Ratings617
Average rating4.1
I knew Ursula K LeGuin was seen as one of the top scifi/fantasy minds of the 20th century, but hadn't really read anything by her as an adult, so I was excited to give this a chance and was not disappointed. This genre always does best when it provides a mirror/comparison to our own world, and this certainly does that. It gets a lot of attention for its novelty around gender, and rightly so, especially for when it was published, but I appreciated it most for thinking about difference in general. How do we communicate/collaborate with others who are very different from us? How do we build trust and friendships? At its heart, the book feels almost like a platonic love story of two people who are very different from each other. There's an emotional heart of beauty and intimacy to the story, and it's one that everybody should give a chance.
I want to recommend this book to anyone thinking about masculinity/feminity and gender roles, but I think that person would be disappointed. This is a book that has that conversation as an element, but I found it far more engaging as an exploration of friendship and intimacy. I've still yet to read anything by Le Guin that I haven't been stuck thinking about for days
What a weekend, getting to storm through this. I think the blurb doesn't really do it justice. Yes, this is a book about a planet where people are ambisexual, becoming male or female during each mating cycle. But I think, perhaps primed by Ursula's introduction, that it's much more an exploration about how we view each other and how we interact, not just on a gendered or sexed basis but in our whole beings. I'll pick out a few moments that grabbed me:p75 - “The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty”. Gethen is home to a cult/non-religion of the Handdara, who prize ignorance, to “ignore the abstraction, to hold fast to the thing” (p 228). This is shocking in part because of anxieties of the unknown (both my own and our societal); I think we trade on certainty a lot and the Handdarata are pushing a view that says uncertainty is actually the root of all our thought and action. Focus on uncertainty isn't new, but I'd kinda felt that it was mostly limited to recognising that some amount of it must be dealt with healthily, not actually fundamental or desired. The second line, which is referring to Estraven's desire not to accept the concept of nationhood, I take as a commitment to the real, whatever that might be, but also a focus on feeling over ideology, a . Not a philosopher, don't know who's already trodden this path, but it feels scary and also reassuring to consider what it would mean to take your actions, like Estraven, almost entirely from what you feel rather than what you think.p101 - “One is respected and judged only as a human being. It is an appalling experience.” It's interesting reading this 1969 text in a day where nonbinary genders are frequently discussed and gender confirmation is an increasingly recognised treatment. Yet despite our critiques of the gender construct, it still resonates to think about how difficult life can be when you don't have your gendered social personae to fall back on. Genly and the Investigators speculate about the effects that ending the binary has had on Gethenian society, from the level of aggression (no war), the greater focus on matters of import (Oscar Wilde: “Everything in the world is about sex, except sex”), the elimination of rape, the reduction in binary views about anything at all. But Therem notes that the I-you dualism is the older binary by far, and still very much present on Gethen. Instead, I think that the exploratory discussions of nonbinary gender and sexuality (homosexuality is noticeably missing on Gethen, unfortunately) in present society actually make the same metaphorical point that [b:The Left Hand of Darkness 118028 The Left Hand of Darkness (Hainish Cycle #4) Ursula K. Le Guin https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1519082793s/118028.jpg 817527] is making. For one, they prove that the binary is illusive; in many significant ways and places we were already somewhat androgynous. Taking the next step; it does feel appalling, terrifying, to abandon our gendered crutches. Most can't or don't want to, I certainly can't, at least not completely. But the striking thing about the Gethenians is just how normal they are, how particularly non-alien. They live and love and cry and die, and they show us that humanity is not gender, that being judged only as a human being is something we can actually do.
Straight up, this is one of my favorite books ever, so I'm invariably going to be more than a little bit biased when discussing it. I think it's gorgeous. A fantastic example of economizing the plot until only the essentials are used, the story never feels sparse or minimalist. The plot zig-zags at a leisurely pace, but neither does it ever feel slow or rushed. It's a true classic. I'll stop before I get ahead of myself. This book is absolutely wonderful, and that's all I can really say about it without revealing too much.
