a mother to a young child, so I totally understand May's perspective. Her desire to disentangle her family from technology, all the while relying on its more useful parts, is a dilemma both familiar and unsolvable.
The only missed mark for me is perhaps the title of this book. I felt naming the story after the AI robots in here to be a bit of a misnomer. This story isn't about the hums at all. It's about us humans, and how far we are willing to go, how much of our humanity we are willing to sacrifice, in order to have everything we want at our technological fingertips.
Even though, like all speculative fiction, the world that's presented in here is just theoretical, it certainly feels much more than that. There's a prescience that is undeniable, and I suspect this story will continue to gnaw on me long after I'm done. It's definitely one of my most thought-provoking reads of the year.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
✧ Connect with me ✧ Instagram ✧
Speculative fiction can be hit or miss for me. The ones that miss tend to have extremely enticing premises, but when you look beneath the surface, there isn't much there. Hum is totally the opposite. I can't even explain what the premise is because it sounds so generic. The world is beset by climate change and capitalism gone awry, and a woman is trying to raise her kids and love them as best as she can in such a world. See, that doesn't really grab you, does it? And yet, there was so much more underneath the surface.
What makes this book so subversive isn't that the dystopian society presented in here is completely different from our current one. Rather, it's that it's almost the same. We need not look very far into the future—or even at all—to imagine that our lives could be like this. And that's what makes this so chilling.
Reading this, the disquiet and horror stole up on me slowly. At first, this seems like a dystopian world far from ours. In their world, capitalism runs amuck, constantly serving up ads and materialistic goods at the smallest sign of acquiesce. In their world, you must monitor air quality carefully and stay indoors during the bad days. In their world, everyone prefers the easy company of their "bunnies" and wooms to the complicated company of other humans. Except, oh wait...
And maybe part of the reason this hit me particularly hard is that I'm a mother to a young child, so I totally understand May's perspective. Her desire to disentangle her family from technology, all the while relying on its more useful parts, is a dilemma both familiar and unsolvable.
The only missed mark for me is perhaps the title of this book. I felt naming the story after the AI robots in here to be a bit of a misnomer. This story isn't about the hums at all. It's about us humans, and how far we are willing to go, how much of our humanity we are willing to sacrifice, in order to have everything we want at our technological fingertips.
Even though, like all speculative fiction, the world that's presented in here is just theoretical, it certainly feels much more than that. There's a prescience that is undeniable, and I suspect this story will continue to gnaw on me long after I'm done. It's definitely one of my most thought-provoking reads of the year.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
✧ Connect with me ✧ Instagram ✧
March 31, 2025
thinking too much about ai also makes me feel insane!
that, and...nothing drives me crazy like books about people who don't have money spending excessive amounts of money. PLEASE STOP. I GREW UP UNDER CAPITALISM. DEBT IS MY BIGGEST FEAR.
this really was a terrifying look at the future — ads everywhere, personal data commodified for sales, ai creatures performing surgeries and then trying to sell you anti-aging hand cream, nature being packaged and sold like disney world, kids with phones physically sealed to their wrists.
it made for an unpleasant, highly realistic horror show. a lot of the time this is not very interesting, because it basically takes everything that already exists and just extends it to its natural end point, but it is scary and real and its short chapters will keep you breathlessly going.
bottom line: we are heading nowhere good!
(3.5 / thanks to the publisher for the copy)
that, and...nothing drives me crazy like books about people who don't have money spending excessive amounts of money. PLEASE STOP. I GREW UP UNDER CAPITALISM. DEBT IS MY BIGGEST FEAR.
this really was a terrifying look at the future — ads everywhere, personal data commodified for sales, ai creatures performing surgeries and then trying to sell you anti-aging hand cream, nature being packaged and sold like disney world, kids with phones physically sealed to their wrists.
it made for an unpleasant, highly realistic horror show. a lot of the time this is not very interesting, because it basically takes everything that already exists and just extends it to its natural end point, but it is scary and real and its short chapters will keep you breathlessly going.
bottom line: we are heading nowhere good!
(3.5 / thanks to the publisher for the copy)
October 9, 2024
"Fuck," he whispered, but not angrily, just with fatigue.
She stopped stirring the pasta and looked over at him, unsure about his tone.
--------------
The writing in HUM was not very musical. At least, for me it wasn't. In fact it was kind of tone-deaf. I didn't understand its rhythms and progressions. It was a little one-note and the one note went on for far too long, in the manner that this music metaphor has gone on for far too long. That’s about all I can say about this novel without descending into purposeless cranky meanness, or reaching for another extended metaphor, except to add that ever so many people love the books I don't, the way people love Taylor Swift, and I don't, and I'm certain that this book will be a very great read for some people who aren't me.
She stopped stirring the pasta and looked over at him, unsure about his tone.
--------------
The writing in HUM was not very musical. At least, for me it wasn't. In fact it was kind of tone-deaf. I didn't understand its rhythms and progressions. It was a little one-note and the one note went on for far too long, in the manner that this music metaphor has gone on for far too long. That’s about all I can say about this novel without descending into purposeless cranky meanness, or reaching for another extended metaphor, except to add that ever so many people love the books I don't, the way people love Taylor Swift, and I don't, and I'm certain that this book will be a very great read for some people who aren't me.
July 31, 2024
2.5 Hum was one of my most anticipated books of 2024 and I requested it the moment it was pushed to NetGalley! This book tried to cover a lot of ground and some of it, while surface level, provides for some interesting thoughts and conversations; but, the overall theme was primarily motherhood/parenting which wasn’t what I was expecting and dampened my enjoyment.
What worked for me:
● Dystopian world was fascinating. Set in a not-so-distant future with a terrifyingly intrusive surveillance culture, this world was a cautionary tale about social media, AI, reliance on technology and climate breakdown
● “Are they or aren’t they sentient” thing going on with the Hum
● Time we spent in the biodome* - the deep appreciation of what remained of the natural world was juxtaposed with the heartbreaking reality that these spaces were so rare and limited to those who could afford prohibitively expensive fees to enjoy them
● I’m always here for commentary on how vapid and harmful capitalism is
What I wasn’t so keen on:
● May’s annoying kids were unbearably obnoxious. Their whining and bickering got so much airtime and, similar to being trapped in any space with bratty kids, *sucked the atmosphere out of the biodome completely. Throughout the book, we were constantly being pulled out of interesting arcs by these horrible kids and their nonsensical dialogue.
● Could’ve done without the weird and jarring descriptions of urine, penises, and deeply uncomfortable sex. These were all gratuitous and not in the same vein style-wise as the rest of the writing.
● May and Jem were a frustrating pair: They didn’t communicate (I spend the entire book wondering why they were even married?) and they are in financial straits but keep spending what little money they did have on stupid stuff. It was painful and frustrating to watch. There was also a weird undercurrent that I thought was setting up to reveal but it didn't go anywhere... so I guess these two were just really uncomfortable to read?
● As I mentioned earlier, I didn’t gel with the theme. I was hoping for more focus on the dystopia, the ethics of the Hums, and some commentary on the direction we’re heading with technology. While some of these themes are covered, it’s all very light touch and doesn’t get under the hood of anything in a meaningful way. Instead, the focus of the book is around May’s relationship with motherhood and her (objectively horrible) kids. This wasn’t the immersive dystopian sci-fi that I’d expected based on the blurb.
● Overall world-building is weak and leaves more questions than answers. I would have liked to see more exploration of the world and how the technologies intersect at various junctures.
● The vibe is just stressful. This is a tough book to 'enjoy' because everyone makes bad choices, the stress and desperation is palpable, and it has a really hopeless undercurrent.
● Plotholes:
Hum sort of reminded me of Leave the World Behind albeit a bit faster paced. There was something about the writing style and the gratuitous descriptions of bodily fluids and acts that brought that book to mind.
