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The natural world can be a cold, cruel place full of the inevitability of danger and death. What purpose do we serve in such a world, what reason can we find so we are truly living and not just killing time (and each other)? When Rozzum unit 7134, or Roz for short, is activated in an island wilderness she begins to look for a sense of purpose–a robot designed to serve needs a task to complete. Yet along the way she discovers that kindness, community and love shared can be a purpose that makes such a world one worth having lived in and The Wild Robot by Peter Brown is certainly a book worth having read. Written with a middle-grade audience in mind, The Wild Robot is quietly moving and thought provoking in a way that can touch any reader regardless of age and adults will find this just as charming as younger readers. Its sort of like Becky Chambers’s Monk and Robot books but for a younger audience. A tender story that doesn’t shirk away from the darker parts of life, Brown crafts a modern classic of children’s literature that certainly warmed my heart.

�As you might know, robots don’t really feel emotions. Not the way animals do. And yet, as she sat in her crumpled crate, Roz felt something like curiosity.�

Last year, an article appeared in the New York Times by Craig Fehrman (you can read it ) about why sad books for children can be healing and how The Wild Robot became his child’s favorite with him even dressing as the robot for Halloween. It was a great article but what really caught my attention was the opening line: �Last summer, my wife and I took our kids to Reader’s World, a wonderful bookstore in Holland, Mich.� Reader: I was the person working at Reader’s World bookstore that day. I remembered the interaction, I remembered how our children’s librarian at the library I also work at has long said it was a favorite and was often the book I recommended because of that. Now that I’ve finally seen the film I realized I too should probably read it. And I have loved it. I think you will too, its such a charming story of life, death, love and community and Brown’s illustrations really add a lovely element of fun to it with art that perfectly matches the tone of the story.

As the article above discusses, it is a sad book at times. But it is also a really creative one that sparks the imagination and gets the reader thinking about how our mind and emotions work. Sure, Roz doesn’t have emotions as the narrator tells us (the narrator speaks directly to the reader a very wise yet whimsical tone that is really endearing and effortlessly flows as it pulls us through the story) because she is a robot, but as Roz begins to meet the memorable cast of animals and learns to care for Brightbill, Roz discovers there might be something inside her nobody expected to occur in a robot. I love the way Roz comes to live with the animals and, with a mind for problem solving, first sets out to decode their language and learn their ways.

�She discovered that all the different animals shared one common language; they just spoke the language in different ways. You might say each species spoke with its own unique accent.�

This is a quiet and cozy story that balances out the darkness with a lot of warmth and humor, with great quips like �the robot's programming stopped her from being violent, but nothing stopped her from being annoying.� Which is all really great because, admittedly, this book gets fairly heavy. It is an exploration of life, togetherness, family and kindness, but with life we inevitably have death. And in the wild…well its animals killing one another for survival. Luckily Brown approaches the discussions in really productive ways that show there is a balance and this inevitability of death isn’t something to be bothered by but something we must all embrace as a fact of life.

�[I]t was a quiet spring. There were fewer insects buzzing, fewer birds singing, fewer rodents rustling. Many creatures had frozen to death over the winter. And as the last of the snow melted away, their corpses were slowly revealed. The wilderness really can be ugly sometimes. But from that ugliness came beauty. You see, those poor dead creatures returned to the earth, their bodies nourished the soil, and they helped create the most dazzling spring bloom the island had ever known.�

Characters do die and there are many sad moments (not all of the death is natural however, and environmental issues come up such as poisoned water killing a nest of turtle eggs), but ultimately the book still feels uplifting. And very, very healing to be honest. The aspects of motherhood and caring for one another are enough to move even the coldest of readers to tears and feelings, not unlike how even an unfeeling robot operating on basic programming can learn to feel.

�Maybe Roz really was defective, and some glitch in her programming had caused her to accidentally become a wild robot. Or maybe Roz was designed to think and learn and change; she had simply done those things better than anyone could have imagined. However it happened, Roz felt lucky to have lived such an amazing life. And every moment had been recorded in her computer brain. Even her earliest memories were perfectly clear. She could still see the sun shining through the gash in her crate. She could still hear the waves crashing against the shore. She could still smell the salt water and the pine trees. Would she ever see and hear and smell those things again? Would she ever again climb a mountain, or build a lodge, or play with a goose? Not just a goose. A son. Brightbill had been Roz’s son from the moment she picked up his egg. She had saved him from certain death, and then he had saved her. He was the reason Roz had lived so well.�

The bits with Brightbill are so lovely. But so are all the other bits and all the animals learning to live in a better harmony with one another even if death and needing to eat will still be an inevitable part of reality.

�If I could do it all over again, I'd spend more time helping others. All I've ever done is dig tunnels. Some of them were real beauties too, but they're all hidden underground, where they're no good to anyone but me.�

This book is teeming with great themes that are all handled with lightest of touches and paints in rather broad strokes of metaphor that work really well when housed in a children’s story. It makes them accessible and thoughtful but still manages to not feel overly heavy handed, which I really appreciate. It comes with equal parts hope and despair and handles it all quite well.

�You’ll never be the perfect mother, so just do the best you can. All Brightbill really needs is to know you’re doing your best.�

So, sure, The Wild Robot is a sad book, but it is also a very moving, optimistic and healing book. It makes for a heartwrenching look at motherhood and all the efforts that go into it, with a really lovely take on ideas of adoption and found family. It is aimed at younger readers and have plenty of big themes for them around family and bullying and more, but adults are sure to enjoy this as well. A quick read with a big heart that will likely become a modern classic, I really enjoyed The Wild Robot.�

4.5/5