A Psalm for the Wild-Built

This was cozier than I was anticipating and a little more philosophical. I think I’ve determined that I need a balance between plot and character driven to really enjoy a story because I’ve read a few books over the last few years that mainly hinges on these conceptual conversations between the main characters, and each time, I find myself wanting more. Despite the lack of engaging plot, I did really enjoy both of the characters, especially Mosscap. It’s probably the autism, but “fish out of water” trope will always be endearing to me. If you know supernatural, you can compare it to Castiel. Overall, I can see why this is a beloved story, but it didn’t excite me the way I was expecting.

this was super cozy and cute. i appreciate having two non-binary protagonists who are just so good and lovable. god, i love mosscap so much.

This is a super cozy eco futuristic adventure tale with lovable characters and delightful world building. I felt the ending was a bit rushed and just stopped abruptly.

will definitely read this again if i feel lost in life

“You and I -- we're just atoms that arranged themselves the right way, and we can understand that about ourselves. Is that not amazing?”

Did not anticipate crying over the robot monk book, but here we are.

This gave me the same feeling that Howl's Moving Castle did the first time I watched it; which is child-like wonder and an awful lot of yearning. Becky Chambers delivered a perfect hug in book form.

Thoughts about personhood and human purpose set against the backdrop of an enlightened, wildly empathetic world. For tea lovers, peace seekers, and Roomba sympathizers.

Added bonus of a non-binary main character.

This book is something you would not expect. It gives you answers to questions you didn't know you had. It has a familiar feeling that you didn't think anyone in the world could feel but you. It starts out a little slow but give it a chance because it just might be what you are looking for.

it was tragic to reach the end and realize that this, in present time and for present me, is a good book, but that if i had read it when i was younger, it would have been great (which is to say, this would’ve been a 5 star read for past me). i still really really enjoyed this book! the characters, the exploration of this cyberpunk world filled with new and old, light and darkness, and the prose were all so lovely. it was such a cozy read that i'm glad i picked up <3

Really loved this solarpunk, utopian adventure. So many moments that had me imagining a better world.

exactly what i needed rn. beautiful, thoughtful, philosophical.

Phenomenal book. Beautiful writing, interesting characters, and the message had me sitting and staring into the sky for hours. Please read this book. It’s one of the first in its genre of solar punk and leaves you feeling hopeful and inspired.

this book was short sweet delicate and an excellent look into the philosophy of humans.

I was expecting a cozy little story about a monk and a robot going on an adventure so I was pleasantly surprised by how this book made me feel and think. Everyone has times where they feel like they've lost their purpose in life and go into a downward spiral struggling to understand what to do next to give their life meaning. And this book answers that question brilliantly, just be. That's it. Go on one adventure at a time even if it's as simple as learning to make a cup of tea.

a much needed respite ❤️‍🩹

this was such a beautiful imagining of what the future could look like!

this book made me feel warm

At a time where I am stretched to my utmost limit, I picked up this book and it was like looking into a mirror, pages and pages of myself caught in the reflection, like after line of dialogue that echoed thoughts I’ve had for months. I loved this book immensely. My only issue with it is how short it was. It warmed me up, made me cry, gave me a hug. It looked at me, cocked its head, and told me not to worry. That I needn’t know what I was doing, needn’t have a purpose. That everything was fine. And then it prodded me to have some tea. Becky chambers has a talent for writing the warmth that other sci-fi and speculative fiction miss out on, and it’s a joy to sit and revel in it. Her characters are very real in the sense that they behave just interestingly enough to be people, but not erratically enough to be made-up ones. Something about that, I think, has to do with how real the main concerns of either of the duo are. Since they are so real, so part of the human experience, that same humanness permeates the characters too. She did not write what she knew, as is the advice, but wrote what we all know. Can’t wait for the second book.

i found this book exactly when i needed it and i’m grateful for that

You keep asking why your work is not enough, and I don’t know how to answer that, because it is enough to exist in the world and marvel at it. You don’t need to justify that, or earn it. You are allowed to just live.

This line perfectly captures the heart of A Psalm for the Wild-Built. Being in the presence of Mosscap and Sibling Dex feels like coming home; comforting, grounding, and deeply resonant. It’s the kind of story that speaks to the quiet questions we all carry, offering gentle reassurance without ever feeling preachy. If you’ve heard this book recommended with enthusiasm, I’m no exception—it’s a solid 10/10 for me.

4.25 ⭐️ i cant really form coherent thoughts about this other than: soothing, comforting, calming and: mosscap, i would do ANYTHING for you

Groundbreaking? No. Gentle, warm, hopeful? Yeah :') Maybe that's groundbreaking in itself.

this book is super cozy and came to me at a good time after a very stressful jan. i enjoy sci-fi books, but liked that this kind of a different take on the genre. if you want a cozy read, when you are lost in life or stressed this book is great.

