It has been a bit of a personal project of for the past year or so to sample from the classics of the sci-fi genre. Its not that I think modern sci-fi is undesirableindeed, Im a huge fanrather, there is a lot of reward in visiting trends in sci-fi from other times, seeing the foundations of modern sci-fi, and having a base understanding of the language of science fiction. Sci-fi is endlessly self-referential and to be well versed in the genre it is almost a requirement that certain books be read. This has led to a sampling of books that have challenged, awed, and befuddled me in equal measure. One of the treats that has been afforded to me in my readings is a deeper appreciation for sci-fi as a vehicle for any type of story to be told. Thus far, the Penguin Galaxy series has been the ideal selection of classics from which to broaden my horizons. Dune is a spectacle of world-building, a metaphor for climate change, and a thrilling political drama that seems almost a precursor to George R. R. Martins A Song of Ice and Fire. Neuromancer presented a drug-addled future in which the lead character is equally as concerned with his next score and lay as the underlying AI-based mystery. It follows then, that Ursula K. Le Guins The Left Hand of Darkness is of similar experimental pedigree and was nothing at all what I expected. Genly Ai is an envoy from the Ekumenyour standard giant space empireto the planet of Gethen, or Winter. He is sent alone, as per the Ekumen custom, to bring the planet into the fold of the interplanetary collective. What makes Gethen such a unique place, aside from the inhospitable constant winter, is the Gethenian people. There are no men, no women, only androgynous beings that assume a gender when they enter kemmer, or a reproductive state, which happens on a regular cycle. Thus the world of Winter is unlike our own in climate and culture.Though there are guaranteed to be thought pieces, theses, and reviews that have put it more eloquently than myself, The Left Hand of Darkness is a different breed of sci-fi. I like to think of it as a more anthropological sci-fi. Genly Ais journey to come to grips with a culture that holds no gender roles is more philosophical and emotional than Id expect from most sci-fi. Where other books would spend time with physical conflict, The Left Hand of Darkness relishes in the expansion of Genlys personal understanding of gender.It certainly makes for as topical a read today as it did when first published back in 1969. Gender and sexuality seem to so often fall into circuitous discussions in public and on the internet, and it was a breath of fresh air to read what is essentially a long treatise on what it would truly mean to live without consideration of another humans genitalia. It also makes for a reading experience that is fairly challenging. Estraven, the Gethenian character with whom the reader spends most of their time, is difficult to imagine. In fact, the struggle to remove my own ingrained perception of gender during my reading of The Left Hand of Darkness stretched my mind in interesting new directions. If the intention is to challenge our preconceived notions of gender, Le Guin succeeds. Though this is all stimulating, the novel does lack a sense of forward momentum that made it a bit of a drag. In particular, theres a good stretch in the back half of the novel where Genly and Estraven traverse the hostile world with hardly any provisions. This section seemed to drag on forever, and was infrequently warmed by the romance plot that runs alongside it. Though I kept expecting it, the intimacy here never becomes sexual, but is instead emotional, intellectual, and physical only in the sense of two people physically suffering together. There is a bit of suffering involved in the reading of The Left Hand of Darkness. I took on the book at a time in which I was too busy to give it its proper due and conjuring a winter wasteland is painful when the summers sunlight lands across the books pages. Its a book thats more satisfying in the abstract than appealing during the actual reading. As an academic exploration of classic sci-fi, it fits the bill even if it doesnt make for an enjoyable experience overall.

