Date: Thu, 4 Apr 2002 20:50:20 +0200 From: Petra Mayerhofer Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG The Dispossessed To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU Thank you all for waiting so patiently for my kick-off message. _The Dispossessed_ is a wonderful book. It's the second time I read it but I'm not finished yet. I remember how impressed I was the first time by the society of Anarres, this time it appears rather stifling to me (e.g. although not in theory but in practice everybody has to be the same, mediocre). According to Paul Brian's study guide (http://www.wsu.edu:8080/~brians/science_fiction/dispossessed.html) this is a rather common reaction: "To many of its earliest readers Anarres, however flawed, clearly presented a preferable ideal to contemporary American society. Its stress on sharing, on volunteerism, and on tolerance was highly attractive. To some contemporary readers, Anarres seems rather like a nightmare." How do you see this "ambiguous" utopia? Formerly and now? Is it a failure or not? Do you think the congealment (if I use the correct English expression here) can be avoided? Ursula Le Guin has often stressed that a novel has to be centered around a character, that the described society is not the important part, but the development of the character ("Mrs. Brown", I hope this paraphrase is more or less correct). She cited the first image she had of _The Left Hand of Darkness_ (two persons in a ice desert towing a sled) as example for this. Nonetheless, my experience is different, at least with _Left Hand_ and _Dispossessed_. What I mostly remember of these novels and what engaged me the most are the societies (or the differing gender biology). How do you experience this? What are the feminist aspects of the novel? How do you perceive Rulag? The green binding and the stamp of the circle of books are described again and again. Why? Best wishes, Petra ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 4 Apr 2002 17:21:41 EST From: Rachel Wild Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG The disposessed To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU OK just a [fairly] short one to begin... I have just begun the dispossessed after reading it 10 or so years ago I too find Anarres very stifling and was at first reminded more of ideas of communist regimes than anarchist utopias. Interestingly Shevek points out that there are few idealists left on Anarres due to the grind of struggle for survival. I began comparing Anarres to mouth of Matopoisett in Marge Piercy's Woman on the edge of time... there characters talk of a time when bare survival meant that people had to do without much of the time for reflection and play they currently enjoyed; but I never felt they had paid as little attention to the emotional as Anarres ... compare for example their different attitudes to childrearing and illness, work and commitments to close personal ties. Perhaps this reflects different strands of feminism and anarchism... the scientific strand of equal division of labour within an 'objective' positivist framework ... and the project of revaluing positivism in later more deconstructivist radical feminism. [uh...break from the jargon] I'm talking about the role of emotional closeness and its value within a society I suppose. Why is it 'ownership' on Anarres to feel ties? Knowing leGuins work and loving her mind I expect all this will get discussed later in the book... ByeBye Rachel wild@clara.co.uk PS this is my first post so "Hello everyone" ~:0> ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 5 Apr 2002 12:59:27 +1200 From: Jenn Martin Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG The Disposessed To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU >I'm talking about the role of emotional closeness and its value within a >society I suppose. Why is it 'ownership' on Anarres to feel ties? Just a thought, but maybe it's 'ownership' on Anarres to feel ties because it -is- an ambiguous utopia. I guess it's possible that part of Le Guin's ambiguity is that it isn't quite a utopia after all, that the theoretical ideas didn't really translate all that well in practise. I don't know if I'd go as far as to say 'maybe Odo got it wrong, and this is the result'... but I certainly got the sense, reading the book, that things weren't as peachy as they seemed. The moment that made the most impact on me was when Shevek is leaving Anarres and meets such violent resistance. The idea of that wall as a boundary, and the impact that his crossing it had on his fellow Odonians was quite terrifying, to me. Personally, I think feeling ties is human, I wouldn't cope very well lacking that. Jenn, busy at work, with only enough time for a quick thought. ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 4 Apr 2002 21:37:33 EST From: Margaret Poore Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG The Disposessed To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU I am one of those older folk who had the reaction to Odonianism that UKL'G expected. I thought it seemed like a very admirable society. but I have always thought that communism was a great idea; too bad no one has ever really tried it. And maybe that is her point: that it is very hard to put ideals into practice. And even if the original settlers got it "right", which seems to have been the case, sentient beings, or humans, anyway, have an innate need to create social structure. And even the most egalitarian, power-neutral society will eventually drift back toward a hierarchical and power-based system. Or maybe that would happen only in an environment where resources are scarce. It reminds me of religion; someone has a wonderful insight or message about love and people flock to the idea. Then a few generations later a great big "institution" has formed around the idea and/or personality and the whole idea gets turned on its head and we have crusades and jihads. I have always loved this book and have read it many times, and always something new in it I hadn't noticed before. This time what I noticed is that even though Shevek is shunned or criticized at every stage of his life ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 4 Apr 2002 22:11:16 EST From: Margaret Poore Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG The Disposessed To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU oops, hit the send button by accident..... so even tho Shevek never seems to fit into Odonian society, or at least there is always someone who thinks so, he himself completely internalizes it. He becomes the ideal Odonian, the one who continues to follow wherever the revolution leads him. He questions everything, including his own actions. He regrets his decision to take a posting that takes him far away from Takver and results in a four-year separation. He agrees to share authorship of his "Principles" since it is the only way to get it published and later realizes that the ends do not justify the means. He accepts the position at the university, knowing that they intend to "buy" his work by sponsoring him. But in each case his Odonianism leads him to realize his error, to change the direction of his life to fit his ideals. He creates his own position in society after the posting at the Physics Institute is denied him. He realizes that he cannot sell his work to the propertarians and finds