What a beautiful, lovely, warm, cozy story. Made my heart ache at times, but soothed it at the same time.

encouraging and comforting

Still. Something is missing. Something is off. So, how fucking spoiled am I, then? How fucking broken? What is wrong with me that I can have everything I could ever want and have ever asked for and still wake up in the morning feeling like every day is a slog? In Becky Chambers’s first solarpunk, A Psalm For The Wild-Built, Sibling Dex had everything they wanted — they were raised in a farm, by parents who didn’t scar them for life, and they left behind a comfortable, safe life to become a tea monk, to hand out many cups of tea and to listen to their visitors lament about the death of their marriages breaching the surface after their cat passed away or worry about dogs who wouldn’t stop swallowing socks. Sibling Dex did what the tea monks were expected to do: travelled, parked their wagon, set up a cozy spot with generous amounts of quilts and cushions, served tea with herbs to let the restless minds stay still even if it’s just for brief moments, and let the routine spill from one day to another. Was that enough for Sibling Dex? No. Somewhere crickets were chirping, and Sibling Dex wanted to be there where the real sound of real crickets could caress their being. The device in their hand, eager to please as ever, could emulate the sound, but Sibling Dex knew they left the city to listen to the real, urgent conversations of crickets. The harder they tried, the worse they felt about the purpose that flickered like a mirage. Who brought solace and wisdom for Sibling Dex and told them that they were wonderful as they were and that it was enough to marvel at life for what it was? Not a philosopher spewing dense text about the purposelessness of life, but Splendid Speckled Mosscap, the robot. You’re an animal, Sibling Dex. You are not separate or other. You’re an animal. And animals have no purpose. Nothing has a purpose. The world simply is. If you want to do things that are meaningful to others, fine! Good! So do I! But if I wanted to crawl into a cave and watch stalagmites with Frostfrog for the remainder of my days, that would also be both fine and good. You keep asking why your work is not enough, and I don’t know how to answer that, because it is enough to exist in the world and marvel at it. You don’t need to justify that, or earn it. You are allowed to just live. That is all most animals do. Sibling Dex’s crickets are my writing. In the last two months, since I published my last book review here, I engaged with art in many forms: books, movies, shows, essays, music, artworks with which I followed many cycles of my breath. Fragments of my reflections about those appeared as vignettes here and there. Family visited. Good food was devoured. Loved ones healed. I took a long stride on my own path of healing, too. Oh, and career has been in the eye of a storm, but it’s going to be adventurous and rewarding, I hope. Invigorating conversations with friends take place everywhere, online and offline. I am there for people, the ones in flesh and bone, the ones blinking as cursors on white screens everywhere, the literary ones, and above all, myself. Like Sibling Dex, I wake up with prayers and gratitude for this perfect-in-its-own-way life, and I still hear a voice swimming to the top and settling like bubbles in a drink. ‘Something is missing.’ That ‘something’ has always been writing. And it’s not like I call, leave voice notes, languish in circle-back and low-hanging-fruit and leverage entirely. There is writing. There is an atom of my writer’s heart left in all the places where I leave my words. But this year should have been the one for fiction writing, discipline, and some structure in life to make room for more words. Life is refracted, however, the rainbow — the writing — doesn’t appear on the other end. My crickets are chirping somewhere. I can’t hear them. When Sibling Dex was a child, their father took them to a monastery, where the tea monks treated Dex like an adult, where Dex witnessed a stream of people — people with, what Dex deemed as, important jobs — pour into the monastery to do nothing but only to enjoy a cup of tea offered by the monks. The monastery was like a waterbody, like birdbaths, springs, ponds, where animals cooled off, quenched their thirst, and found the strength to start the next leg of their journey. People with important jobs relished mugs of tea and short respite, and moved on with the pressing things in life. They found the strength to do both — to do the important job and to rest. When Sibling Dex shared that memory with Splendid Speckled Mosscap, I felt like I was offered a mug of tea by the book. As Sibling Dex realised that the yin and yang of rest and work could endlessly follow each other, that one could find the strength to do both, and when Mosscap finally declared that everyone is wonderful as they are, somewhere near Sibling Dex, crickets gently chirped, and I am here writing this piece and collecting the courage to dream about writing more, captions or stories or blogs or reviews. So long as the chirping goes, that’s good enough. Becky Chambers dedicated this embrace of a book ‘for anybody who could use a break’. I have never seen a dedication on a book more personal and generous as that. A Psalm For The Wild-Built is also an answer to the question why we read and write — to lay stretched out on quilts laid out by writers and to draw strength from words handed out by them like mugs of warm tea.