Book two of Becky Chamber’s Wayfarer series, A Closed and Common Orbit, was – for me – better than the first. You wonder whether I liked it more because it is preoccupied with what it means to be human? With what agency and identity is owed a sentient AI intelligence? With what we owe in respect, or time, or care, or compassion for other species – particular the AI kind? Well… yes. Yes that is why I liked it more.
I am, as they say, a little obsessed with wondering about our AI future. And while I have a new job that is 96% less AI then my previous one, I find myself still reading the things and listening and thinking and wondering – (like maybe we all ought to stop investing in our retirements when super intelligence is years away, but then what respectable millennial has a decent retirement plan, anyway?).
Right, so what this book does so well is mirror the question of what makes a worthy life by having Pepper’s (from the first book) origin story as raised-by-an-AI-system-bound-within-a-ship contrasted against the AI Lovelace’s reinstallation in a human body ‘kit’ with the new name Sidra and taken care of by Pepper. AI raises human; human raises AI.
It’s not an overly sophisticated plot structure, but it manages to avoid feeling overdetermined and heavy. Instead, the weaving of questions of embodiment (with a particularly brilliant description of Sidra’s navigation of new physical spaces by way of creeping along the walls) and filiation read as gentle provocations to (re)imagine what it might mean to be worthy of rights.
There are also just some spectacularly engaging scenes: Sidra getting a tattoo, Pepper trapped in a hole with a broken leg being hunted by hungry dogs, the crew trying to break into a museum to rescue Owl. Oh and the scene where Sidra dances and for a moment – just a moment – begins to feel the breadth of what it means to be in a body.*
I’m not sure you need to read the first book in the series to appreciate and enjoy this second installment, but there are enough callbacks to the first that you might find a few moments perplexing without having read it. That said, if you’re not ready to commit to a whole sci-fi series, I say start with this one. I really loved it. (Thanks, M., for the prompt to read it).
*I’ve read or heard a host of arguments lately that dancing approximates god or brings connection to god and I don’t know why that idea is having its particular vogue moment, but those in search of a text to ground this spiritual exploration could do worse that Sidra grinding up against an Aandrisk.
Literary Vice 