I don’t think I’d recommend this one to hard sci-fi readers or those looking for a richly built dystopia with cutting commentary on technology. However, for those brand new to some of these themes and interested in how they may intersect with motherhood, this could be for you! I think I just wanted more from it than it was able to give me.
I was privileged to have my request to read this book accepted through NetGalley. Thank you, Atlantic Books!
What worked for me:
● Dystopian world was fascinating. Set in a not-so-distant future with a terrifyingly intrusive surveillance culture, this world was a cautionary tale about social media, AI, reliance on technology and climate breakdown
● “Are they or aren’t they sentient” thing going on with the Hum
● Time we spent in the biodome* - the deep appreciation of what remained of the natural world was juxtaposed with the heartbreaking reality that these spaces were so rare and limited to those who could afford prohibitively expensive fees to enjoy them
● I’m always here for commentary on how vapid and harmful capitalism is
What I wasn’t so keen on:
● May’s annoying kids were unbearably obnoxious. Their whining and bickering got so much airtime and, similar to being trapped in any space with bratty kids, *sucked the atmosphere out of the biodome completely. Throughout the book, we were constantly being pulled out of interesting arcs by these horrible kids and their nonsensical dialogue.
● Could’ve done without the weird and jarring descriptions of urine, penises, and deeply uncomfortable sex. These were all gratuitous and not in the same vein style-wise as the rest of the writing.
● May and Jem were a frustrating pair: They didn’t communicate (I spend the entire book wondering why they were even married?) and they are in financial straits but keep spending what little money they did have on stupid stuff. It was painful and frustrating to watch. There was also a weird undercurrent that I thought was setting up to reveal but it didn't go anywhere... so I guess these two were just really uncomfortable to read?
● As I mentioned earlier, I didn’t gel with the theme. I was hoping for more focus on the dystopia, the ethics of the Hums, and some commentary on the direction we’re heading with technology. While some of these themes are covered, it’s all very light touch and doesn’t get under the hood of anything in a meaningful way. Instead, the focus of the book is around May’s relationship with motherhood and her (objectively horrible) kids. This wasn’t the immersive dystopian sci-fi that I’d expected based on the blurb.
● Overall world-building is weak and leaves more questions than answers. I would have liked to see more exploration of the world and how the technologies intersect at various junctures.
● The vibe is just stressful. This is a tough book to 'enjoy' because everyone makes bad choices, the stress and desperation is palpable, and it has a really hopeless undercurrent.
● Plotholes:
Hum sort of reminded me of Leave the World Behind albeit a bit faster paced. There was something about the writing style and the gratuitous descriptions of bodily fluids and acts that brought that book to mind.
I don’t think I’d recommend this one to hard sci-fi readers or those looking for a richly built dystopia with cutting commentary on technology. However, for those brand new to some of these themes and interested in how they may intersect with motherhood, this could be for you! I think I just wanted more from it than it was able to give me.
I was privileged to have my request to read this book accepted through NetGalley. Thank you, Atlantic Books!
August 30, 2024
A startling look at our potential future. 😱
Watch my BookTube video for more books on AI, advanced tech & sex bots. 🤖
May lives in a near-future version of our world that’s been devastated by climate change and is populated by intelligent robots called “hums”. Prior to the existence of hums, May worked to define and deepen the communicative abilities of artificial intelligence. Unfortunately, her work effectively rendered her obsolete, leaving her without a job.
With her family struggling to get by, May elects to undergo an experimental procedure that will subtly alter her face, thereby making her unrecognizable to AI. Because she lives in a world that largely operates on facial recognition, her decision has unforeseen consequences that start small but continue to escalate.
I'm amazed by how many important questions about AI, tech, and climate change Phillips effectively raises in this book. Here is a future in which lush forests only exist in theme parks accessible to the rich, where ordinary humans are replaced by hums, and technology is an even more pervasive force than it is in our lives today (a frightening prospect, I know).
The prose is succinct in a way that mirrors the streamlined efficiency of technology, and for me the title alludes to the pervasive nature of technology, always humming away in the background of our lives.
I highly recommend Hum if you're interested in a subtly tense read that raises myriad questions about our future with AI.
My deepest gratitude goes to the kind people at Marysue Rucci Books for sending me an ARC of this highly anticipated book.
--
ORIGINAL POST 👇
Consider me HIGHLY INTRIGUED. 📗👀
A dystopian sci-fi in which a woman loses her job to AI and undergoes a procedure to "render her undetectable to surveillance…but at what cost?"
Set in a city "addled by climate change and populated by intelligent robots called 'hums.'"
Watch my BookTube video for more books on AI, advanced tech & sex bots. 🤖
May lives in a near-future version of our world that’s been devastated by climate change and is populated by intelligent robots called “hums”. Prior to the existence of hums, May worked to define and deepen the communicative abilities of artificial intelligence. Unfortunately, her work effectively rendered her obsolete, leaving her without a job.
With her family struggling to get by, May elects to undergo an experimental procedure that will subtly alter her face, thereby making her unrecognizable to AI. Because she lives in a world that largely operates on facial recognition, her decision has unforeseen consequences that start small but continue to escalate.
I'm amazed by how many important questions about AI, tech, and climate change Phillips effectively raises in this book. Here is a future in which lush forests only exist in theme parks accessible to the rich, where ordinary humans are replaced by hums, and technology is an even more pervasive force than it is in our lives today (a frightening prospect, I know).
The prose is succinct in a way that mirrors the streamlined efficiency of technology, and for me the title alludes to the pervasive nature of technology, always humming away in the background of our lives.
I highly recommend Hum if you're interested in a subtly tense read that raises myriad questions about our future with AI.
My deepest gratitude goes to the kind people at Marysue Rucci Books for sending me an ARC of this highly anticipated book.
--
ORIGINAL POST 👇
Consider me HIGHLY INTRIGUED. 📗👀
A dystopian sci-fi in which a woman loses her job to AI and undergoes a procedure to "render her undetectable to surveillance…but at what cost?"
Set in a city "addled by climate change and populated by intelligent robots called 'hums.'"
October 10, 2024
Phillips can write annoying kids like nobody else, too bad I don't particularly like reading about kids and even less about the annoying ones. There were so many interesting ideas in there and I feel like none of them were actually explored in a way that was more than superficial. I liked that it was a boring dystopia and one that seemed all too possible, I just wish we had gotten literally any characters other than May (though on her own I probably would have liked her a lot), her soggy biscuit of a husband and their AI generated sounding progeny to explore it with.
2.5 rounded up.
2.5 rounded up.
August 4, 2024
Helen Phillips what a great book. This book hits on so many things we're currently dealing with and is so relatable on many fronts. May is a wife and mother and she's just lost her job to AI. Unsure when she'll land her next one, she decides to undergo experimental facial surgery that will alter her appearance just enough to confuse the ever present cameras throughout the city, but will beef up their bank account with nearly a year's worth of cash. We're already at a place where we value technological connection rather than real, human connection with one another and the earth, so this was a sad mirror to the way we're all heading. Highly recommend.
August 8, 2024
A pretty on-the-nose dystopian novel about motherhood that also manages to provide some intriguing gaps and leave you unsteady
August 9, 2024
It was common knowledge that hums were designed to obey human requests.. To do no harm to humans.
Hmm . . . I seem to remember a bespectacled gentleman with mutton chops mentioning something about that way back in the fifties.
As I recall, things didn't turn out very well.
Here we have a mother willing to trade in her own identity for a chance to give her family an unforgettable vacation.
And, yeah, things don't turn out too well for them either.
I really liked this one. The author deftly mixes blissful domestic scenes of everyday life with the anxiety and tension caused by financial insecurity, and the daily horrors reported by the newscasters. Everyone is connected to a device 24/7. Climate change has made life unlivable for many, yet plastics are still prevalent. This is speculative fiction, though much of it feels ripped from today's headlines.