Le Guin's introduction to this novel is incredible and the insights she gives into the nature of science fiction as a genre, about it's purpose and misconceptions are brilliant. This novel feels like it could have been written today with the thoughtfulness that it explores the cultural significances of gender, not to mention the fact that the main character is black, something that is strangely unusual in science fiction novels. The world she builds is fascinating and I appreciate that she doesn't attempt to dictate each and every aspect of the whole world of Winter, but rather builds our knowledge of it by introducing bits and pieces of mythology such that we understand the planet of Winter similarly to how the the main character Genly understands it. The idea that a human society could develop completely different cultural norms and etiquette is also an interesting notion. The concept of shiftgrethor, a sort of honor and social etiquette code in the Gethenian societies that is constantly baffling to Genly is something I found super neat. What would social appropriateness look like in an alien society? The main intrigue of this novel is its exploration of a society in which individuals are completely androgynous except for a few days of the month in which they transition into a man or a women known as kemmer. The implications of this is that there are no socially constructed gender roles. Consequently there is no rape (being physiologically impossible most of the time and during kemmer most individuals are willing to have sex), no war (this one is a bit more perplexing but Genly supposes that violence on a mass scale is a trait of manhood and sexual frustration), and no associations or expectations that come with raising a child. There is also a liberal view of sex for the most part, with sex being seen as a right during kemmer (interestingly, incest in some cases is also seen as ok). This is a really fascinating society that Le Guin has built and the implications of the absence of gender are far reaching and in some cases very unexpected. Genly, a human in our sense of the word, struggles with untangling our traditional notion of gender with the people he interacts with, refering to most as 'he'. Genly also struggles to differentiate gender from positions that we typically see as being gender based such as the king or ruler of some Gethenian country, who at one point even gives birth to a child. The struggle for Genly is seeing these people as what they are: Human, without the association of gender to go along with it. A brilliant science fiction novel and one of the most interesting worlds I've seen in a novel!
The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin is the 4th book of the series Hainish Cycle.
Each book explores a new planet colony started by the Hainish people as an evolutionary experiment.
All books of the series can be read as standalone.
This one explores the planet Gethen, and the experience of the human envoy sent there on a mission.
Honestly, this book is what you'd expect after reading the blurb description.
I am definitely going to add more books by the author in my TBR.
I wasn't sure what to expect going in, and I read the copy in which China Mieville wrote an introduction as a prelude to the introduction written by the author herself. I think for me, I couldn't find the feminism in the story, which was promised in Mieville's introduction. Maybe it is because I am reading this in 2024, which Mieville hints at when he says we may not perceive it as ground-breaking in light of what came after its publication, and I think this must be the case with me. The use of male pronouns also made it challenging to view the characters as anything other than male, despite the author???s intentions .
Aside from that, it's creative and innovative in its storyline, and I understand entirely why it is such a pillar of this genre. It is hard to write a believable, realistic sci-fi, and I think the focus being on the characters rather than worldbuilding (not that it lacks that, either) is what lends the whole thing so much credence.
DNF 85 pages. I flipped to where my bookmark sat and read the paragraph. I asked myself do I care about any of this. My answer was no. Do I hate sci-fi? Do I speculative fiction? The answer might be yes.
I rarely enjoy such slow, philosophical writing, but I guess bringing gender and it's nuances into the mix is what I needed to get me going!
Along with gender, or lack of it, Le Guin explored many interesting points about life on a frozen planet and what kind of cultural norms and taboos might grow in such environment and how an alien from earth arriving into the planet might find themselves facing those differences.
Based on this I look forward to reading more from the author.
A very slow first half, followed by a gripping and emotional second half. I imagine the first half will be much improved upon a reread.
“We are inside, the two of us, in shelter, at rest, at the center of all things.”
My thoughts on this book are complicated but my feelings are not: I loved it. The language is beautiful, the worldbuilding is stellar, the mysticism is intriguing, and the characters feel more real in a few hundred pages than many do over the course of whole sagas. Estraven and Genly's relationship is one of the most effective alien-friendships I've read, and their lug across the ice is deeply moving. (It also has some of the most thought-provoking lines in a book full of them.)
