The Left Hand of Darkness

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.