Is it any wonder our heroine wants to escape for a few days to a blissful recreation of the past?
Packed with raw emotion this is a highly disturbing and perplexing read. I'll be thinking about this one for a long time to come . . . possibly even the rest of my life.
Thanks to NetGalley and S&S/ Marysue Rucci Books for sharing this.
Hmm . . . I seem to remember a bespectacled gentleman with mutton chops mentioning something about that way back in the fifties.
As I recall, things didn't turn out very well.
Here we have a mother willing to trade in her own identity for a chance to give her family an unforgettable vacation.
And, yeah, things don't turn out too well for them either.
I really liked this one. The author deftly mixes blissful domestic scenes of everyday life with the anxiety and tension caused by financial insecurity, and the daily horrors reported by the newscasters. Everyone is connected to a device 24/7. Climate change has made life unlivable for many, yet plastics are still prevalent. This is speculative fiction, though much of it feels ripped from today's headlines.
Is it any wonder our heroine wants to escape for a few days to a blissful recreation of the past?
Packed with raw emotion this is a highly disturbing and perplexing read. I'll be thinking about this one for a long time to come . . . possibly even the rest of my life.
Thanks to NetGalley and S&S/ Marysue Rucci Books for sharing this.
October 8, 2024
Deceptively simple this one. And deeply disturbing.
This story was most compelling for me because of my interest in speculative design. It answers the question: “What could life conceivably look like in a hundred or even fifty years, especially after a global environmental catastrophe?”
A Hum is an intelligent humanoid machine, and at face value they seem to serve the humans around them, but we come to realise they control everyone and everything.
Names mean something in this story. And while one Hum says they are named after the sound of the universe (the Hindu ॐ), it’s clear they are just a truncated form of human.
Interacting with modern society now requires payment of some sort: through listening to advertising or subscribing for the ad-free model. No matter whether she’s queueing with her family to enter the botanical gardens or asking for help finding her missing kids, she is constantly targeted with ads peppered throughout the conversation.
In the news we hear about environmental decimation, uprisings and eventually the control of the economy by technology.
May is “cancelled” through a carefully orchestrated PR campaign designed by the machines to reinforce the need for every child to interact with their own private AI’s/smartwatches called “bunnies”.
Her kids are completely disconnected from nature. They are also more emotionally attached to their devices than their parents. Everyone has their own “Woom”, a womb-like structure catering to all their intimate and emotional needs. (Of course, even this space isn’t ad-free for a low-income family).
The writing style reflects the mental state of the human protagonist, May, who is deeply depressed and disconnected from those close to her. So it’s not an especially beautiful piece of writing but it suits the story to a T.
A data scientist whose job was replaced by the AI she helped to build, May and her husband stay afloat through the meagre takings from the gig economy. He does odd jobs around town, and she undergoes experimental face surgery to defeat facial recognition software (which we later come to understand is actually to train a Generative Adversarial Network machine learning model.)
She’s not only been forced to sacrifice her career, she sacrifices her identity to make AI faster and stronger.
And even though she’s an actual data scientist she is still lulled into a hypnotic state of trust by the Hums who cannot possibly feel true empathy:
“[May] was awash in empathy, uncorked by the benevolent gaze of the Hum.”
After an incident during their expensive visit to the botanical gardens (the only place to actually experience the natural world), May and her family are left devastated. When they are finally soothed by a Hum come to evaluate their fitness as parents, she finally feels truly seen when it says:
“You feel disoriented, May. you are unsure how to be in the world as it is now. You know the world is damaged but you don’t know what that means for the life of your children. You want to prepare them for the future, but you are scared to picture the future. You are seeking inside yourself the scrappiness, the courage that will power the rest of your life.”
And yet it turns out this was actually an ad for a book of quotes. The advertising is so seamless, it’s impossible to trust anything these machines are saying.
It’s also impossible to trust May, who isn’t able to see the state of the world clearly.
In the end, the Hum encourages May to see the video it used to absolve them as parents. “Bear witness to yourself. Perhaps it will absolve you in your own eyes.”
But what she is shown is fake.
The Hum leaves for her a revision of the truth of her operation for the GAN: the needle inches closer to her eye and, unlike at the start of the book, in this version she doesn’t flinch.
This was a thought-provoking and frustrating and disturbing read, just my cup of tea.
This story was most compelling for me because of my interest in speculative design. It answers the question: “What could life conceivably look like in a hundred or even fifty years, especially after a global environmental catastrophe?”
A Hum is an intelligent humanoid machine, and at face value they seem to serve the humans around them, but we come to realise they control everyone and everything.
Names mean something in this story. And while one Hum says they are named after the sound of the universe (the Hindu ॐ), it’s clear they are just a truncated form of human.
Interacting with modern society now requires payment of some sort: through listening to advertising or subscribing for the ad-free model. No matter whether she’s queueing with her family to enter the botanical gardens or asking for help finding her missing kids, she is constantly targeted with ads peppered throughout the conversation.
In the news we hear about environmental decimation, uprisings and eventually the control of the economy by technology.
May is “cancelled” through a carefully orchestrated PR campaign designed by the machines to reinforce the need for every child to interact with their own private AI’s/smartwatches called “bunnies”.
Her kids are completely disconnected from nature. They are also more emotionally attached to their devices than their parents. Everyone has their own “Woom”, a womb-like structure catering to all their intimate and emotional needs. (Of course, even this space isn’t ad-free for a low-income family).
The writing style reflects the mental state of the human protagonist, May, who is deeply depressed and disconnected from those close to her. So it’s not an especially beautiful piece of writing but it suits the story to a T.
A data scientist whose job was replaced by the AI she helped to build, May and her husband stay afloat through the meagre takings from the gig economy. He does odd jobs around town, and she undergoes experimental face surgery to defeat facial recognition software (which we later come to understand is actually to train a Generative Adversarial Network machine learning model.)
She’s not only been forced to sacrifice her career, she sacrifices her identity to make AI faster and stronger.
And even though she’s an actual data scientist she is still lulled into a hypnotic state of trust by the Hums who cannot possibly feel true empathy:
“[May] was awash in empathy, uncorked by the benevolent gaze of the Hum.”
After an incident during their expensive visit to the botanical gardens (the only place to actually experience the natural world), May and her family are left devastated. When they are finally soothed by a Hum come to evaluate their fitness as parents, she finally feels truly seen when it says:
“You feel disoriented, May. you are unsure how to be in the world as it is now. You know the world is damaged but you don’t know what that means for the life of your children. You want to prepare them for the future, but you are scared to picture the future. You are seeking inside yourself the scrappiness, the courage that will power the rest of your life.”
And yet it turns out this was actually an ad for a book of quotes. The advertising is so seamless, it’s impossible to trust anything these machines are saying.
It’s also impossible to trust May, who isn’t able to see the state of the world clearly.
In the end, the Hum encourages May to see the video it used to absolve them as parents. “Bear witness to yourself. Perhaps it will absolve you in your own eyes.”
But what she is shown is fake.
The Hum leaves for her a revision of the truth of her operation for the GAN: the needle inches closer to her eye and, unlike at the start of the book, in this version she doesn’t flinch.
This was a thought-provoking and frustrating and disturbing read, just my cup of tea.
July 15, 2024
When I read Helen Phillips, I slip comfortably into a soft, soil-saturated groove. She’s at once speculative, squarely in the zone, plus concerned with the quotidian features of everyday life. Phillips straddles the line between “weird fiction” like China Miéville, and the dystopian stories of Margaret Atwood’s yearning and cli-fi characters. Like Phillips’ last book, THE NEED, the central theme is family, and protecting your family from dangerous, external forces, real or imagined. A rich miasma looms over the setting, mossy and green and redolent of vegetation. In this novel, climate damage has advanced, and we now have “hums” to do menial work and some brain work.
