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conceptual
fiction
[kuhn-SEP-choo-uhl
FIK-shuhn]
Noun: Storytelling raised to
a higher degree through artful
reconfiguration of the reader's
conception of reality
The Left Hand of Darkness
by Ursula K. Le Guin
Reviewed by Ted Gioia
Ursula Le Guin boldly went where few science fiction writers
went before – on to the pages of The New Yorker, into the
hallowed halls of Stanford University and other premier
institutions to serve as writer in residence, to more than a half
dozen other institutions of higher learning to pick up honorary
degrees. Somehow Le Guin found the magic formula to break
through the sharp divide between speculative fiction and
literary fiction.
And she did it the hard way. Le Guin
crossed over into literary respectability
by writing well, by refusing to lower her
standards to the sometimes embarras-
singly low expectations of the genre, by
building a body of outstanding work.
With twenty novels to her credit, Le
Guin can point to a shelf full of strong,
vibrant books – work that has earned
her deserved praise as one of the finest
science fiction writers of her generation.
The Left Hand of Darkness describe the
exploits of Genly Ai, a visitor from the
peace-loving Ekumen, a galactic federa-
tion of advanced societies, who is at-
tempting to bring the androgynous in-
habitants of the planet of Gethen into
their organization. Gethen is a cold planet, but is full of hot-
tempered politicians, and Genly focuses on the prime minister
of Karhide, an inscrutable character known as Estraven, to
help him navigate through the often dangerous political
landscape.
This deftly constructed story touches on all of the key themes
of Le Guin’s oeuvre. Here she explores the complexity of
gender roles, both in their biological and culturally imposed
forms. She probes the nature of political institutions and the
brokering and intrigue they foster. She examines the fragility
of pacifist attitudes as they try to reach a meeting of minds with
more belligerent actors in a dynamic setting. She brings her
insights to bear on belief systems and mythologies and their
influence on individual actions.
Given these themes, Le Guin is often labeled as an exponent of
“soft” science fiction, as opposed to the “hard” stuff, which
focuses more closely on the scientific trappings of the story.
But there is nothing soft about Le Guin’s prose style, which is
taut and precise, or her plots, which are built with the solidity
and energy of a Saturn V rocket.
Most commentators have focused on the "sex angle" -- don't
they always? --highlighting the significance of the androgynous
mating practices of the inhabitants of Gethen. But this is
merely one element among many others that Le Guin
incorporates into her imaginary world. Her novel could, of
course, be read as a commentary on gender roles, but just as
easily it can enlighten our understanding of political
institutions or belief systems. But Le Guin is, above all, a great
descriptive writer, and the sheer beauty of her landscapes, the
topography of her alien world, even the weather, are as critical
to the success of this book as its more overt social themes.
Indeed, Le Guin has largely avoided the two biggest problems
with sci-fi books – lackluster writing and childish art on the
covers. I give her publishers credit for the subdued covers, but
the writing can only be chalked up to her own native genius.
The final sections of The Left Hand of Darkness, which
describe Genly Ai and Estraven’s dangerous journey, over 840
miles and 81 days, through a frozen glacier land, is one of the
finest sustained accounts of tension and adventure in the
annals of speculative fiction.
by Ursula K. Le Guin
Reviewed by Ted Gioia
Ursula Le Guin boldly went where few science fiction writers
went before – on to the pages of The New Yorker, into the
hallowed halls of Stanford University and other premier
institutions to serve as writer in residence, to more than a half
dozen other institutions of higher learning to pick up honorary
degrees. Somehow Le Guin found the magic formula to break
through the sharp divide between speculative fiction and
literary fiction.
And she did it the hard way. Le Guin
crossed over into literary respectability
by writing well, by refusing to lower her
standards to the sometimes embarras-
singly low expectations of the genre, by
building a body of outstanding work.
With twenty novels to her credit, Le
Guin can point to a shelf full of strong,
vibrant books – work that has earned
her deserved praise as one of the finest
science fiction writers of her generation.
The Left Hand of Darkness describe the
exploits of Genly Ai, a visitor from the
peace-loving Ekumen, a galactic federa-
tion of advanced societies, who is at-
tempting to bring the androgynous in-
habitants of the planet of Gethen into
their organization. Gethen is a cold planet, but is full of hot-
tempered politicians, and Genly focuses on the prime minister
of Karhide, an inscrutable character known as Estraven, to
help him navigate through the often dangerous political
landscape.
This deftly constructed story touches on all of the key themes
of Le Guin’s oeuvre. Here she explores the complexity of
gender roles, both in their biological and culturally imposed
forms. She probes the nature of political institutions and the
brokering and intrigue they foster. She examines the fragility
of pacifist attitudes as they try to reach a meeting of minds with
more belligerent actors in a dynamic setting. She brings her
insights to bear on belief systems and mythologies and their
influence on individual actions.
Given these themes, Le Guin is often labeled as an exponent of
“soft” science fiction, as opposed to the “hard” stuff, which
focuses more closely on the scientific trappings of the story.
But there is nothing soft about Le Guin’s prose style, which is
taut and precise, or her plots, which are built with the solidity
and energy of a Saturn V rocket.
Most commentators have focused on the "sex angle" -- don't
they always? --highlighting the significance of the androgynous
mating practices of the inhabitants of Gethen. But this is
merely one element among many others that Le Guin
incorporates into her imaginary world. Her novel could, of
course, be read as a commentary on gender roles, but just as
easily it can enlighten our understanding of political
institutions or belief systems. But Le Guin is, above all, a great
descriptive writer, and the sheer beauty of her landscapes, the
topography of her alien world, even the weather, are as critical
to the success of this book as its more overt social themes.
Indeed, Le Guin has largely avoided the two biggest problems
with sci-fi books – lackluster writing and childish art on the
covers. I give her publishers credit for the subdued covers, but
the writing can only be chalked up to her own native genius.
The final sections of The Left Hand of Darkness, which
describe Genly Ai and Estraven’s dangerous journey, over 840
miles and 81 days, through a frozen glacier land, is one of the
finest sustained accounts of tension and adventure in the
annals of speculative fiction.
