Centuries ago, the moon world of Panga stood on the brink of total collapse. With the Awakening, the robots of industry gaining
awareness and leaving their endless, pointless toil, society remade itself. Today, Panga thrives, sustainable and ecologically
balanced. But what became of the robots? They have faded to legend, long since disappeared into the re-invigorated wilderness. No
human and robot have stood face to face in generations... until now.
Sibling Dex grows restless with monastic life. Becoming a traveling tea monk, they pedal their wagon around to villages and towns
and the big City, offering brews and comfort and a sympathetic ear to those in need. For a time, that helps, but then the
restlessness returns, a wild and reckless impulse to hear for themselves a sound they've only ever heard on old recordings: a
cricket song. Crickets didn't fare well in the collapse, and only a few populations survive in the most remote of places, like the
long-abandoned Hart's Brow Hermitage. When Dex turns their ox-bike wagon toward the abandoned roads of the wilderness, they become
the first human in ages to encounter a robot when they meet Mosscap. Like Dex, it is on its own journey of discovery. In exchange
for information about humanity, Mosscap acts as guide and companion for the tea monk, who quickly realizes just how far out of
their element, in every way, they have traveled.
Review
Becky Chambers writes hopeful, cozy tales of brighter futures and better societies, a nice break in a genre that tends to skew
darker and heavier and more pessimistic. Sometimes it's good to change perspectives, to see a light at the end of the tunnel that
isn't an oncoming planet-killer asteroid of a train, but sometimes it can feel a little... I don't want to say "preachy", but
mildly self-righteous, as if the only reason people see dark things or feel unsettled or uncertain or end up stuck in bad places
(or living in self-destructing civilizations) is because they simply aren't enlightened enough to do better.
As Dex pushes themselves in new directions, driven by a restlessness even they can't quantify, they make sure the reader
appreciates just how wonderful and utopian Panga has become, how much better everything is now. But even this perfect image of a
sustainable civilization can't satisfy that nameless itch that first drove Dex from the monastery, for all that they still believe
in the lessons of the world's Six Gods (which seem to be less independent anthropomorphic identities than embodiments of ideas and
principles, objects of meditation more than supplication). Mosscap provides a needed new perspective, for all that the meeting
isn't without its bumps and misunderstandings. The robot is endlessly curious about everything, both like and unlike the curious
tea monk, offering its own lessons to enlighten Dex (and, naturally, the reader). There's a definite charm about their
relationship and inevitable partnership and how they relate to their world.
There isn't much of a plot or strong story arc here, more of a series of incidents in Dex's travels and continued search to
satiate an inner yearning even they can't articulate, so the ending isn't so much a satisfactory conclusion or answer as a resting
point along a journey that may well be endless. While there's a certain sense of wonder and gentleness about the book and Panga,
and it is nice to see something unrelentingly positive about the world's ability to recover from even the worst human civilization
can throw at it, at some point I felt less like I was exploring a new world and more like I was being smothered under pillows
while someone tried to convince me that I'd be a better person if I liked tea, enough to keep the story down to four stars in the
ratings even though parts wanted to rise above that. I'm sure that says something dark and cynical and irrevocably broken about
my own inner nature. Or maybe I'm still just more of a cocoa person than a tea drinker...
At the close of the twenty-second century, space exploration rides largely on the work of crowdfunded nonprofit efforts, sending astronauts
to explore distant planets - not for potential colonies or resource mining, but for the sake of exploration itself, seeking answers to
questions about life and the universe that can't be found on Earth. Ariadne O'Neill and her three shipmates knew that the voyage would bring
great personal sacrifice: due to the time dilation effects of space travel, it would be eighty years before they returned home, and
transmissions from Earth would be at least a decade out of date by the time they reach the ship. But they always thought that there would be an
Earth to go back to... and when communications mysteriously cease, the scientists find themselves torn.
Review
I've been working overtime at my job, and finally decided that audiobooks might help relieve the tedium, so this novella - only the second
audiobook I've reviewed - got the honors of being my test case, by virtue of being relatively short, looking interesting, and being available
on Overdrive when I looked.
The story is not so much about action or a strong narrative arc as it is about the characters, the discoveries they make on their four-planet
itinerary (each planet with a different overarching mood, reflecting in some way the scientists' own states of mind), and the overall human
inclination toward exploration and science even when it brings no immediate or tangible benefit save the answering of a question (or the
discovery of new questions to ask, which to science is at least as exciting.) At times, the narrative grows wandering and circular, repeating
itself and meandering off on tangents, while at others it captures the raw sense of wonder of scientific discovery and exploring truly alien
worlds - and the psychological highs and lows of the mission, each of the four dealing with the breakthroughs, setbacks, stresses, and
isolation in their own ways. Beneath it all is a sense of hope, that somehow, despite all the setbacks and all the politics, we humans will
keep reaching outward to find untold wonders, an instinct towards discovery that will not be denied. As for the audio presentation, it was
decent and kept me listening. The whole makes for an immersive, if sometimes drifting, story.