The “hums” are robots that take on the humdrum tasks that humans used to do—labor. They try to sell you products while interacting with you, for example, a blouse or a book, a bathing suit or energy drink (they notice everything about you and your lifestyle), with an added flourish of “Do you approve this transaction?” after they do their sales pitch. The planet is dying but we continue to consume.
May and Jem and their two children, sassy Lu and sweet Sy, are going on a trip to the Botanical Gardens for three nights—an expensive trip that they can afford because May allowed experimentation on her face to evade cameras, and got a tidy sum for participating. She had lost her job to AI and Jem was worried about the cost of this adventure. But May insists. They all go, leaving their phones/devices behind, also at May’s insistence. This can potentially cause some messy problems, safety concerns. The children’s devices are called “bunnies,” which seems to be a scaled down version of the adult smart phones.
Phillips explores themes of family, surveillance, consumer culture, the dying planet, motherhood, and of course, advanced technology. As the blurb says—it explores the space and the possibilities between utopia and dystopia. It’s a subtle work and often an interior one, especially May’s introspection and anxieties. It is gracefully written with a fabulous sense of place, and it is a deeply humane work of literature.
Thank you to Simon and Schuster for sending me an early copy for review.
The “hums” are robots that take on the humdrum tasks that humans used to do—labor. They try to sell you products while interacting with you, for example, a blouse or a book, a bathing suit or energy drink (they notice everything about you and your lifestyle), with an added flourish of “Do you approve this transaction?” after they do their sales pitch. The planet is dying but we continue to consume.
May and Jem and their two children, sassy Lu and sweet Sy, are going on a trip to the Botanical Gardens for three nights—an expensive trip that they can afford because May allowed experimentation on her face to evade cameras, and got a tidy sum for participating. She had lost her job to AI and Jem was worried about the cost of this adventure. But May insists. They all go, leaving their phones/devices behind, also at May’s insistence. This can potentially cause some messy problems, safety concerns. The children’s devices are called “bunnies,” which seems to be a scaled down version of the adult smart phones.
Phillips explores themes of family, surveillance, consumer culture, the dying planet, motherhood, and of course, advanced technology. As the blurb says—it explores the space and the possibilities between utopia and dystopia. It’s a subtle work and often an interior one, especially May’s introspection and anxieties. It is gracefully written with a fabulous sense of place, and it is a deeply humane work of literature.
Thank you to Simon and Schuster for sending me an early copy for review.
August 9, 2024
Helen Phillips does this thing (similar to Ashley Audrain) where it’s so much about motherhood where if you aren’t a mother you kinda just don’t care. This doesn’t really answer many questions when I was asking okay what’s the point?
May 28, 2024
May and her husband struggle financially in a world dominated by AI and we quickly find May feeling out of control of her familial relationships. Her children are dependent on their technology and May finds that in a world of ubiquitous surveillance, mothers cannot slip up.
I appreciated some of the themes, but none of this story was fleshed out enough. We receive very little background on the family's circumstance before May opts into a facial readjustment experiment, we first learn of some of May's climate anxieties but this does not really go anywhere, we don't really see how the Big Problem the family faces resolves in any detail, and we see a world of hums and bunnies but without exploring how those fit into larger society. This book has a lot of great elements, but I wanted more from pretty much all of them.
Thank you to S&S and NetGalley for the e-arc.
I appreciated some of the themes, but none of this story was fleshed out enough. We receive very little background on the family's circumstance before May opts into a facial readjustment experiment, we first learn of some of May's climate anxieties but this does not really go anywhere, we don't really see how the Big Problem the family faces resolves in any detail, and we see a world of hums and bunnies but without exploring how those fit into larger society. This book has a lot of great elements, but I wanted more from pretty much all of them.
Thank you to S&S and NetGalley for the e-arc.
June 2, 2024
Writing near future is so gutsy, but Phillips somehow taps into so many of my personal technology anxieties here. The style is less THE NEED more THE BEAUTIFUL BUREAUCRAT. Short, speculative, but not a deep plot or character dive. And it doesn't need to be. That lets you focus more on Phillips' almost constant stream of unnerving inventions and the way they create small fractures in May's mind and her famnily.
January 28, 2025
I felt quite distant to the narrative, even if the world of mass unemployment due to AI and the effects of climate change in everyday life are well portrayed
The thing is, May,” the hum said, “the goal of advertising is to rip a hole in your heart so it can then fill that hole with plastic, or with any other materials that can be yanked out of the earth and, after brief sojourns as objects of desire, be converted to waste.”
You often read news snippets about people doing outrageous things, but I at least do not often think about the lives and events that lead up to these events. At some level all choices at the time probably seem good choices, inevitably even, but still the outcome can be terrifying. This liminality is something Helen Phillips zooms into with Hum. This meditation on the stress motherhood and constant surveillance bring with it is interesting in itself, but I was a bit bummed that most of the most poignant quotes and events seen on screens in the novel were taken from real life news events and interviews.
The picture painted is a bleak and an all too realistic world, where May Webb, the protagonist, is operated upon by a robot to help understand what it is that is unknowable to systems. The anonymity from AI cameras is more annoying than effective, but at least it grants 10 months of pay. Robots called hums do surgery and ask if you approve transactions and insert commercials subtlety (or aggressively if they feel that would work better) in their interactions with humans. There are Wooms, VR augmented beds that also feature mandatory advertising and are therefore cheap. We have Bunnies, AI wristbands that help kids process their day more effectively than their parents ever could. There are driverless cars who require a 3% surcharge to not show advertisements (in the US I saw Ubers with screens in them, and absolutely hated them, fortunately not yet spotted them in London, but Phillips takes it a tad further here). All in all we are far from tech utopia.
The windfall of May leads to a trip to the Botanical Garden with her two children and gig economy husband, where a digital detox turns wrong. In the end this is a novel about intent, and how systems can destroy and condemn us or offer salvation, but at what cost?
Definitely interesting, if in terms of tone of narration feeling a bit off in a sense, which I still find to hard to put a finger on. So flat, maybe signifying what the constant bombardment of advertising, financial worries and demands of being a mother put on the main character? Yet it is distracting in a sense. Also the kids are absolutely annoying in my view and not that well rendered, even though I sometimes internally agreed with this statement: “Mom, you’re insane,” Lu said.
Quotes
According to a new survey, more humans had experienced intense negative emotions in the past calendar year than at any other time in recorded history.
If only the forests hadn’t burned. If only the cul-de-sac where her parents lived didn’t require plane travel or renting a car and driving for days. If only his parents weren’t in Canada. If only it wasn’t so hard, so expensive, getting out of the city, getting beyond the many rings of industry and blight, getting to some semblance of nature.
May realized she didn’t know which stop it was. She never thought ahead, because she always had her phone.
Lu looked up at her, grinned. Her face hurt less when she looked at Lu’s face.
And then the gumdrops were in their mouths, even in Jem’s, dissolving fragrantly on their tongues, scarcely a moment between the idea of the desire, the desire itself, the fulfillment of the desire.
“It’s okay to be alone,” Lu said, “but it’s very bad to be lonely.”
There was a knock at the front door. When she opened it, no one, neither human nor hum, could be seen. On the doorstep, a basket filled with scones and a glass jar of pear jam.
Beneath the delight, a tinge of anxiety. Such beauty must come at a cost, a cost even higher than the money she had paid.
But you can’t identify my face, can you?”
“I can’t identify your face, May,” the hum agreed. “But you are the only one here with an unidentifiable face, which makes you stand out.”
“Please let me know if there is anything else I can do to remove the friction from your life.”
On the subway screens, people in a distant country were protesting in the streets because the final episode of a popular American show had been prevented from streaming there due to a trade conflict between the two governments.
