To Be Taught, If Fortunate

by Becky Chambers

[nannah]

This is my second attempt at reading Becky Chambers--I apologize to the Wayfarer’s trilogy--but her name is big in sci-fi at the moment, so I felt I’d be doing her a huge disservice if I didn’t at least try another of her works. Especially since she writes diverse sci-fi. So, here I am, but I think though I genuinely applaud her ideas and her inclusiveness, I might just accept that she’s not for me.

Content warnings
- cr ableist slur
- implied eugenics (gene therapy)
- suicide attempt

Representation
- poly main cast
- an MC is asexual
- an MC is a trans man
- an MC is bi and another is sapphic

Ariadne and her three other crewmates are part of a space exploration program that believes, instead of transforming exoplanets to suit human life, astronauts and colonists should transform themselves. This novella is divided into four parts, one for each planet the crew travels to on their research mission to see if humans have the potential to survive on them. And back on Earth, time passes as normal, society changes, and priorities shift--though the crew’s do not. They aim to study the new planets and send their findings back home.

My first impression of this book was wondering why I was being spoken to as though I were a child. The Long Way … was not this painful to read, so it's not the author's writing style. Was there confusion as to what Becky Chambers wanted from Ariadne’s PoV? Or her reports for the people back home on Earth, or the level of detail she wanted/needed (or needed for the word count), etc.? if Ariadne is giving us, the readers, details and internal monologuing, that’s exactly what’s in the record for people on Earth. So these weirdly, incredibly detailed accounts of Ariadne waking up, removing her catheter, and then going into a sidetracked tangent about how she’s seen sci-fi movies where there are no walls in this section of the spaceship, but when waking from torpor, they need them for privacy (aka, normal internal monologuing). It seems a strange decision to consciously add into a report for back home. I know that one explanation for this patronizing style could be because reports from Earth stopped coming in, and the crew no longer knows how high of a priority their mission is anymore--or if science is even a priority. But that’s further along in the novella, after they must have already sent several reports back already (correct me if I’m wrong!), and Ariadne narrates this way from the very beginning. Even if what we’re reading is her first report, the baby talking just makes for a very annoying reading experience.

Now that my main grievance is out of the way, I have to add that there really are also some stellar passages with fantastic content and writing! “They’d been sold on a vision of discovery and progress accessible to everyone. A global mindset. An enlightened humanity. Instead, they found that dream inextricably, cr*pplingly anchored to the very founts of nationalistic myopia and materialistic greed that said dream was antithetical to.” (ugh, except for the word I hate.) The slightly meandering internal monologues are by far my favorite parts--when Ariadne talks about humanity or about the future, or the OCA, etc. Once a character opens their mouth, the magic seems to disappear a little bit. I think it has to do with Chambers favoring banter over communicative dialogue--even including meme!--which feels especially off in a story that wants to say so much. But this is all very subjective!

Another subjective note … but I thought this when reading her first Wayfarers book, too … I’m growing less and less fond of what people are praising as “casual representation”. That is, when there is diversity, but when it doesn’t play a big part of the story--or like in this book, at all. An example of this would be: a character is gay, but the story isn’t about him being gay or about gay topics. Unfortunately, I hate this, because what I'm seeing more and more is a jump to the opposite extreme. Way extreme. I wish I had saved a photo of a better example, but what I have is: in Ariadne’s internal monologue, she thinks about her crewmate, “Chikondi’s not interested in sex--with me or anyone else--but …” and that's it about Chikondi's asexuality. Is it really representation if authors do nothing but namedrop or randomly reference it? If they don’t do the work to get what/who they’re representing right or delve into what makes a culture so rich or a sexuality unique or how it affects a person’s life, etc.? Are we really able to see ourselves in these characters or are we still so parched for rep that we’re projecting onto and praising a mirage?

Okay, so the book does pick up near the end of the third part, and the fourth is especially good. However, “pick up” won’t necessarily mean there’s action and what you might normally consider high stakes in sci-fi--in case you’re used to that sort of thing. This is a slow-moving and mostly intellectual plot (without being inaccessible!) all the way through. And that’s something I actually love about it. It's something recognize from Ursula K. Le Guin, one of my favorites. I also really like the ending, even if I feel I still have a bit too many questions left to be truly satisfied.

I’m grateful that in this age of growing anti-intellectualism there’s someone still thinking of sci-fi beyond shiny plots ending in huge battles. So even though I didn’t necessarily enjoy this to the extent I wish I could have, I think Becky Chambers is doing great stuff in the genre.