Review: A Prayer for the Crown-Shy by Becky Chambers (2022)
Bite-sized philosophy that was charming, but didn't quite fill me up.
A Prayer for the Crown-Shy is the second book in the Monk and Robot series by Becky Chambers. It’s the sequel to A Psalm for the Wild-Built, which won the 2022 Hugo Award for Best Novella.
The story follows the journeys of Sibling Dex, a somewhat famous tea-monk (one who goes around serving tea, serving as a spiritual therapist), and Mosscap, a wild robot that has been living in the forests away from humanity. Dex and Mosscap met during the course of the first book, and now they leave the wilds and journey across the rest of Panga, the habitable moon they live on. This book is framed by Mosscap’s driving question: “What do humans need?”, and the quest to find an answer.
“Well, that's the nice thing about trees," Mosscap put its hands on its hips as it looked around. "They're not going anywhere. You can take all the time you need to get to know them.”
Like its predecessor A Psalm for the Wild-Built, the strengths of A Prayer for the Crown-Shy lie in its philosophical musings. These lessons are often explored through dialogue between Mosscap and Dex, as the inquisitive robot experiences the world with the patient monk by its side. These are the best parts of the book, and there are a few instances where the world and the characters align and say something profound about the human condition.
“It was always a strange thing, coming home. Coming home meant that you had, at one point, left it and, in doing so, irreversibly changed”.
These moments can be deeply charming. They lead to things like Mosscap riding a jet-ski, learning to hold a baby, or struggling with fishing. Chambers succeeds in building a warm, welcoming world for our characters, where Mosscap’s guiding question of “What do humans need?” can be explored with nuance—albeit optimistic nuance. The defining characteristic of Panga is the optimism of Chambers’ humanity: these are folks who are kind, helpful, unselfish, and largely want for nothing. In my eyes, this is a critical piece of understanding whether these are books for you—this is a story with no selfish antagonists or even harmful actions, it is hopeful and pure and self-reflective. Whether that comes off as relaxing and comfortable or twee and saccharine is going to be largely dependent on the mood and preferences of the reader.
“On the contrary, every tree was lush and full, bursting with green life. Yet somehow, in the absence of contact, they knew exactly where to stop growing outward so that they might give their neighbors space to thrive.”
But unlike Psalm, where so much of the dialogue was limited by the isolation of Dex and Mosscap, Prayer lacks that isolation as the pair travels through town after town, seeking wisdom from others. To me, this made for a slightly weaker book. Instead of tight back-and-forth dialogue between the two leads, it’s often with random townspeople interacting with them. Don’t get me wrong here—it isn’t all bad, and there are some great moments crafted by these side characters, but they just don’t feel as developed as a whole. They often feel fleeting, quickly disappearing entirely after they impart some wisdom to the group. Frequently they don’t even get a proper goodbye, and it presumably happens offscreen between the chapters. Perhaps this is an intentional feeling by Chambers: after all, people enter our lives, impact us, and then leave all the time. But to me the ephemerality felt a bit more forced than I’d like.
“You don’t have to have a reason to be tired. You don’t have to earn rest or comfort. You’re allowed to just be.”
Sibling Dex, in his capacity as a renowned tea monk, would undoubtedly say that a key requirement of perfect tea is allowing it to steep; letting it soak in the water long enough to be powerful. With this in mind, it is unfortunate that Chambers doesn’t let the reader steep in this world longer. Several chapters felt weaker than they should have, and I can’t shake the feeling that a little bit of extra length in each scene would have done wonders. While this book manages some strong, authentic moments, I’m still not convinced that Chambers can excel at the novella length, and the end result here was a middling read overall.
You should read A Prayer for the Crown-Shy if:
You want a quick read that is driven by dialogues, not plot.
You enjoyed A Psalm for the Wild-Built. This is more of the same.
Bite-sized and positive examinations of human nature sound appealing to you.