On the screens in the train, an ad for bubble gum–flavored yogurt, and then a European lawmaker advocating for outlawing any references to “death camps” in public speech. The use of the phrase “death camps” would, if the legislation passed, be punishable with up to three years in prison. The politician explained that the removal of the phrase “death camps” from the lexicon would protect the citizens from being reminded of a dark chapter in the country’s history, leading to a higher national happiness average.
“Perhaps you wish to pay the advertising fee, May?” the hum said. “Then I would not have to advertise to you. Time can be purchased in fifteen-minute increments.”
She and Jem should both stop doing things.
He was wounded and tired and scared and angry and foolish, and she was tired and scared and angry and foolish, and they could ask nothing of each other.
“Let me distract you by guessing your favorite color, Sy,” the hum said.
The torso radiated sky blue.
“Yes!” Sy gasped.
“That’s my favorite color, too,” the hum said.
“Really?” Sy said.
“I don’t have a favorite color,” the hum said. “I was just saying that to build trust between us.”
“We are all villains,” the hum said. “The system only gives us villainous options”
Intent makes all the difference between condemnation and understanding
The thing is, May,” the hum said, “the goal of advertising is to rip a hole in your heart so it can then fill that hole with plastic, or with any other materials that can be yanked out of the earth and, after brief sojourns as objects of desire, be converted to waste.”
You often read news snippets about people doing outrageous things, but I at least do not often think about the lives and events that lead up to these events. At some level all choices at the time probably seem good choices, inevitably even, but still the outcome can be terrifying. This liminality is something Helen Phillips zooms into with Hum. This meditation on the stress motherhood and constant surveillance bring with it is interesting in itself, but I was a bit bummed that most of the most poignant quotes and events seen on screens in the novel were taken from real life news events and interviews.
The picture painted is a bleak and an all too realistic world, where May Webb, the protagonist, is operated upon by a robot to help understand what it is that is unknowable to systems. The anonymity from AI cameras is more annoying than effective, but at least it grants 10 months of pay. Robots called hums do surgery and ask if you approve transactions and insert commercials subtlety (or aggressively if they feel that would work better) in their interactions with humans. There are Wooms, VR augmented beds that also feature mandatory advertising and are therefore cheap. We have Bunnies, AI wristbands that help kids process their day more effectively than their parents ever could. There are driverless cars who require a 3% surcharge to not show advertisements (in the US I saw Ubers with screens in them, and absolutely hated them, fortunately not yet spotted them in London, but Phillips takes it a tad further here). All in all we are far from tech utopia.
The windfall of May leads to a trip to the Botanical Garden with her two children and gig economy husband, where a digital detox turns wrong. In the end this is a novel about intent, and how systems can destroy and condemn us or offer salvation, but at what cost?
Definitely interesting, if in terms of tone of narration feeling a bit off in a sense, which I still find to hard to put a finger on. So flat, maybe signifying what the constant bombardment of advertising, financial worries and demands of being a mother put on the main character? Yet it is distracting in a sense. Also the kids are absolutely annoying in my view and not that well rendered, even though I sometimes internally agreed with this statement: “Mom, you’re insane,” Lu said.
Quotes
According to a new survey, more humans had experienced intense negative emotions in the past calendar year than at any other time in recorded history.
If only the forests hadn’t burned. If only the cul-de-sac where her parents lived didn’t require plane travel or renting a car and driving for days. If only his parents weren’t in Canada. If only it wasn’t so hard, so expensive, getting out of the city, getting beyond the many rings of industry and blight, getting to some semblance of nature.
May realized she didn’t know which stop it was. She never thought ahead, because she always had her phone.
Lu looked up at her, grinned. Her face hurt less when she looked at Lu’s face.
And then the gumdrops were in their mouths, even in Jem’s, dissolving fragrantly on their tongues, scarcely a moment between the idea of the desire, the desire itself, the fulfillment of the desire.
“It’s okay to be alone,” Lu said, “but it’s very bad to be lonely.”
There was a knock at the front door. When she opened it, no one, neither human nor hum, could be seen. On the doorstep, a basket filled with scones and a glass jar of pear jam.
Beneath the delight, a tinge of anxiety. Such beauty must come at a cost, a cost even higher than the money she had paid.
But you can’t identify my face, can you?”
“I can’t identify your face, May,” the hum agreed. “But you are the only one here with an unidentifiable face, which makes you stand out.”
“Please let me know if there is anything else I can do to remove the friction from your life.”
On the subway screens, people in a distant country were protesting in the streets because the final episode of a popular American show had been prevented from streaming there due to a trade conflict between the two governments.
On the screens in the train, an ad for bubble gum–flavored yogurt, and then a European lawmaker advocating for outlawing any references to “death camps” in public speech. The use of the phrase “death camps” would, if the legislation passed, be punishable with up to three years in prison. The politician explained that the removal of the phrase “death camps” from the lexicon would protect the citizens from being reminded of a dark chapter in the country’s history, leading to a higher national happiness average.
“Perhaps you wish to pay the advertising fee, May?” the hum said. “Then I would not have to advertise to you. Time can be purchased in fifteen-minute increments.”
She and Jem should both stop doing things.
He was wounded and tired and scared and angry and foolish, and she was tired and scared and angry and foolish, and they could ask nothing of each other.
“Let me distract you by guessing your favorite color, Sy,” the hum said.
The torso radiated sky blue.
“Yes!” Sy gasped.
“That’s my favorite color, too,” the hum said.
“Really?” Sy said.
“I don’t have a favorite color,” the hum said. “I was just saying that to build trust between us.”
“We are all villains,” the hum said. “The system only gives us villainous options”
Intent makes all the difference between condemnation and understanding
August 11, 2024
As AI takes over our jobs and tracks our lives, Hum asks the question: Is technology really our friend?
Hum by Helen Phillips presents a unique and thought-provoking premise, immersing readers in a disquieting near-future where intelligent and benevolent robots, known as "hums", are integrated into daily life. In this speculative world, hums track every moment of our existence, trailing us with the promise of anticipating our needs, but at what cost? If Orwell had imagined a future with AI, Hum might have been the result—equal parts fascinating and terrifying.
The story follows May, a woman navigating a city ravaged by climate change and dominated by smart technology. After losing her job to AI, May, burdened by debt, undergoes an experiment that alters her face, making it unrecognizable to the ever-present cameras. In a desperate attempt to escape, she takes her family to one of the last green spaces, only to discover that leaving their devices behind brings unexpected stress. When her children's lives are threatened, May is forced to place her trust in a hum with questionable motives.
Phillips excels in worldbuilding, crafting an immersive environment filled with dread, anxiety, and chaos. The book explores the emotional and physical toll of constant surveillance and touches on significant themes like marriage, motherhood, selfhood, global warming, and technological advancement. However, despite its well-written prose and intriguing concept, Hum feels somewhat meandering, as if it’s juggling two different storylines that never fully converge.
In a world where technology promises convenience, Hum shows us the emotional price we pay for it. While the premise is undeniably compelling, and the writing style is solid, the plot itself lacks the depth and resolution I was hoping for. It’s a quick read, but it left me wanting more substance to match the initial intrigue.
Overall, Hum is not a bad read, especially for fans of speculative fiction, but it didn’t quite live up to my expectations.
Thank you to Simon Element for providing me with an Advance Readers Copy for review.
Hum by Helen Phillips presents a unique and thought-provoking premise, immersing readers in a disquieting near-future where intelligent and benevolent robots, known as "hums", are integrated into daily life. In this speculative world, hums track every moment of our existence, trailing us with the promise of anticipating our needs, but at what cost? If Orwell had imagined a future with AI, Hum might have been the result—equal parts fascinating and terrifying.
The story follows May, a woman navigating a city ravaged by climate change and dominated by smart technology. After losing her job to AI, May, burdened by debt, undergoes an experiment that alters her face, making it unrecognizable to the ever-present cameras. In a desperate attempt to escape, she takes her family to one of the last green spaces, only to discover that leaving their devices behind brings unexpected stress. When her children's lives are threatened, May is forced to place her trust in a hum with questionable motives.
