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�From the ground, we stand. From our ships, we live. By the stars, we hope.�

Storytelling is at core of understanding a culture as culture is, in its own way, a type of collective narrative. Though, as in Becky Chambers� Record of a Spaceborn Few� one begins to wonder if the connotative division between patriotism and propaganda is blurred when perpetuating such a narrative is essential to upholding a civilization where the reality is at odds with the stories being told. The third novel in Chambers� Wayfarer series, Record of a Spaceborn Few is the quietest book yet though also one of the most complex and interesting to me. Set aboard the Exodant fleet and following a large ensemble cast of characters (one being the family of Cpt. Ashby’s sister, Tessa), Chambers examines a sort of eutopia where everyone’s basic needs are met but overall it is beginning to crumble, especially in the eyes of the younger generation for whom �survival alone wasn’t enough� compared to their dreams which can be as vast as the cosmos. Chambers excels at crafting cultural thought experiments as sci-fi narratives and this volume furthers their extraordinary world galaxy building through deep investigation into how one overlooked group fits in context with the rest of the galactic commons. Family is a predominant theme in this series, be it found family or blood-relations, and here we see the whole fleet as a large family made up of smaller ones and how all their goals, fears, labors and loves fit together against the backdrop of a slowly dying fleet and culture. Thoughtful, heartfelt and thoroughly engrossing despite only minimal plot, Record of a Spaceborn Few is another excellent chapter in the Wayfarers series that places characters at a crossroads of safe banality and risky enterprise while exploring themes on death and family.

�We are a longstanding species with a very short memory. If we don’t keep record, we’ll make the same mistakes over and over again.�

Chambers gift to make stories out of what basically amounts to sci-fi anthropology is endlessly entertaining to me and feels very indebted to the works of the late, great Ursula K. Le Guin who also told stories via cultural examinations such as in The Left Hand of Darkness. Like that novel, Chambers inserts fictional historical accounts and anthropological writings between chapters that create context for the galaxy at large, though much of how we learn about galactic politics and daily life is gleaned through the actions and conversations of characters. Often dubbed “cozy sci-fi� for the rather heartwarming messages and characters, I would add that these books also feel so cozy because they allow you to experience them as if you are nestled inside the world which comes alive and makes sense through the complexity of its construction. Though it is perhaps Le Guin’s The Dispossessed that Record feels most akin too as much of the book sets about looking at a civilization that seems to be a sort of eutopia and examining the cracks forming in the perfect veneer their own self-mythologizing would have you believe. Because, when it comes down to it, this is a hippy commune in space that is not everything they want you to think it is.

�What was better � a constant safeness that never grew and never changed, or a life of reaching, building, striving, even though you knew you’d never be completely satisfied?�

The Exodant fleet boasts there is a home and food for every member and no job is seen as “lesser� This also includes sex work, like the character Sunny, which is seen as a form of being an entertainer not unlike a musician and Exodants are a very sex-positive culture—though this is no less embarrassing to teenagers to hear their parents speak so openly about sex which was a detail that was both humorous but also felt true (I enjoy how so much of this series is asking “how does this species think about sex?�). Self-worth is not tied to capitalist instincts and all are viewed as equally valid.

�There is no such thing as a meaningless job in the Fleet. Everything has a purpose, a recognisable benefit. If you have food on your plate, you thank a farmer. If you have clothing, you thank a textile manufacturer. If you have murals to brighten your day, you thank an artist. Even the most menial of tasks benefits someone, benefits all.�

However, the fleet technology is old (it opens with a ship equipment failure that causes a mass death), the people live meagerly, and propagating one’s own narrative is losing its luster. Particularly with younger people for whom the possibilities of the wider cosmos full of danger and potential glory seem quite attractive. This is best explored through the character Kip, who, as only a teen can so eloquently put it, says �Stars, fuck this place. Fuck these stupid rules and stupid jobs and fuck being sixteen. He was getting out...anything was better than here.� (I LOVE how Chambers has characters say �stars� like a curse word like everyone yelling ‘frak� in the rebooted ). And there is also Tessa’s daughter, Aya, who is scared of space and wants to live on the ground. Yet, for all its shortcomings, we see how the fleet can be attractive to someone like Sawyer who seeks refuge there: even a poor home and meager living is better than being broke and unhoused. As Le Guin once , �Every eutopia contains a dystopia, every dystopia contains a eutopia.�

�That’s a poisonous thing, thinking your way is all there is.�

The interactions between archivist Isabel and a Harmagian, Ghuh'loloan, were exceedingly enjoyable and ponderous (I love the aspect that humans smell bad to other species, sort of like humans to Vulcans in Star Trek) because in this way the Exodant’s cultural narrative is lit up against the larger narrative of the Galactic Commons for a more dynamic picture of everything. The Exodants are caught either falling behind keeping their old ways or accepting help and adapting, though a big lesson is � I worry about those who think adopting someone else's story means abandoning their own.� I really appreciate the angle of looking at the cultures and the galaxy as a whole as a big narrative (I mean, we process experience as a narrative in general) and how, sometimes, we need to access if the narrative is useful or harmful.

�Our species doesn’t operate by reality. It operates by stories. Cities are a story. Money is a story. Space was a story, once. A king tells us a story about who we are and why we’re great, and that story is enough to make us go kill people who tell a different story. Or maybe the people kill the king because they don’t like his story and have begun to tell themselves a different one. When our planet started dying, our species was so caught up in stories. We had thousands of stories about ourselves � that’s still true, don’t forget that for a minute � but not enough of us were looking at the reality of things. Once reality caught up with us and we started changing our stories to acknowledge it, it was too late.�

This of course details the Harmagians rejecting their own empire when faced with the consequences and horrors of their wars and creating the Commons to try to do something good and cooperative, but another aspect of Chambers novels is always how excellently their sci fi worlds correlate to present-day social issues. In the US, for example, there has been huge pushback against any mentioning of negatives in the US, like the history of slavery, leading to mass book bans and attacks on public institutions to control the narrative. But nobody is perfect and we must learn responsibility to our stories and accept reality.

�Show me a species who has never wronged another. Show me a species who has always been perfect or fair…either we are all worthy of the Commons or none of us are.�

Chambers shows how storytelling can quickly become propaganda and that facing the harsh truths is always better than dismissing them and mistaking it for patriotism. But, will the Exodants be able to adapt and how will they maintain their culture if they do (okay but it is super heartbreaking when Tessa brings up that she doesn’t understand why her brother, Ashby, is so upset over replacing his AI�).

�learn nothing of your subjects, and you will disrupt them. Learn something of your subjects, and you will disrupt them.�

Narratives, however, also show what cultures value and I find Chambers always does a wonderful job with this in their books. Family and home are a big one here, but also death. It is noted �socially unsettled [humans] become around death,� and how much this seems connected to their ideas of family, something the Harmagians find quite odd. For Eyas, this also means that in her role as caretaker for the dead she too becomes a sort of cultural narrative but she is struggling with how stifling this all feels �because I always have to be Eyas the symbol…I can only ever be this one thing.� How much do we find ourselves living stories that tell of our culture, nation, family or perhaps become a mere symbol of ourselves instead of an authentic self (paging Jean-Paul Sartre), and is this useful or merely propagating our own myths. Speaking of, I love the aspect that Exodants want to use names of the past on Earth but are bad at it, like intending to name a child Wolf but ending up with Walrus.

�Knowledge should always be free,� she said. ‘What people do with it is up to them.�

The quietest of the series but also the most focused, I really loved Record of a Spaceborn Few. I like the whole aspect that the hippie-commune place is both cool but also becoming impractical and the message about adapting to change can be a way to benefit all. I loved the family dynamics in this one (the adorable older lesbian couple is great) and how it just offers another heartfelt look at what its like to live in this world. Another solid read.

4.5/5

�We are the Exodus Fleet. We are those that wandered, that wander still. We are the homesteaders that shelter our families. We are the miners and foragers in the open. We are the ships that ferry between. We are the explorers who carry our names. We are the parents who lead the way. We are the children who continue on.