Hum
by Helen Phillips
Reviewed by Galen Strickland
Posted July 24, 2024
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I received a digital review copy of this book from Net Galley in exchange for an honest review. All but one of the advance books I got this year are from authors new to me. Some were debut novels, but Hum is the sixth novel from Helen Phillips, most of her others being speculative fiction, even if marketed as literary fiction. She also has several novellas and story collections. It is part dystopian, part utopian, depending on how you view some of the tech, but there is one aspect that doesn't make much sense. A hum is an AI-powered mechanical being. They are employed in many industries, including the medical professions, and as therapists. The latter may be something they took on themselves, since they have access to all of a person's information, if they can identify the person.
The last thing is part of what doesn't make sense. There are security cameras and sensors everywhere, with sophisticated face-recognition software, including within each hum. Why would a company be allowed to perform a medical procedure on a person to thwart facial recognition? If it is a secret project, how did May Webb's friend know of it? Also, why would the company pay a patient to have the procedure performed, rather than the other way around? Is it intended to be a future type of security? If so, who is directing it and what are their motives? Due to other AI developments, May has lost her job. Her husband, Jem Clarke, works the gig economy, mostly handyman jobs, plumbing or electrical repair, but he is also very good at setting and retrieving mouse traps. The amount of money May receives, deposited to her account almost immediately after the procedure, is more than she and Jem have ever had. She decides to splurge on a holiday for the family. I'm not sure how far into the future this is set, maybe 20 or 30 years. Climate change has ravaged the countryside, heat in the cities almost unbearable. It takes a lot of money to book a stay in the Botanical Gardens, but now May has enough for her, Jem, and their two children, Lu and Sy.
Most all tech is tied to advertising and selling product, including hums. If interacting with a hum there is a short period of time before they will present an ad, and to avoid advertising you have to pay extra. The same applies to phones, the reason phones are inexpensive. Children are required to have devices for school work, "bunnies," worn on the wrist, which include a screen and speaker. They are also cheap due to the ads. Something else it seems everyone has in their home, and there are four in the Webb-Clarke apartment, are wooms. That is a conflation of the words room and womb. Each can escape the others for meditation or media consumption, and of course, advertising makes them cheap. You get only eight minutes in your woom before the ads begin. Something else is wrong about the procedure May had done. Whenever a hum or other mechanical device does not recognize her, all she has to do is submit her fingerprint. She is then recognized, and the transaction can proceed. There is only one instance where she has to go through a different procedure, her fingerprint not being enough.
Good SF is as much about the people as it is the technology. Told in third-person, but from May's perspective. Her joblessness was not her fault, but Jem always seems to imply it was, or at least she feels he does. He is under pressure to get as many gigs as possible, so he resents her planning the holiday without consulting him. She thinks of herself as a good mother, but also has conflicts with her children. They are obsessed with their bunnies and their wooms, and Jem is always on his phone, ignoring her. She wants to do something good for her family. Was it a mistake to insist the children relinquish their bunnies for three days, and she and Jem to give up their phones? All of those devices might have made their stay more enjoyable, being able to search for information on the plants and animals they were seeing. The children are mad at her for taking their bunnies away, going as far as saying they hate her for doing so. She starts to miss her phone, then angered to learn Jem has sneaked his into the park. When does technology turn from a useful tool to a harmful obsession? Is the obsession harmful if it brings one joy? Are hums beneficial tools, or potential threats? Depending on how you interpret the epilogue, there are several alternate answers to those questions. I can't give this a strong recommendation, but it kept my interest.
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