Preamble
I picked up the audio version of The Left Hand Of Darkness on Chirp Audiobooks when it was available. I had heard it mentioned several times on /r/Fantasy along with the rest of Le Guin’s stuff.
A note about my reviews: I consider myself an appreciator, not a critic. I know first-hand what goes into the creation of art – the blood, the sweat, the tears, the risk. I also know that art appreciation is subjective and lernt good what mama tell’t me – if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. I’m not a school marm grading a spelling test – I’m a reader who enjoys reading. If a book is entertaining, well-written, and I get absorbed into it, five out of five. I have gone as low as three stars – anything less than that and I will not review a book (chances are I DNFed anyway). Regardless, I wouldn’t even put a star rating system on my reviews but for the reality of storefronts like Amazon.
Take from that what you will.
Review – 5/5
If someone were interested in what the process of writing looks like before they actually wrote anything, I would point them to the preface that Ursula K. Le Guin wrote for The Left Hand Of Darkness. I was in awe when I listened to it, how she masterfully gave voice to things that I myself have thought and felt about what it is we do when we write. In sum, we point to a book, which is a pack of lies, and say ‘there is the truth.’ I was reminded strongly of a quote by Jean Erdman Campbell, who is a dancer and whose entrance into my life came because of a deep and abiding interest in the work of her husband, Joseph Campbell. Ms. Erdman Campbell said, ‘The way of the mystic and the way of the artist are related, except that the mystic doesn't have a craft.’
It's funny, though, to refer to someone as the ‘wife’ of someone. I’ve never seen Ms. Campbell, who has been dead for some time now, dance, nor do I know much about her beyond some apocryphal items related to my research of all things Joseph Campbell. My knowledge of her is chiefly in relation to a man, which is unfortunately a large component of how our society is structured, particularly during the days when they were alive. When this book was written, even. It’s getting better, but the way gender shapes one’s experience is still largely entrenched and systematic.
It’s also a large theme of the book – the difference in gender and, in some ways, a reminder of how the more things change, the more they stay the same. I’m not talking about differences in social structure or how we deal with gender roles in society. I’m talking about the fabric and nature of reality, which is exactly what Le Guin brings up with unerring deftness and intelligence. She says that she is an atheist in the preface and also speaks about gods and truth in that same preface and recognizes how that might sound crazy. At one point in her books, one of the characters ponders the paradoxical nature of reality, and how two things might be true at the same time.
The title itself is about the interrelated duality of things. The left hand of darkness is the light and the right hand of the light is darkness. They cannot and will not be separated. And yet the story takes place on Gethen, a world where sexual dimorphism has been eliminated in human beings, likely the result an experiment by ancient planet-exploring forebears. All people have the ability to act as male and as female during a rutting period known as kemmer. In the result, many of the social structures seem changed. There is no war… but there is also an extremely labyrinthine and exclusionary social structure known as shifgrethor and a country that is essentially communistic with forced labour camps and more.
On a surface level, the question of what might happen if gender were eliminated as a social issue is answered. Things shift and yet strife and problems remain. There is no total conquest of the darkness by the light, which is the assumption that progressiveness seems to have ingrained in its way of viewing the world. That one day we might achieve a utopia of sorts. And yet there is nothing really lost in terms of the underlying theme of the novel, at least to my mind. I was assuming that the relationship between Genly Ai, the male alien protagonist whose parts work like ours, and local androgynous person Estraven would eventually lead to sex, but it never does. It’s addressed briefly, but not discussed further.
Sexuality, as a social issue, seems always there, bubbling beneath the surface. Generations of majoritarian puritanical tradition still resonates with us today, though we seem to be getting through it. Slowly, but surely. Genly Ai becoming alright with his relationship with Estraven came through his recognition that 'he' was half man and half woman and recognizing that there was a sexual pull there, precipitated by that feminine side. Admittedly heteronormative, it's not worked out to its ultimate expression, but it is acknowledged.
Which brings me to another point, this one made by Joseph Campbell in his Power of Myth talks from PBS. That though light and darkness need the light, we can still hope to bend towards the light. Though this book ends with a suicide, the ending is indeed hopeful. Genly Ai loses his friend, a person swallowed up by the darkness which is the right hand of the light, but contact has been made with the greater galactic federation of humans. The world of Gethen becomes a part of the Ekumen, said interplanetary trade federation, which was Genly Ai’s mission as envoy in the first place.
I don’t use this term lightly, but this book is a masterpiece. I had reason to consider the differences between genre and literary fiction recently, and though I have my personal qualms with the distinction, there is no question in my mind that this is both science fiction and literary fiction. It is the art of writing elevated to its highest expression.
Available on Amazon here.