The Left Hand of Darkness: Brilliant depiction of an androgynous society on a frozen planetOriginally published at Fantasy LiteratureThe Left Hand of Darkness (1969), part of THE HAINISH CYCLE, won both the Hugo and Nebula Awards for Best SF Novel, and is well known as one of the first books in the genre to intelligently explore the nature of gender and identity. Ursula K. LeGuin is a highly respected writer known for her anthropological and humanistic approach to SF, and her presence has attracted many mainstream readers and forced literary critics to take the genre more seriously. For that alone we owe her a great debt, and she has also written a series of critical essays entitled The Language of the Night: Essays on Fantasy and Science Fiction (1979). Her other masterpieces include The Dispossessed (1974), which won the Hugo and Nebula awards, and THE EARTHSEA CYCLE of YA fantasy novels.I read The Left Hand of Darkness back in high school, and it had a profound effect on my perceptions of what intelligent SF can do. What it lacks in space battles, dazzling technologies, bizarre alien species, etc., it fully makes up by rigorously exploring what an androgynous society might be like, one in which people are neither male nor female for most of the month, except when they enter a state of kemmer, in which they become sexually active and seek a partner. When the Gethenians (the native human population) find a mate, one assumes male attributes and other female, but this state lasts only for a few days, so for the majority of the year Gethenians are androgynous and lack sexual urges. LeGuins genius is that she explores the implications of this thought experiment from so many angles, examining politics, war, economic development, friendship, love, loyalty, betrayal, all against the backdrop of a planet trapped in a relentless Ice Age, which also shapes the two nations of Karhide and Orgoreyn that features prominently in the story.The Left Hand of Darkness centers around Genly Ai, an Envoy from the Ekumen, a loosely-linked association of 85 human-inhabited worlds. Through long experience, the Ekumen has fine-tuned its approach to contacting new worlds for the first time. They initially send just a single ship, and from that ship send just a single Envoy at first. The intent is to avoid being viewed as a threat by the native peoples. So for much of the novel, Genly tries in vain to convince the peoples of Karhide and Orgoreyn that he is indeed an envoy from the stars, and not just a demented pervert who remains trapped in the state of kemmer as a male.Genly soon gets caught up in the political intrigues of the nation of Karhide, a political monarchy. Karhiddish society is complicated by the concept of shifgrethor, a complex system of pride, face, honor, etc. in which great care is taken not to give direct insult to others, and to make sure that others do not lose face, which reflects badly on ones self. This makes it difficult for individuals to speak directly to the point, which makes it hard for Genlys story to be accepted, as many view him as mad or deluded.Finally, Prime Minister Estraven chooses to accept his story and entreats King Argaven to accept an alliance with the Ekumen, which promises to bring new knowledge, technologies, and trade goods. Argaven, however, is a paranoid and insecure ruler, and instead chooses to exile Estraven from his borders. Estraven flees to Orgoreyn, a highly organized and bureaucratic nation, and Genly decides that its not safe to stay in Karhide and makes his way to Orgoreyn as well. Initially he is welcomed by one of the ruling factions, who seem to be more receptive and try to leverage his presence to further their stratagems. Unfortunately, other factions refuse to believe his story and he is betrayed and sent to a prison work camp deep in the icy mountains. Meanwhile, Estraven has been living as a powerless exile in Orgoreyn, but Genly mistakenly views Estraven as a cold and calculating political creature. He is therefore quite surprised when it is Estraven who comes to his rescue in the prison camp.This brings us to the main set-piece of The Left Hand of Darkness, the perilous and brutal voyage of the two across the Gobrin Glacier to avoid Orgoreyn patrols and make their way back to Karhide, hoping to allow Genly to contact his ship for aid. This arduous slog, for which LeGuin extensively researched Arctic expeditions beforehand, forces Genly and Estraven to spend several months in extremely close contact, as they are completely cut off from all other civilization and must depend on each other for survival. Of course it is Genly the off-worlder who must depend on the expertise and iron-will of Estraven, whom he previously distrusted, to get through this ordeal. LeGuins description of the sled journey, the minimal rations they share, the brutal sub-zero conditions and their effects on the bodies, minds, and spirits of the two is brilliantly detailed and convincing. You will feel as if you have been subjected to an Arctic journey and your hands may get frostbite just from clutching the book (there is no audiobook currently available, but I guess your ears would freeze instead).It is during this journey that Genly and Estraven are forced to understand the nature of the other. And it is Genly who has must struggle the most, as he has unconsciously tried to look at Estraven as a man for the sake of convenience, and begins to understand that Gethenians have both masculine and feminine traits, and that they are not in conflict. He begins to understand that Estraven is a steadfast friend, and I really credit LeGuin for avoiding the tempting pitfall of having the two characters have a sexual relationship. Their bond becomes deep but transcends gender.This must have been a profound insight when The Left Hand of Darkness was first published in 1969, at the height of a social revolution and as the feminist and womens movements