(And, for the record, yes, it did a good job of helping work go by a little faster. I will likely be reviewing more audiobooks; even without
overtime, it's not like the job is getting any more interesting.)
Rosemary used to live in the lap of luxury on Mars, but now has given up everything she ever had to get
away from her family and old life, joining the crew of the spacecraft Wayfarer as a clerk. It's a
patched-up vessel with a crew as mismatched as its parts, from the eccentric tech Kizzy to her partner
Jenks, who has fallen in love with the shipboard AI Lovelace, from Dr. Chef - one of the last members of a
species slowly going extinct after a genocidal civil war - to Ohan, a Sianat Pair infected with a Whisperer
virus that enables great genius at the cost of a shortened lifespan. There's also an Aandrisk pilot,
Sissix, and a grouchy human algaeist, Corbin, managing the fuel vats. Rosemary can't help feeling
overwhelmed, given that she's barely set foot off a planet before, but Captain Ashby and the crew (well,
most of them, save Corbin) go out of their way to make her feel welcome.
When a new species near the galaxy's core - the Toremi, a highly isolationist and clannish species most
known for fighting each other to the death over any disagreement - is granted entry into the Galactic
Commons of intelligent races, establishing a new wormhole tunnel will be a critical first step to
establishing trade and strong diplomatic ties: a lucrative job for any wormhole-punching vessel. Though
humans are still considered lesser members of the Commons, Captain Ashby manages to land the gig for the
Wayfarer. It'll be a long standard-year of travel to reach the new world, if a short jump back
boring a new wormhole through subspace, and long hauls are the kind of trips to make or break a crew,
especially when complicated by pirates, bureaucratic barriers, equipment malfunctions, and dark secrets
ripped into the open at the worst possible times.
Review
This is another book with personal significance. The novella To Be Taught, If Fortunate was
the first audiobook I listened to at my current job - a job I left as of today, transferring to a new
role. (There's a long, irrelevant story behind that...) My new job is less likely to allow for the
copious audiobook time that I've grown used to, especially not when I'm still learning the ropes. So, to
close out my long stretch of listening, I decided to bookend things with this, another Becky Chambers
title. It, too, was enjoyable, if a little light on plot.
This is very much a character-driven tale, to the point where there's not too much else binding the events
together save the crew's interactions with each other and a few offworlders encountered along the way. For
the most part, these are interesting enough to entertain, as everyone has hidden facets and flaws that
provide friction now and again, and they all undergo some growth or challenge along the way. Rosemary, a
newcomer to the ship in particular and interstellar travel in general, becomes a convenient way for
Chambers to explain her milieu to the reader, though Rosemary is far from helpless or useless, just
somewhat naïve. And there is a general story arc involved, if a thin one, as the mixed-species crew of
the Wayfarer travels to the homeworld of the newest member of the Galactic Commons... but are
these Toremi really ready to join the multitude of starfaring races, when only one clan among them has
accepted Galactic Commons membership and is still warring with others of its kind? During the
Wayfarer's trip, the crew encounter various ways that different species (and members within
species; these are not monolithic cultures) view and interact with each other, and even on their own
ship there can be stumbles and misunderstandings. Some of the crewmembers seem unevenly developed,
though, and don't quite get a full arc or follow-through even after some revelations and transformative
moments. Corbin in particular is a flat, grumbling nobody for far too long, and Kizzy's kooky
eccentricity wanders erratically between endearing and annoying. Some of their stopovers along the way
also overstay their welcome and plot relevance, though this is very much a book where the journey is
far more than half the point. The climax feels rushed, shoehorned in to provide drama, with inadequate
buildup on a few points (that I can't get into without spoilers). The ending is reasonably satisfying,
but also feels like it's partway through some larger journey... and, from what I can tell from blurbs,
it looks like the rest of the series wanders away from the Wayfarer (despite the series being
named after the ship), so I'm unlikely to find closure on those fronts if I read on.
Still, for all that I sometimes got a little antsy wishing the story would just get on with things
already and stop lingering so long over little moments and philosophical discussions and quirky
characters being quirky, I will say I remained interested and entertained for the most part as I
listened to it, which was enough to keep The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet at a four-star
Good rating. On another day, in another mood, I could see where I might be extra-harsh and trim it a
half-star, but not today.