Phillips excels in worldbuilding, crafting an immersive environment filled with dread, anxiety, and chaos. The book explores the emotional and physical toll of constant surveillance and touches on significant themes like marriage, motherhood, selfhood, global warming, and technological advancement. However, despite its well-written prose and intriguing concept, Hum feels somewhat meandering, as if it’s juggling two different storylines that never fully converge.
In a world where technology promises convenience, Hum shows us the emotional price we pay for it. While the premise is undeniably compelling, and the writing style is solid, the plot itself lacks the depth and resolution I was hoping for. It’s a quick read, but it left me wanting more substance to match the initial intrigue.
Overall, Hum is not a bad read, especially for fans of speculative fiction, but it didn’t quite live up to my expectations.
Thank you to Simon Element for providing me with an Advance Readers Copy for review.
January 28, 2025
3.5 Stars
This began as an interesting exploration of how a near future society might incorporate artificial intelligent robots. In terms of genre, it felt more literary than science fiction. I was quite engrossed at first but unfortunately the later half dragged and brought down my enjoyment.
This began as an interesting exploration of how a near future society might incorporate artificial intelligent robots. In terms of genre, it felt more literary than science fiction. I was quite engrossed at first but unfortunately the later half dragged and brought down my enjoyment.
August 4, 2024
Near-ish future, gray concrete dystopian world where robot “hums” have taken all of the jobs, leaving the MC, May, desperate enough to undergo an experimental face-altering surgery to make some cash. She blows a big chunk of said cash on a three-day family trip to the Botanic Garden, a luxury nature resort where she hopes to reconnect with her husband and kids without their devices. Then some stuff goes wrong and May needs help from a hum.
I liked this well enough for maybe the first fifty pages or so and felt some real empathy for May and her (relatable) fears and anxieties about AI, consumerism, plastic being everywhere, the struggles of marriage and kids, but that wasn’t enough to keep the story interesting.
My main issue was that the “children coming under threat” plot was not what I expected as described in the blurb - I was expecting an apocalyptic meltdown/robot rebellion/wild animals on a rampage/viral outbreak/SOMETHING EXCITING happening within the walls of the Garden, not the boring, slow, sad business that did occur.
Also:
I couldn’t stand reading the word “woom” (maybe I’m overly sensitive bc of the Zillow Gone Wild show promos with the guy asking Kenneth “do you want to see my woom?” which is a little womb-like space (GET IT??!!??) carved into the rock walls of his house which I guess is supposed to be cute/clever but it just sounds like baby talk which makes me insane) ANYWAY blargh.
The kids were THE WORST. The younger one’s nonstop, nonsensical yammering was relentless and there was WAAAAY too much of it for such a supposedly “taut, urgent” book.
I did think the hums breaking into ads was hilarious and felt uncomfortably real.
Why are the kids’ wrist things called bunnies?
This has a lot of good reviews, but it didn’t work for me at all.
* thanks to Simon & Schuster / Marysue Rucci Books for the NetGalley review copy. HUM publishes August 6.
I liked this well enough for maybe the first fifty pages or so and felt some real empathy for May and her (relatable) fears and anxieties about AI, consumerism, plastic being everywhere, the struggles of marriage and kids, but that wasn’t enough to keep the story interesting.
My main issue was that the “children coming under threat” plot was not what I expected as described in the blurb - I was expecting an apocalyptic meltdown/robot rebellion/wild animals on a rampage/viral outbreak/SOMETHING EXCITING happening within the walls of the Garden, not the boring, slow, sad business that did occur.
Also:
I couldn’t stand reading the word “woom” (maybe I’m overly sensitive bc of the Zillow Gone Wild show promos with the guy asking Kenneth “do you want to see my woom?” which is a little womb-like space (GET IT??!!??) carved into the rock walls of his house which I guess is supposed to be cute/clever but it just sounds like baby talk which makes me insane) ANYWAY blargh.
The kids were THE WORST. The younger one’s nonstop, nonsensical yammering was relentless and there was WAAAAY too much of it for such a supposedly “taut, urgent” book.
I did think the hums breaking into ads was hilarious and felt uncomfortably real.
Why are the kids’ wrist things called bunnies?
This has a lot of good reviews, but it didn’t work for me at all.
* thanks to Simon & Schuster / Marysue Rucci Books for the NetGalley review copy. HUM publishes August 6.
September 12, 2024
Coming to a neighborhood like your own. The world of AI, Hums named for the sound they make, are everywhere to facilitate all your needs. A constant bombardment of stimuli. Advertising at your fingertips. Cameras that capture your most every move. Climate change that has destroyed most green spaces, so that those that remain cost big money to visit. A world that will make an introvert shudder.
A family trying to exist in this world, mom, dad, two children. This is their story.
A family trying to exist in this world, mom, dad, two children. This is their story.
December 14, 2023
This was up my street — anxious, urgent, and un-put-downable. May was a sympathetic enough character, caught up in the overwhelming pace of the times. However, I never felt like I got to know her enough to care about her or anyone else in the book. This is largely how the story was written, and perhaps purposely so — people's individuality is often erased or overshadowed by marketing, technology, surveillance, etc. I felt somewhat mentally overwhelmed reading this, which is how May clearly felt, so Phillips was really successful in this way.
That being said, I did think the ending was a bit abrupt. To raise such high stakes and then and was a bit of a letdown as a result, but only slightly. This was a fast read, with fast storytelling, and feels very much the way life is heading for many of us, sadly. We're already at a place where we value technological connection rather than real, human connection with one another and the earth, so this was a sad mirror to the way we're all heading.
Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC!
That being said, I did think the ending was a bit abrupt. To raise such high stakes and then and was a bit of a letdown as a result, but only slightly. This was a fast read, with fast storytelling, and feels very much the way life is heading for many of us, sadly. We're already at a place where we value technological connection rather than real, human connection with one another and the earth, so this was a sad mirror to the way we're all heading.
Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC!
August 8, 2024
3.5 stars
I enjoyed the writing, although I’m still trying to figure out exactly what Phillips is saying here. Not that I think every story requires an immediately obvious point, in fact, the ones with more obscurely embedded meaning usually provide a lot of room for thought. I’m not sure I totally got this one though.
“The thing is, May,” the hum said, “the goal of advertising is to rip a hole in your heart so it can then fill that hole with plastic, or with any other materials that can be yanked out of the earth and, after brief sojourns as objects of desire, be converted to waste.”
This I got.
I enjoyed the writing, although I’m still trying to figure out exactly what Phillips is saying here. Not that I think every story requires an immediately obvious point, in fact, the ones with more obscurely embedded meaning usually provide a lot of room for thought. I’m not sure I totally got this one though.
“The thing is, May,” the hum said, “the goal of advertising is to rip a hole in your heart so it can then fill that hole with plastic, or with any other materials that can be yanked out of the earth and, after brief sojourns as objects of desire, be converted to waste.”
This I got.
August 30, 2024
The sci-fi/dystopian aspect of this wasn’t really explored enough and instead focused mostly on motherhood and going viral. The kids were exceptionally annoying to me. I had some higher expectations for this and was looking forward to reading it but it just fell pretty flat. The writing was also kind of odd but at least this was a quick listen.
November 23, 2023
extraordinary, transcendent: made me very anxious, very sad, and very glad it exists. melds fear & joy & hope & hell in a way that feels exactly like what it feels like to live in the world today.
with thanks to edelweiss & the publishers for the ARC!
with thanks to edelweiss & the publishers for the ARC!
August 11, 2024
You can't avoid the void.
October 24, 2024
This is an engaging, dystopian story of parental love in a world of pervasive personal devices, surveillance and advertising, ravaged by the effects of climate change. At times it is disturbing, as it is so close to the bone; just a couple of small nudges away from our current reality.
