A Psalm for the Wild-Built - Becky Chambers

A Psalm for the Wild-Built is the start of something new from Becky Chambers. Chambers Wayfarers series is one I’ve evangelised about here before, so I was very excited to see what she was doing next. And you know what, it really is something different. There’s still that undercurrent of warmth and charm and a hint of steel wrapped around the core of the story, but this isn’t a Wayfarers story. It’s something of its own, which, under the circumstances, is how it should be. 

On a less lyrical note, more logistical note, it’s novella length, and currently listed as Monk and Robot #1, so presumably the start of a new series. Either of those things may feel like a dealbreaker to you. I urge you not to give in to that feeling. Because Psalm is a story which I was left thinking about for days afterward. Because Psalm is a thoughtful, compelling examination of humanity, and things other than humanity. Because Psalm is a funny, warm, human story, and the non-human bits may be the most human of all of it. Because Psalm is a sci-fi story without space rockets and rayguns, but with lingering questions, with doubts, with happiness and some passion to guide your narrative way. It’s 150 pages, but those pages have so much packed in, that like a gourmet meal, you won’t notice until you reach the end. And then, much like a gourmet meal, you’ll be desperate to have some more. The story, incidentally, works as a standalone, though I for one will be looking for sequels. 

So now that I’ve rhapsodized about the flavour of the story, and the way that it made me feel, I suppose I should talk a little about what it is. It’s the story of a person, and a robot. And while that’s almost as much as I can say...it’s the core of the thing. Sibling Dex is the person. They decide to get away from their life. To become a monk, of gods clearly well known, though alluded to mostly in passing. To do something good, to be something better than they are. 

They’re looking for something. For passion, for purpose, for life. I think we all feel a bit like Sibling Dex sometimes. Someone who steps off the edge of a cliff because they might learn to fly on the way down. Someone with enough courage in their convictions to go that little further out on a limb. Someone stubborn enough to press on when something is a bad idea, and stubborn enough to see it through to becoming a good one.

 I like Dex. They’re smart, with a voice that has an edge of youth to it, but with a robust central core. A person deciding who they want to be and what they want to do. Sometimes making foolish decision whole they do it, but walking the path nonetheless. Actually, maybe we all need a little more Sibling Dex in our makeup.

And Dex walks their path in a world that is our own but not. Where fractured memories of what once was lurk at the corners of the mind. This is a slower world, a world that has not forgotten factories and luxuries and mass production, but a world more careful in what it applies and where. A world where people have survived seeming catastrophe, and now stand on the other side, trying to be something better. It’s a world of dark forests with roots breaking through concrete ruins, and a world filled with life and love and laughter. Dex’s restless energy doesn’t quite fit here, and neither, it must be said, do robots. But both are part of the world anyway

I am biting my tongue not to say any more. Because Sibling Dex will find herself in discussion with a robot, a person made of metal and parts. And that relationship is a multifaceted gem. Both people involved, in their discussion of who and what they are, what they want and need, and why - both of them are learning, and we’re learning with them. Both are, I think, trying to define themselves more. And while Dex may not be a leader or a politician, they are a person, filled with the struggles of humanity, its vices and virtues, its stubbornness and kindness. They are people, and the robot is looking for people. 

And the perspective of the robot is another thing. It isn’t entirely alien, but this is a wonderful portrayal of something which is almost but not quite human. Sentient, but other. It tries to learn and understand and grow and decide what to do and then do it. But it challenges Dex’s assumptions, and ours too, at every turn, tweaking her understanding of the underpinnings of her world. Though to be fair, on that front, Dex gives as good as they get. 

This is the story of a robot and a human. A story of two people, walking to an uncertain destination, for uncertain reasons, but doing it together. This is a clever story, a smart story, a story which quietly touches on big questions, while keeping us enthralled in the gentle, genuine drama on the page. 

In essence, what I mean is, Becky Chambers has done it again. You’ll want to read this one all at once, under the covers at night with a flashlight. This, this right here is the good stuff.