No book is truly timeless, but “The Left Hand of Darkness” comes closer than many, I think, by embracing the limitations of its characters. LeGuin herself regretted the use of he/him pronouns for these androgynous aliens, and yet at the same time it makes perfect sense given our unreliable (misogynistic) narrator, who for most of the book can't allow himself to see the femininity in these intelligent, capable beings. And if the fact that Genly Ai can still be a misogynist in this enlightened future should chafe, LeGuin does say in the introduction that her goal is not to predict the future but to describe the present. Ai's clumsy narration - and even the universalist-humanitarian order he represents - is as much as subject of critique as the Cold War analogues satirized in Karhide and Orgota. Nothing is exempt from skepticism and yet the book never feels dragged down in it. It's even quite funny (Estraven is a catty bitch from Karhide who lives for intrigue, what can I say?).
Anyway there is much, much more to this book that I am still mulling over but the five star rating is crystal-clear.
I've read Le Guin before and love her stuff. This one is a standout for the multi-dimensional themes she explores.
A far future human visits a planet where the people are ambigendered, and being both (and interchangeably) male and female, reproduction means that either one of a couple can become pregnant each time. Added to the mix are the two main countries where one is a monarchy with a paranoid king and psychopath regent and the other is a totalitarian bureaucracy where various factions fight for power. Le Guin explores a slew of binary issues, political intrigue, sexuality and social relationships, religious enlightenment vs taoist philosophy, and what does 'alien' mean?
Just finished my second reading, the first being twenty or twenty-five years ago. I liked the book a lot more this time, because I knew what type of book I was getting into. My first read felt too slow and it was only after the big event of the second-half of the book that I realized I had read something great.
Another Le Guin win for me. It's largely slow, dense and cerebral, but it builds up a potent emotional momentum as it goes, like all of her books I've read. The setting is at once desolate and carefully detailed, and the ambisexual alien society is fascinating. I loved the varied narration styles and the main characters' journey, both physical and psychological. And I cried.
La premisa es por demás interesante pero se estira demasiado hacia el final y se vuelve un poco repetitivo y aburrido.
Still awesome work, somehow more interesting with age, rather than becoming outmoded. Almost too obvious to recommend but a great book for someone who wants to dip their toe into the deeper pools of speculative fiction.
I can understand why this book is considered a classic. The world-building and the innovative concepts introduced are certainly ahead of their time, making it a groundbreaking read when it was first published. In the story, an envoy is dispatched to an alien planet to assess their interest in joining the interplanetary cooperation he represents. What's truly fascinating is that this planet is inhabited by non-binary/ambisexual humanoids who adopt male or female appearances only during specific times of the month. Their lives exist beyond the confines of gender expression, and it's a unique and captivating aspect to explore. However, the absence of gender-neutral terminology made it somewhat challenging for me to fully immerse myself in this world.
On one hand, I relished the opportunity to accompany the envoy on his journey as he delved into the intricacies of Winter's society. On the other hand, the writing style felt rather dry, akin to an unsalted wholewheat cracker, leaving me with mixed feelings about the book.
A science-fiction novel worth its weight. I don't know how else to describe this book so succinctly. Le Guin knows how to do it all: world building, examining ideas and concepts at a large and small level, knowing when to get into the nitty gritty and when to stay broad. It's such an amazing science fiction novel, despite not being so flashy with the more exciting fare like super futuristic technology. The fact of the matter is that she focuses more concepts like sexuality, government, culture, race and as a result, the book is so much more rich in detail.
As others mention, including Le Guin herself, science fiction is a thought experiment. Most well-known titles of science fiction (Dune, Foundation) tend to explore the “what if” on the macro scale but in The Left Hand of Darkness, the micro is our sole focus. From this focus we get an idea of this world, not different from ours except bone-chilling temperatures, that makes you stop to think about how it relates to current day.
However, it does have some flaws. The most clear example is the misogyny of the main character, as pointed out in the afterword by Charlie Jane Anders in my edition of the book. It's certainly an interesting choice to make, but it does contribute to the story, especially considering it's an exploration of sexuality.
I will be reading the others in this series.
