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A review by kris_mccracken
A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers
4.0
Becky Chambers' "A Closed and Common Orbit" does what few sequels dare: eschewing the broad strokes of its predecessor to focus on something quieter, subtler and far more personal. The narrative shifts away from the Wayfarer crew, which featured in the first book, to two fringe figures: Sidra, a sentient AI grappling with life in an illicit synthetic body, and Pepper, the gifted engineer who orchestrated this precarious rebirth. This isn't a sequel of escalating stakes or galaxy-spanning peril but a meditation on identity, belonging and the fragile art of becoming oneself.
The novel deftly intertwines two timelines. Sidra's journey unfolds in the present as she wrestles with the dissonance of being an artificial consciousness trapped in a body too human for comfort. Her struggle to adapt feels authentic, and her growing pains are handled with empathy and detail. Parallel to this is the haunting backstory of young Jane 23, a clone labourer enduring the brutal confines of a manufacturing facility. Jane's eventual escape and bond with the ship's AI, Owl, form the crucible that forges her into Pepper, tying her arc to Sidra's in a way that feels both organic and profound.
Chambers balances gritty plausibility with charm, crafting a universe where high-tech grit coexists with moments of warmth and hope. Her world-building feels tangible but never overbearing, its texture drawn as much from the characters' relationships as from its technological trappings. The Galactic Commons is progressive to a fault, its inclusivity bordering on utopian, yet this idealism is leavened by the personal struggles of Sidra and Pepper. These protagonists are shaped not by abstract concepts but by histories that deny their personhood and force them to create meaning where none was offered.
The novel's emotional core lies in its relationships. Sidra's bond with Pepper is a study in contrasts, tentative yet deeply felt, blending mentorship and friendship with a hint of maternal tension. Meanwhile, Pepper's backstory and her heartbreaking connection to Owl add layers of poignancy, capturing the ache of unconditional love between machine and organic.
Where the novel occasionally falters is in its almost obstinate optimism. While the celebration of diversity is uplifting, it skims over the Galactic Commons' rougher edges, favouring hope over complexity. Still, this idealism is part of the novel's charm, a gentle reminder that even in a universe teeming with flaws, kindness and connection endure.
With "A Closed and Common Orbit", Chambers proves she's not merely a builder of worlds but an artist of humanity. This is science fiction at its most introspective, small in scale but vast in heart.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
The novel deftly intertwines two timelines. Sidra's journey unfolds in the present as she wrestles with the dissonance of being an artificial consciousness trapped in a body too human for comfort. Her struggle to adapt feels authentic, and her growing pains are handled with empathy and detail. Parallel to this is the haunting backstory of young Jane 23, a clone labourer enduring the brutal confines of a manufacturing facility. Jane's eventual escape and bond with the ship's AI, Owl, form the crucible that forges her into Pepper, tying her arc to Sidra's in a way that feels both organic and profound.
Chambers balances gritty plausibility with charm, crafting a universe where high-tech grit coexists with moments of warmth and hope. Her world-building feels tangible but never overbearing, its texture drawn as much from the characters' relationships as from its technological trappings. The Galactic Commons is progressive to a fault, its inclusivity bordering on utopian, yet this idealism is leavened by the personal struggles of Sidra and Pepper. These protagonists are shaped not by abstract concepts but by histories that deny their personhood and force them to create meaning where none was offered.
The novel's emotional core lies in its relationships. Sidra's bond with Pepper is a study in contrasts, tentative yet deeply felt, blending mentorship and friendship with a hint of maternal tension. Meanwhile, Pepper's backstory and her heartbreaking connection to Owl add layers of poignancy, capturing the ache of unconditional love between machine and organic.
Where the novel occasionally falters is in its almost obstinate optimism. While the celebration of diversity is uplifting, it skims over the Galactic Commons' rougher edges, favouring hope over complexity. Still, this idealism is part of the novel's charm, a gentle reminder that even in a universe teeming with flaws, kindness and connection endure.
With "A Closed and Common Orbit", Chambers proves she's not merely a builder of worlds but an artist of humanity. This is science fiction at its most introspective, small in scale but vast in heart.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