I have just finished Hellsans by Ever Dundas. It took me a little longer than I intended, largely because I struggled at times to maintain my attention. That difficulty, I think, comes down to how long it takes for the universe to make sense. There is very little exposition or direct explanation of what is happening in this near-future society, and much of the novel relies on the reader slowly assembling the rules of the world from context.
By the end, it becomes clear that society is at a crossroads. One part of the population is functioning well, but in a Brave New World–adjacent twist, they are not blissed out by drugs. Instead, they are affected by a font. Yes, a typeface.
The titular Hellsans is the font used by advertisers, corporations, and governments, and it has a profoundly soothing, even euphoric effect on most people. It is described as almost orgasmic in its influence. Hellsans is emblazoned across city centres and workplaces, subtly shaping behaviour and emotional states. People are influenced by it, though not rendered emotionless.
Notably, one of the two main characters, Jane, is anything but blissed out throughout the novel, even before she develops a Hellsans allergy. And yes, that is exactly what it sounds like.
A portion of society are HSAs—people who are allergic to the font. Exposure causes their skin to break out in sores, makes them extraordinarily fragile, leads to tooth loss, uncontrollable vomiting, and severe disorientation. Prolonged exposure can be fatal. These people are effectively excluded from mainstream society and forced to live in dilapidated ghettos.
Jane is the CEO of “The Company,” which develops and sells Inexes. Inexes are never fully described, but in my mind they resemble biomechanical lemur-like creatures: personal AI companions that sit on your shoulders, eat bugs and spiders in your home, communicate telepathically, and offer constant support. This includes a tendency to suggest guided meditation during moments of stress, much to the frustration of every character whose perspective we inhabit.
The Company also produces Inos—less sophisticated household robots that clean and maintain homes but lack the personality and neural integration of the Inexes.
The second main character is Icho, a researcher working on a medical treatment that would allow HSAs to reintegrate into society and tolerate exposure to the Hellsans-saturated environment.
The novel opens by throwing us straight into a life-or-death situation involving Icho, and the narrative alternates between Jane’s and Icho’s perspectives. If this review sounds complicated, that is because the book is. There is extensive world-building and a strong reliance on showing rather than telling. I respect that approach and think it is used intentionally and, in some ways, effectively.
That said, Hellsans did not particularly light me up.
I found Jane to be an absolutely abhorrent character in every way, and when one of the two main protagonists is that unlikeable, it becomes very difficult to care about her fate. Icho, unfortunately, is not much better. If this is where society is headed, count me out.
Overall, I would give Hellsans three arachnid-munching robot friends out of five. Not a terrible novel, but certainly not one I would rush to recommend.
