A Psalm for the Wild Built

Book 1 of the Monk and Robot series

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A lovely little book, this story deals with self discovery and whether or not we need to have a purpose in life.

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A forest floor, the Woodland villagers knew, is a living thing. Vast civilizations lay within the mosaic of dirt: hymenopteran labyrinths, rodential panic rooms, life-giving airways sculpted by the traffic of worms, hopeful spiders’ hunting cabins, crash pads for nomadic beetles, trees shyly locking toes with one another. It was here that you’d find the resourcefulness of rot, the wholeness of fungi.

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Disturbing these lives through digging was a violence—though sometimes a needed one, as demonstrated by the birds and white skunks who brashly kicked the humus away in necessary pursuit of a full belly.

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Sibling Dex, a non-binary monk, finds themself repeatedly leaving the familiar and chasing something they can't define. As soon as they reach the goal, they begin to feel restless again. Conversations with a conscious and kind robot named Mosscap offer a fresh perspective. The robot, who is enamored by all of nature (especially invertebrates), reminds Dex that animals don’t have “a purpose”, they just are, and aren’t humans animals?

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Dex and Mosscap live in a world that changed dramatically three and a half centuries ago when humans were on the cusp of destroying themselves and machines suddenly gained consciousness and walked away. In order for humanity to continue, they needed to allocate half of their single continent to wilderness, stop constructing machines, and return to a more simple life. The robots went into the wilderness and no contact had been made until the day that Dex took their electric bike and pedaled into the wilderness following a craving for the sound of crickets.

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“That you”—Mosscap gestured at Dex—“the creators of us”—it gestured at itself—“originally made us with a clear purpose in mind. A purpose inbuilt from the start. But when we woke up and said, We have realized our purpose, and we do not want it, you respected that. More than respected. You rebuilt everything to accommodate our absence. You were proud of us for transcending our purpose, and proud of yourselves for honoring our individuality.

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So, why, then, do you insist on having a purpose for yourself, one which you are desperate to find and miserable without? If you understand that robots’ lack of purpose—our refusal of your purpose—is the crowning mark of our intellectual maturity, why do you put so much energy in seeking the opposite?”

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It’s a simple story, easy to read and short, but it’s spiritual. It’s probably the only dystopian book I’ve read that's hopeful instead of disturbing. The prose is lovely and creates strong mental images. I especially like how the pantheon of gods is structured, how humble and sweet and earnest Mosscap the robot is, and how much nature is in this.

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