were forming. Perhaps it is more accepted nowadays that we all have male and female aspects to our personalities, and the LGBT movement has gained a lot of hard-won acceptance in recent years in parts of the world. But there are still plenty of resisters who yearn for a world of manly men and feminine women, and they will fight to maintain this world view at all costs. Its an interesting study to apply the lessons of this book in todays world.When Genly and Estraven finally reach their destination, an unexpected and tragic twist changes the political climates of both Karhide and Orgoreyn and makes it possible for these two nations to accept the offer to join the Ekumen. It is a powerful ending that will linger in the readers mind for some time. It reduced me to tears when I first read it 20 years ago, and I dont do that often.So what are the implications of a genderless society? It is a testament to LeGuins storytelling that The Left Hand of Darkness manages to explore this without sacrificing readability. The most obvious aspect of Gethens nations is that they do not wage war on each other, though there are frequent small-scale skirmishes, intrigues, assassinations, and murders on an individual level. The lack of male aggressiveness precludes them from organized military conflicts. This seems a fair assertion to make: what major human society has ever had a military dominated by women, and urges to physical violence tend to occur more among men (anyone care to deny that?). Yet LeGuin doesnt sugar-coat her androgynous society there are still murders, jealousy, betrayals, etc. In addition, she also posits that Gethenian society is much less proactive in pursuing scientific progress, as it has been content in many cases to maintain primitive institutions and has lacked the motivation to innovate. Is the urge to innovate and invent something mainly found in men and not women? Or is that more a product of our societies preconceived gender roles? I have often wondered what an all-female society would be like, whether it could achieve the same level of technological achievement as ours. Honestly, I dont know what form it would take, but it would almost certainly be different from what we have.But I think that LeGuins thinking, which some consider feminist, is much more subtle than that. She seeks to examine what kind of society would develop in the absence of genders. How would our energies be refocused if we didnt have to worry and obsess about the opposite sex all the time? How would individuals treat each other in the absence of the dualistic world of men (hunters/gatherers/fighters) and women (child-bearers/nurturers/home-makers)? Would society be more egalitarian, with merit accruing to those with greater accomplishments without the clouding influence of gender?The societies of Karhide and Orgoreyn provide tantalizing hints, but their strengths and flaws are on full display. They are not feminist utopias by any stretch. In fact, I would argue that The Left Hand of Darkness is not really feminist fiction as it normally understood, designed to empower women by showing their positive aspects and the negative aspects of male-dominated societies. Instead, I view LeGuin is a humanist, determined to drill down to the roots of gender identity, and by stripping this away, hoping to reveal the core elements of humanity common to both men and women.

I'll make my report as if I were telling a story, for I was taught as a child on my homeworld that Truth is a matter of the imaginationI didn't want this book to end. I so badly wanted to stay on Gethen, Winter, the frozen planet, (although I suffer cold weather with ill grace, and miss my family at 3 hours' distance). Like Octavia Butler, Le Guin makes worlds I can't bear to leave, even when they are harsh or hostile. Of course, the magnetism is all in the telling. In this edition's introduction, Le Guin says 'the novelist says in words what cannot be said in words'. Accordingly, I can explain only in metaphor that this novel lights all my lamps.Our storyteller the Envoy is Genly Ai, a young man from Earth, who would, in my country and time, be recognised as and likely call himself Black. On Gethen he is darker than most, but the native people are variously 'red-brown and yellow-brown'. His report does not mention skin-colour prejudice on his own world, and on Gethen this does not seem to be an issue, although the king asks Genly, about the alliance of people he represents 'are they all as black as you?' Genly is also taller than most Gethenians, and his nose is different. But his main peculiarity is that he is always male among a people who are each in themselves neither and both female and male, capable, conditions being favourable, of pregnancy and impregnation. As well as causing some Gethenians to be repulsed by him, this is a personal challenge for Genly, who is as sexist as a well-educated young earthling might be expected to be, and his narration is marked by a dismissive attitude towards what he sees as femininity in the Gethenians: '[I was a]nnoyed by this sense of effeminate intrigue'. His androcentric attitude is most powerfullly evident in his misgendering of all Gethenians as 'he'. The unmarked masculine lies so heavily on the text that he renders the Gethenian words for family members not as child and sibling but as son and brother, yet being unable to bring himself to call the person who carried the child 'mother' unless they are in the physical phase of lactation, he calls them, as the Gethenians do, 'parent in the flesh'. This language is both revealing and a struggle for the reader, who must, like Genly, wrestle with their own concepts of gender, peeling the sign from what it mis-signifies.Genly's dislocated ideas about gender sometimes cause rather uncomfortable humour, such as when he describes his 'landlady' with hir* wide hips and gossiping, nuturing manner. Le Guin contradicts Genly's