Reflections - A Psalm for the Wild-Built

A Psalm for the Wild Built

Charlie gave Spence A Psalm for the Wild-Built for Christmas. Spence handed the novel to me after he read it. “It starts slow and gets preachy at the end. But you’ll love it.”

The preface, describing six monks’ opinions of robot consciousness was dry, but I did relate to the beginning sentence of chapter one. “Sometimes, a person reaches a point in life when it becomes absolutely essential to get the fuck out of the city.” (page 5)

However, Chambers jerked me out of the flow between chapters one and two. Her character Sibling Dex, using they pronouns and extremely sensitive to people’s feelings, is a flop at their vocation tea monk. Then suddenly, they is the best tea monk. Chambers writing “two years later” for a transition did not satisfy me. I felt cheated.

I kept reading for the lush language—

Here, the trees were taller than any building you’d find outside the City, their branches locked like pious fingers against the distant sky. Only the slightest threads of sun broke through, illuminating waxy needles in eerie glow. (page 45)

—and because Spence said, “But you haven’t met the robot yet.”

Splendid Speckled Mosscap meets Dex when they had taken a shower in the wilderness and forgotten their towel—a hilarious scene.

Mosscap, preferring the pronoun it, comes across as more human than Dex. It delights in nature and in new experiences. Mosscap is on an adventure to discover what humans need. Dex is traveling to Hart's Brow hermitage in search of meaning.

They and it are both lonely. They and it discover each other’s companionship as the meaning they sought. In the end, Mosscap makes a not-so-great tea for Dex, which they drink with pleasure. Dex plans the route they’ll take Mosscap on to observe and interview humans.

Aunt Marge's words from long ago resonated. “It’s the people that matter.” In this case, having a special companion to understand and care about you is what matters.