Hum is an extraordinary novel by the National Book Award–longlisted author Helen Phillips. It tells the story of a wife and mother named May, who, after losing her job to artificial intelligence, undergoes a radical procedure that makes her invisible to surveillance systems.

Set in a city ravaged by climate change and inhabited by intelligent robots known as 'hums,' May's decision to alter her face to escape detection is driven by desperation to clear her family's debt and secure their future. The narrative follows her as she invests in a brief escape to the Botanical Garden, a sanctuary of natural beauty, hoping it will heal her family's reliance on technology.

However, the supposed tranquility is short-lived as her family's safety is compromised, pushing May to rely on a hum with dubious intentions. Hum is a riveting work of speculative fiction, examining themes of marriage, motherhood, and identity against a backdrop of environmental decay and rapid technological progress. It presents a world filled with both dystopian and utopian elements, compelling readers to confront the unsettling realities of our times.

HOW THE DISENCHANTMENT OF EMPIRE LED TO CLIMATE CHANGE.

While industrial states competed to colonize Asia and Africa in the nineteenth century, conversion to Christianity was replaced by a civilizing mission. This new secular impetus strode hand in hand with racial capitalism in the age of empires: a terrestrial paradise was to be achieved through accumulation and the ravaging of nature.

Far from a defence of religion, The States of the Earth argues that phenomena such as evangelism and political Islam are best understood as products of empire and secularization. In a world where material technology was considered divine, religious and secular forces both tried to achieve Heaven on Earth by destroying Earth itself.

We Loved It All: A Memory of Life by Lydia Millet is an intimate evocation of the glory of nature, our vexed position in the animal kingdom, and the difficulty of adoring what we destroy. In her first work of nonfiction, acclaimed novelist Lydia Millet offers a genre-defying tour de force that makes an impassioned argument for people to see their emotional and spiritual lives as infinitely dependent on the lives of nonhuman beings.

Drawing on a quarter-century of experience as an advocate for endangered species at the Center for Biological Diversity, Millet offers intimate portraits of what she calls “the others”―the extraordinary animals with whom we still share the world, along with those already lost. Humans, too, fill this book, as Millet touches on the lives of her world-traveling parents, fascinating partners and friends, and colorful relatives, from diplomats to nut farmers―all figures in the complex tapestry each of us weaves with the surrounding world.

Written in the tradition of Annie Dillard or Robert Macfarlane, We Loved It All is an incantatory work that will appeal to anyone concerned about the future of life on earth―including our own.

H Is for Hawk meets Joan Didion in the Pyrocene in this arresting combination of memoir, natural history, and literary inquiry that chronicles one woman's experience of life in Northern California during the worst fire season on record. Told in luminous, perceptive prose, The Last Fire Season is a deeply incisive inquiry into what it really means—now—to live in relationship to the elements of the natural world.

When Manjula Martin moved from the city to the woods of Northern California, she wanted to be closer to the wilderness that she had loved as a child. She was also seeking refuge from a health crisis that left her with chronic pain, and found a sense of healing through tending her garden beneath the redwoods of Sonoma County. But the landscape that Martin treasured was an ecosystem already in crisis. Wildfires fueled by climate change were growing bigger and more frequent: each autumn, her garden filled with smoke and ash, and the local firehouse siren wailed deep into the night.

In 2020, when a dry lightning storm ignited hundreds of simultaneous wildfires across the West and kicked off the worst fire season on record, Martin, along with thousands of other Californians, evacuated her home in the midst of a pandemic. Both a love letter to the forests of the West and an interrogation of the colonialist practices that led to their current dilemma, The Last Fire Season, follows her from the oaky hills of Sonoma County to the redwood forests of coastal Santa Cruz, to the pines and peaks of the Sierra Nevada, as she seeks shelter, bears witness to the devastation, and tries to better understand fire's role in the ecology of the West. As Martin seeks a way to navigate the daily experience of living in a damaged body on a damaged planet, she comes to question her own assumptions about nature and the complicated connections between people and the land on which we live.