impressions with the history of this person, who has never given birth, but has 'fathered' several children. When Genly is explaining to the 'king' of Karhide that one of his photographs shows a woman, he reports 'I had to use the word that Gethenians would apply only to a person in the culminant phase of kemmer, the alternative being their word for a female animal.' Perhaps it is this problematic approach that causes the royal's reaction he expresses disgust. Adult Gethenians have a monthly period of a few days when they are driven to seek sexual intercourse. Nobody is expected to work during this time which reminds me of the old feminist joke that if men menstruated, monthly paid leave with hot water bottles and chocolate would be universally provided.The gender aspect of the worldbuilding is so fascinating that it would be in danger of overshadowing other aspects if they were not equally compelling. Envisioning the practicalities of human life on a world so cold that snow melts for only a few summer weeks, Le Guin creatively constructs architecture and transport modes adapted to the setting as well as the sensibilities of their makers. But it's the socio-political aspects that most compel me. I was struck by the revelation that 'Karhiders hire services not people' (and so anyone hired by a wealthy host to prepare and serve a meal would have returned to their own homes afterwards) Le Guin communicates the norms of culture with subtlety. Genly is always cold in Karhide the people there do not care for comfort, but when he travels from the capital through rural areas he is delighted by the hospitality always given by invariable convention and admires and enjoys the way of life of the people for whom the tasks of social reproduction are the responsibility of all, and where law and order are weak forces. However, when he arrives in the capital of another country, Orgoreyn, where comfort and organisation are the norm, he is refreshed by the change, noting that the clothes are gaudy and cheaply made and the food insipid compared to those in Karhide but that this is a fair exchange for feeling warm and being looked after. Later, long after I had begun to feel uneasy, he starts to feel cosseted and deceived. In this comparison an opposition between 'civilisation' and war emerges.The main Gethenian character, Estraven, is a Karhider who much prefers hir* own culture to that of Orgoreyn, where 'behind every man is the inspector'. I did not understand Genly's mistrust of Estraven (and I disagreed with him, actually, that the 'king' was 'crazy'), at times he seemed to lack cultural understanding and be misled by his ideas about gender, projecting them onto his understanding of 'shifgrethor', the Gethenian concept of prestige which, for instance, makes it insulting to give advice. Fortunately, he becomes more humble and self-aware about this as the story progresses.The narrative is intercut with beautiful, fascinating, often violent Gethenian folktales on themes of love, death and time, which illuminate the two main spiritual disciplines Genly encounters, which both inform/reflect the people's concepts of time and knowledge. In Orgoreyn, the state religion follows a kind of prophet who is believed to have seen all moments past and future (an idea that reminds me of Laplace). Karhide has no religion, but there are 'Fastnesses' where people live in a kind of monkish seclusion and seek a states of mind that bear resemblance to some Buddhist ideas. Estraven's philosophical thoughts, as well as the tales, throw some light on this discipline: 'well in the Handdara... you know, there's no theory, no dogma... Maybe they are less aware of the gap between men [sic] and beasts, being more occupied with the likenesses, the links, the whole of which living things are a part' Genly cannot work out if its followers believe in god, but according to Estraven 'to be an atheist is to maintain God... the Handdarata... have chosen not to treat God as a fact, subject either to proof or belief: and they have broken the circle, and go free' I was moved by Estraven's beautiful nightly prayer: 'praise then darkness and Creation unfinished!' Hir* attitide to land and nation also touches me, and Genly's sexist reaction speaks to gender as a colonial concept:Hate Orgoreyn? No, how should I? How does one hate a country, or love one? I lack the trick of it. I know people, I know towns, farms, hills and rivers and rocks, I know 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? Then it's not a good thing. Is it simply self-love? That's a good thing, but one mustn't make a virtue of it, or a profession... Insofar as I love life, I love the hills of the Domain of Estre, but that sort of love does not have a boundary line of hate. And beyond that, I am ignorant, I hope.Ignorant, in the Handdara sense: to ignore the abstraction, to hold fast to the thing. There was in this attitude something feminine, a refusal of the abstract, the ideal, a submissiveness to the given, which rather displeased me.I fell in love with Estraven and the culture of Karhide, prickly though it seemed at first. Perhaps most of all because it is what I most yearn for from my own roots, vainly, a storytelling culture: 'He told [our adventure] as only a person of an oral-literature tradition can tell a story, so that it became a saga, full of traditional locutions and even episodes, yet exact and vivid [] with comic interludes... and mystical ones... I listened as fascinated as all the rest, my gaze on my friend's dark face.Perhaps this lovely tribute to oral literature is Ursula's apology for telling an adventure story on the poverty of the printed page. Nonetheless, I was rapt, aflame with the emotions aroused by the tale, and when it was over, I longed already to hear it again*I have decided to use the (possessive form) gender neutral pronoun 'hir' for Gethenians, although in Genly's account they are all 'he' 'him' 'his' etc