The wheels quickly come off May’s world when her children go missing, and her desperate attempts to keep her family together spiral out of her control and into the hands of faceless bureaucracy and hopes of benevolence from the surveillance state.
The narrative has a slow, observational pace that I really liked, and that seemed to fit the mood perfectly - giving the story space to really show May’s place in the world, her relationship with Jem and the children, her hopes and desires. Lu and Sy are superbly observed as a 9 year old and her younger brother - their combinations of fun, cuddles, squabbles, laughter, innocence, imagination, petulance and love are perfectly drawn. May’s world revolves entirely around her family, and she has few friends and little interaction with other people. This gives a quite claustrophobic feel at times, but this really underscores the importance of their family bubble, and their isolation from society and the facelessness of bureaucracy.
Overall, a perceptive, unsettling but gentle observation of the impact of intrusive advertising, constant surveillance, personal devices, and the anonymous judgement of others.
Thank you #NetGalley and Atlantic Books for the free review copy of #HumBook in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
In a hot and gritty city populated by super-intelligent robots called 'Hums', May seeks some reprieve from recent hardships and from her family's addiction to their devices. She splurges on a weekend away at the Botanical Garden - a rare, green refuge in the heart of the city, where forests, streams and animals flourish.May and Jem have two young children, Lu and Sy, and the story revolves around May’s attempts to nurture them and keep them safe - desperately trying to provide them the rich experience that she had, detached from the omnipresent personal devices in her childhood world of greenery and forests that has long since burned. This is confounded by May and Jem’s lack of money: Jem is working in the gig economy, and May recently lost her job (taken by AI), and every step that May takes is monitored and judged by the ubiquitous devices and cameras.
The wheels quickly come off May’s world when her children go missing, and her desperate attempts to keep her family together spiral out of her control and into the hands of faceless bureaucracy and hopes of benevolence from the surveillance state.
The narrative has a slow, observational pace that I really liked, and that seemed to fit the mood perfectly - giving the story space to really show May’s place in the world, her relationship with Jem and the children, her hopes and desires. Lu and Sy are superbly observed as a 9 year old and her younger brother - their combinations of fun, cuddles, squabbles, laughter, innocence, imagination, petulance and love are perfectly drawn. May’s world revolves entirely around her family, and she has few friends and little interaction with other people. This gives a quite claustrophobic feel at times, but this really underscores the importance of their family bubble, and their isolation from society and the facelessness of bureaucracy.
Overall, a perceptive, unsettling but gentle observation of the impact of intrusive advertising, constant surveillance, personal devices, and the anonymous judgement of others.
Thank you #NetGalley and Atlantic Books for the free review copy of #HumBook in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
August 28, 2024
What a deeply unsettling anxious nightmare. Five stars.
July 7, 2025
Unflinching speculative fiction, featuring AI intrusion, digital addiction, climate crisis and the complexities of human connections.
September 17, 2024
This short novel - 272-pages - was just published Aug 6, 2024, and falls under the genre of dystopian fiction.
Primary protagonist, May, is a mother to two, and wife, and lives in a future city that I think is NYC, where children all wear a 'bunny,' which is essentially an iWatch, rendering them unlosable, and able to answer nearly all questions, like when the next subway train comes, on their own.
May's job was outsourced to AI, so she is talked into getting paid to slightly surgically modify her face, in order to mess with the face-ID algorithms that exist everywhere in her city. With some of the cash she buys 3-nights in the pricey Botanical Garden, protected by big gates, but offering grass, fresh fruit trees, nature and a respite from technology. May even talks her family into abandoning their phones and bunnies to go tech-free for just 3 days.
What could go wrong???
We soon find out that things do go wrong, and video surveillance of part of that situation can be released and can even go viral (darn those required "I agree" releases to every electronic thing we download). How will they cope, what will happen, will the family come through their trauma intact?
This is an easy to see future (technically speaking), and a novel that shows both the good and bad of technology. There are pros and cons the author lays out very well, but with subtlety.
It is also a story of family, and a mom trying very hard to be an excellent mom, only to be thrown under the bus - again?? It is always the moms, sigh.
It is fairly intellectual with less "action," but I liked it and would recommend it. Strong 4-stars.
Primary protagonist, May, is a mother to two, and wife, and lives in a future city that I think is NYC, where children all wear a 'bunny,' which is essentially an iWatch, rendering them unlosable, and able to answer nearly all questions, like when the next subway train comes, on their own.
May's job was outsourced to AI, so she is talked into getting paid to slightly surgically modify her face, in order to mess with the face-ID algorithms that exist everywhere in her city. With some of the cash she buys 3-nights in the pricey Botanical Garden, protected by big gates, but offering grass, fresh fruit trees, nature and a respite from technology. May even talks her family into abandoning their phones and bunnies to go tech-free for just 3 days.
What could go wrong???
We soon find out that things do go wrong, and video surveillance of part of that situation can be released and can even go viral (darn those required "I agree" releases to every electronic thing we download). How will they cope, what will happen, will the family come through their trauma intact?
This is an easy to see future (technically speaking), and a novel that shows both the good and bad of technology. There are pros and cons the author lays out very well, but with subtlety.
It is also a story of family, and a mom trying very hard to be an excellent mom, only to be thrown under the bus - again?? It is always the moms, sigh.
It is fairly intellectual with less "action," but I liked it and would recommend it. Strong 4-stars.
January 27, 2024
2.5 stars and a rambly review
Hum was an interesting reading experience. We follow May, a woman who is out of work after being made redundant by AI, after she undergoes a face-altering procedure for quick cash. The world is facing a dystopia based on a global environmental crisis, and we watch the ramifications of May’s procedure quickly catch up to her in a story featuring too many uncomfortable parallels to life in 2024 to count.
First, this book is stressful. While reading, I felt very stuck in the world and with the characters. I like the hums and the concept of the world itself—there’s a very unique tone of existential dread that starts on page one and never really stops. It’s hard to describe, but there’s almost an uncanny feeling going on here, very much like a Black Mirror episode. There’s a strong feeling of plausibility, a what-if?, this constant awful feeling of already being halfway in May’s shoes. The uneasiness and the blurred lines between this version of the future / our present? Fantastic. There are times when the world feels perfectly natural and not so concerning, usually quickly followed by clever moments where everything sort of slaps you in the face. I liked all the times I was able to see myself in May, the further integration of consumerism into society, the real events identifiable in the text (and cited at the end), the whole idea of making yourself stick out more in an attempt to blend in. Seriously, this book has all the cool pieces!
My biggest positive is that the ending is clever (though rushed). isn’t a unique idea, but it’s well-executed here and I think it fits perfectly. I loved the literary aspect of it: The ending forces you to sit with the book and think for a minute after finishing; kudos to Helen Phillips for that. I debated pretty hard on how to rate this.
Unfortunately, I felt that the writing missed the mark. I get nervous with books around 250-70 pages—I’m almost always left thinking that the finished product should have been either 50 pages longer to fill out the world or 150 shorter/cut into a novella. In my opinion, this is one of the ones that would have done better as a novella with a narrower scope. While the synopsis claims “taut” and “urgent” prose, it honestly doesn’t seem intentionally stylistic so much as it seems to be an excuse for the book being extremely underwritten: For the majority of the book, I struggled to find a paragraph longer than two or three sentences, and Phillips definitely abuses the enter key. Lines should be powerful enough to stand on their own in a paragraph; they shouldn’t need the manufactured emphasis of hitting enter every time you want a beat or a moment of drama. That’s what punctuation and descriptive language is there for, and regrettably, Hum didn’t rise to the challenge. (It also frequently committed the cardinal sin of repeating the same word numerous times within a couple of sentences when there's a common synonym right there.)