I really enjoyed this, though am having a hard time figuring out what I'd like to say about it. I found the exploration of sex and gender pretty extraordinary for late 60s science fiction, prescient even for today (the afterword has some good additional notes on how it was perceived then and how it has aged). I was a little surprised at how many concepts and words I stumbled upon that have become more or less grammar in science fiction (notably, ansible).There are a few lines that I really like, that stood above the rest for me on this, my first read:“‘We are not a sophisticated people.'” Perhaps this doesn't stand as well outside of its context. This is one of our primary characters comparing a neighboring government (a “full-blown bureaucracy”) that has developed Orwellian methods of population control and thought-policing. A few lines before, there is a discussion of the Farms and how the neighboring government would boast about them. This lie in the truth of the thing is a theme throughout the book that I found fascinating.That line pairs well with a line about 50 pages before, also comparing these governments, with the monarchy the ‘more primitive' of the two: “It was odd that in the less primitive society, the more sinister note was struck.”It's hard not to think about [b:1984 61439040 1984 George Orwell https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1657781256l/61439040.SX50.jpg 153313] here, and maybe [b:Brave New World 5129 Brave New World Aldous Huxley https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1575509280l/5129.SY75.jpg 3204877] (though this one I've never given a thorough read and always sort of glazed over).Later in the book, there begins an exploration of nationalism and patriotism. “Very few Orgota know how to cook. Hate Orgoreyn? No, how should I? How does one hate a country, or love one? Tibe talks about it; I lack the trick of it.I know people, I know towns, farms, hills and rivers and rocks, I know how the sun at sunset in autumn falls on the side of a certain plowland in the hills; but what is the sense of giving a boundary to all that, of giving it a name and ceasing to love where the name ceases to apply? What is love of one's country; is it hate of one's uncountry? ...“(Another dash of Orwell in the “un” language, to my eye.)And then:“And I wondered, not for the first time, what patriotism is, what the love of country truly consists of, how that yearning loyalty that had shaken my friend's voice arises, and how so real a love can become, too often, so foolish and vile a bigotry. Where does it go wrong?”I'll be reflecting on the book for a while, but these all stand out to me.
Tales of Earthsea mystified and delighted me when I was in primary school, but I didn't think I'd find The Left Hand of Darkness equally engaging at 31.
The politics, relationship/s, gender commentary, and pacing were all chef's kiss, and the interspersed folk tales/legends were lovely little treats.
I'm giving Le Guin the benefit of the doubt with regards to the narrator's frequent anthropologically-flavoured misogynistic remarks. Genly Ai is a representative of a (our) patriarchal culture; it's precisely these biases that the ambisexual Gethians provide a foil for (in spite of the persistent use of male pronouns).
I put off reading Ursula K. LeGuin's pioneering sci-fi classic for a very long time as I'm really not a fan of the genre, but when I finally did pick up this wee novella it blew me away, and I was left kicking myself for not reading it sooner.
Set in the far future on the ice planet of Gethen, against a backdrop of the intricacies of interplanetary diplomatic relations, Le Guin explores what a society might look like in which gender is no longer a defining characteristic, and writes with remarkable prescience considering this novel is fifty-four years old this year.
“Because of our lifelong social conditioning, it is hard for us to see clearly what, besides purely physiological form and function, truly differentiates men and women. I eliminated gender, to find out what was left. Whatever was left would be, presumably, simply human. It would define the area that is shared by men and women alike.” —UKLG
The novel unfolds into further complex, layered narratives reflecting on the importance of community and collaboration, the dangers of xenophobia, and our deeply rooted and enduring need for connection in both the microcosm and the macrocosm, as well as treating us to snippets of the folklore of Gethen, all in Le Guin's engaging, beautiful prose. Genly Ai and Estraven's journey across the hinterland of the Gobrin Ice will stay with me until the end of my days. Can't recommend highly enough.
“The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty: not knowing what comes next.”
Not gonna lie I spent the majority of this book very very very confused. My friends will attest to that. Despite this, it wasn't a bad book, I just don't think I get much out of a book that relies so much on hidden philosophical commentary. Don't get me wrong, it made me think a lot about our societal systems, but it just wasn't my cup of tea.
I am very mad at the ending :(