A Prayer for the Crown-Shy

Becky Chambers's books are exactly what I need right now. It's almost disappointing that they are so short, and so easy to read! In fact, she makes writing look easy, and every moment is a pleasure. I flew through the chapters, and I bawled my way through the last chapter. The Monk & Robot books have really resonated with me lately, and they offer both an escape and a glimpse of what a better world could look like. I'm going to have to read her Wayfarers series a bit later, as I can't get enough of her writing (although I don't want to complete it all at once).

Chambers is right; this book is for those who need a break. Although I don't have Dex's cricket or Mosscap's turtle, I do have the sounds of cicadas, the forests of Kroumirie, and fields of olive trees to get lost in, and that's exactly what I'm going to do this summer.

This novella picks up directly where A Psalm for the Wind-Built ends, but continues in a more spaced out pace. We follow Dex and Mosscap through a series of vignettes as they tour the human side of Panga, which gives Becky Chambers the opportunity to showcase more of her exquisite world building. While in the first book we learned about the history and glimpsed at a slice of human life, in this one we meet more varied communities, each with their unique spin on the prevailing hope punk aesthetic.

Unlike the first story, which relied heavily on interactions between just Dex and Mosscap, here we see them engage with different characters on their journey. In a way this dilutes the narrative; the numerous side characters are not as deeply developed, the exchanges with them not so philosophically intricate. At first I resented this difference in treatment, but by the end of it I grew to appreciate the ways in which these interactions serve as opportunities to showcase the deepening relationship between Dex and Mosscap.

If in the first book the monk and the robot were getting to know each other, here they develop a true friendship. The structure of the two stories lines up, and this one too culminates with a conversation between the two of them hearkening back to the end of the first story. And again, they reach no answers, just some insights. There's wisdom here again, and truthiness, and a touch more feel good vibes.

At first I was low-key disappointed: Mosscap's candid questions slightly annoyed me, and I was dreading the answer. The moment where the story would answer its central question: when all your basic needs are met, what else do you need?

In other stories about the meaning of life (or adjacent themes), I could always relate to the part with the questions, and end up disappointed by the answer that the characters find, because the answer specifically works for them, and not for me. It's probably impossible to answer this kind of question in a way that will satisfy every reader, so why even try in the first place?

And... well, I like the direction that the book took, especially in its last chapter. It made me think of How to do nothing, except that Jenny Odell explains you what Becky Chambers makes you experience.

Also, I just read it at home, with closed blinds due to the heat, while preparing for the heat wave that will occur during the next two days and reading about fires, drought and our general inability to address climate change fast enough. Even though the utopian aspects of the book's world didn't always work for me, it made me emotional to read a story when things actually improved and the world turned out fine.

What do you need? Well, today specifically, I needed a story like that.