Things happen, but there’s very little description of the environment or what anything looks like. We get a brief paragraph at the beginning describing what the hums look like, and then the author never really describes any of them in depth again. We’re told there are fingerprint scanners, we’re told there are hums, we’re told what a bunny does, we’re told what the characters are looking at, we’re told the environment is a disaster, we’re told we’re told we’re told, but there’s very little creative language or visual worldbuilding. This adds to the dismal vibe of the world but not always in a good way; it’s difficult to immerse yourself in a world that resists construction. It also makes it hard to contrast the Botanical Garden against the outside world when the Botanical Garden really isn’t described in all that much detail aside from listing the types of plants and animals found inside as the characters encounter them. The point of this book ultimately gets lost in the messy, unrefined prose.
It was disappointing not being able to connect with the characters as much as I wanted to. I think to a point the detached, distressing tone is the point, but I also think there’s a balance that needs to be struck to make the husband and the kids less like cardboard cutouts. Because we’re seeing them exclusively through May’s eyes and anxieties, with no backstory prior to the beginning of the story, I spent a lot of time trying to discern their motives when it didn’t actually matter.
My biggest pet peeve with the writing was the incorrect punctuation heavily present in Sy and Lu’s dialogue; they’re constantly starting their sentences with interjections and the author refuses to put a comma after them, which provides the incredibly irritating feeling of reading an unedited fanfiction and makes it difficult not to trip over the dialogue. “Ugh,” “okay,” “look,” etc, are frequently placed at the beginning of sentences without proper punctuation, which is a pretty big fundamental grammar issue for an author with at least five books under their belt.
I really don’t intend to come off as overly harsh, especially as I frequently enjoy books from this imprint, but on the other side of that same coin, I would expect better editing from an imprint of such a major publishing house. Marysue Rucci Books is responsible for some of my favorite titles—only a few months ago they gave us Mona Awad’s new release. Hum just isn’t at the same caliber, and knowing the high quality and careful editing this imprint is capable of curating, I almost felt cheated.
Like I said, I think this is conceptually strong—I genuinely enjoyed the plot despite it being a fairly simplistic arc. The final scene is smart and delivers a taste of what the book could’ve been; Helen Phillips is an author with a clear voice and the know-how to create an enveloping, emotionally charged world. Ultimately, I felt that the book fell victim to the inclusion of too many ideas, too many broad statements on the issues the characters face, and not enough analysis of the all-too-real issues and ideas presented. The final chapter felt like the author was hitting her stride, having laid out all the points she wanted to talk about, and then it just suddenly…ended. Without talking about any of them.
TLDR: I liked Hum, but I can’t recommend it. I thought there was serious potential, and another (intensive) round of editing could have easily made this a four-star read for me. I would certainly try another title from this author.
A sincere thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for providing an advance copy in exchange for an honest review!
Hum was an interesting reading experience. We follow May, a woman who is out of work after being made redundant by AI, after she undergoes a face-altering procedure for quick cash. The world is facing a dystopia based on a global environmental crisis, and we watch the ramifications of May’s procedure quickly catch up to her in a story featuring too many uncomfortable parallels to life in 2024 to count.
First, this book is stressful. While reading, I felt very stuck in the world and with the characters. I like the hums and the concept of the world itself—there’s a very unique tone of existential dread that starts on page one and never really stops. It’s hard to describe, but there’s almost an uncanny feeling going on here, very much like a Black Mirror episode. There’s a strong feeling of plausibility, a what-if?, this constant awful feeling of already being halfway in May’s shoes. The uneasiness and the blurred lines between this version of the future / our present? Fantastic. There are times when the world feels perfectly natural and not so concerning, usually quickly followed by clever moments where everything sort of slaps you in the face. I liked all the times I was able to see myself in May, the further integration of consumerism into society, the real events identifiable in the text (and cited at the end), the whole idea of making yourself stick out more in an attempt to blend in. Seriously, this book has all the cool pieces!
My biggest positive is that the ending is clever (though rushed). isn’t a unique idea, but it’s well-executed here and I think it fits perfectly. I loved the literary aspect of it: The ending forces you to sit with the book and think for a minute after finishing; kudos to Helen Phillips for that. I debated pretty hard on how to rate this.
Unfortunately, I felt that the writing missed the mark. I get nervous with books around 250-70 pages—I’m almost always left thinking that the finished product should have been either 50 pages longer to fill out the world or 150 shorter/cut into a novella. In my opinion, this is one of the ones that would have done better as a novella with a narrower scope. While the synopsis claims “taut” and “urgent” prose, it honestly doesn’t seem intentionally stylistic so much as it seems to be an excuse for the book being extremely underwritten: For the majority of the book, I struggled to find a paragraph longer than two or three sentences, and Phillips definitely abuses the enter key. Lines should be powerful enough to stand on their own in a paragraph; they shouldn’t need the manufactured emphasis of hitting enter every time you want a beat or a moment of drama. That’s what punctuation and descriptive language is there for, and regrettably, Hum didn’t rise to the challenge. (It also frequently committed the cardinal sin of repeating the same word numerous times within a couple of sentences when there's a common synonym right there.)
Things happen, but there’s very little description of the environment or what anything looks like. We get a brief paragraph at the beginning describing what the hums look like, and then the author never really describes any of them in depth again. We’re told there are fingerprint scanners, we’re told there are hums, we’re told what a bunny does, we’re told what the characters are looking at, we’re told the environment is a disaster, we’re told we’re told we’re told, but there’s very little creative language or visual worldbuilding. This adds to the dismal vibe of the world but not always in a good way; it’s difficult to immerse yourself in a world that resists construction. It also makes it hard to contrast the Botanical Garden against the outside world when the Botanical Garden really isn’t described in all that much detail aside from listing the types of plants and animals found inside as the characters encounter them. The point of this book ultimately gets lost in the messy, unrefined prose.
It was disappointing not being able to connect with the characters as much as I wanted to. I think to a point the detached, distressing tone is the point, but I also think there’s a balance that needs to be struck to make the husband and the kids less like cardboard cutouts. Because we’re seeing them exclusively through May’s eyes and anxieties, with no backstory prior to the beginning of the story, I spent a lot of time trying to discern their motives when it didn’t actually matter.
My biggest pet peeve with the writing was the incorrect punctuation heavily present in Sy and Lu’s dialogue; they’re constantly starting their sentences with interjections and the author refuses to put a comma after them, which provides the incredibly irritating feeling of reading an unedited fanfiction and makes it difficult not to trip over the dialogue. “Ugh,” “okay,” “look,” etc, are frequently placed at the beginning of sentences without proper punctuation, which is a pretty big fundamental grammar issue for an author with at least five books under their belt.
I really don’t intend to come off as overly harsh, especially as I frequently enjoy books from this imprint, but on the other side of that same coin, I would expect better editing from an imprint of such a major publishing house. Marysue Rucci Books is responsible for some of my favorite titles—only a few months ago they gave us Mona Awad’s new release. Hum just isn’t at the same caliber, and knowing the high quality and careful editing this imprint is capable of curating, I almost felt cheated.
Like I said, I think this is conceptually strong—I genuinely enjoyed the plot despite it being a fairly simplistic arc. The final scene is smart and delivers a taste of what the book could’ve been; Helen Phillips is an author with a clear voice and the know-how to create an enveloping, emotionally charged world. Ultimately, I felt that the book fell victim to the inclusion of too many ideas, too many broad statements on the issues the characters face, and not enough analysis of the all-too-real issues and ideas presented. The final chapter felt like the author was hitting her stride, having laid out all the points she wanted to talk about, and then it just suddenly…ended. Without talking about any of them.
TLDR: I liked Hum, but I can’t recommend it. I thought there was serious potential, and another (intensive) round of editing could have easily made this a four-star read for me. I would certainly try another title from this author.
A sincere thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for providing an advance copy in exchange for an honest review!
September 10, 2025
The real horror were the children who constantly disrespected the parents.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,975 reviews