a way to share it with everyone. I think Annares is an ambiguous utopia because it both works and doesn't work at the same time. They experience a freedom that their counterparts on Urras long for, even die to obtain. And yet for some, like Tirin, freedom becomes restraint as he is slowly destroyed by the dissonance between acting like a true Odonian and the rejection he experiences by Odonian society. On the other hand, Shevek, the ideal Odonian, finds freedom to move beyond each constraint or obstacle in his path. He is the revolutionary who never stops re-inventing himself whenever the archists seem to have him boxed in. I am realizing that Shevek is one of my very favorite fictional characters....and he's a MAN! NightSky ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 4 Apr 2002 23:58:31 EST From: Joy Martin Subject: [*FSF-L*] The Dispossessed To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU A beginning post: As I reread this, I slowly remembered the details of the society, although as seems to have happened quite a lot in my mind, I had parts of one of Samuel Delaney's novels, set on a similar world with similar communistic (communism with a little c) makeup mixed up with my memories of Dispossessed. The one memory that had stuck clearly in my mind after all these years was the conversation Shevek has with Vea in the park (on Urras), where she shushes him when he treads in the area of her being owned by men. That was the scene at the time, however many years ago, that struck the biggest chord with me, because it was clearly a discussion of the female as object, which at the time was probably one of the most radical ideas around. (Personally, I think it still is, but because of all kinds of developments, it doesn't shock or stir us in the same way.) I do not find the Odonian society 'stifling'; rather, it becomes clear as the book progresses that social consensus has become overly constricting for some individuals. Back at the time I read this first, lots of feminists would have described Shevek as 'elitist', in the sense that anyone out on the end of any bellcurve (whether it's intelligence or any other attribute) was seen as 'elite'. Anyone who stands out in any human group risks being ostracized, which is one of the less attractive tendencies of human beings, although it has its roots probably in protectiveness for survival of the small bands in which humans originated. Scenes like the beginning one, where the guard at the space landing area cannot understand the word 'bastard' (there is no translation) and looks contemptuously at the pistol of the crew member from the ship (and his threat), show a society which is very rooted in a nonviolent and egalitarian point of view which is still, to this day, refreshing. Numerous similar moments are shown throughout the novel. But an egalitarian communistic society will still have the problem of group dominance of individuals, which LeGuin goes to some pains to point out without wielding a heavy handed ideological axe (such as someone very antiCommunistic might wield; not very helpful in gaining insights). Actually, the society reminds me more of some types of traditional societies - say Native American - where basically everyone is equal but the main form of social control is the opinion of others (well, roles and rituals too, of course) rather than legal and other types of hierarchical methods. I think LeGuin does an excellent job of showing how this society is preferable for the majority of people to the capitalistic one on Urras, because, for example, as Shevek points out, no one starves while there is food available (i.e., people aren't allowed to feast while others starve). The biggest inequity in that regard is when Shevek gets dessert every day at school, when it's so unusual in the rest of society, and he ends up giving up dessert because it bothers his conscience. One might surmise, if the society wasn't so materially poor, bigger inequities might exist, given the problems of hoarding and 'egoizing' demonstrated by Sabul and in the PDC. I think LeGuin is showing us that no society is perfect, and even the best intentioned always needs a means to prevent consolidation of power. Every generation, we like to say about democracy, must recreate freedom, or, as Rich pointed out in her discussion of Dunayevskaya and Marx, revolution must be perpetual or fail. Shevek and his friends' Syndicate of Initiative is a means built upon the norms of Odonian society to keep the society from calcifying. It's not particularly a criticism of the Odonian society, but of any human society, that the tendency to overconformity and stultification is always there, and always requires some type of counterbalance. -Joy Martin "They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety"-Benjamin Franklin ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2002 13:05:35 +1200 From: Jenn Martin Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] The Dispossessed To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU All of this talk about revolution, the idea that it must be perpetual or fail, and the fact that Shevek is the ideal Odonian, because he continues to support the ideas behind the revolution, no matter what his circumstances, plus the fact that The Dispossessed has a circular narrative and journey, have reminded me of a book that I think influenced Le Guin when she was writing the Dispossessed. I'm sure she's read it: We, by Yevgeny Zamyatin. It's a book in which a future totalitarian state in a post-nuclear Russia is threatened by a small group of revolutionaries. Zamyatin uses colour imagery to emphasise the stasis and entropy of the totalitarian society and the circular and always-perpetuating nature of revolution. Has anyone read it? - Jenn ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2002 07:26:04 -0400 From: Dave Belden Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] The Dispossessed To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU When I was first enthused by Le Guin's writing, 25 years ago, I picked up a copy of We, but it didn't make a big impression. I think I was bored by it, and didn't finish it. Dave ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2002 11:00:29 EDT From: Rachel Wild Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG the disposessed To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU Hello everyone, I'm enjoying the debates on the Dispossessed very much... here's another one for you: I have just read the part where Shevek sexually assaults Vea. Although she seems to take the incident as a minor inconvenience [as many terran women today do] as she is accustomed to men treating her as an object, I found it either a flaw in the narrative or in Odonian influence on sexual equality. Why is Shevek excited by her resistance, why does he respond to her exaggerated 'femininity', why does he not immediately stop his advances when she objects? I question if Odonian society would produce a sexuality that would respond well to the physicality of Vea. Wouldn't a society where women are not objectified produce an attraction to equal power in sexuality rather than the reverse ... to tough hairy practical women? LeGuin argues that rape is uncommon on Anarres because there are lots of outlets for sexual expression - This side-steps the conception of rape as an act of power over another. [I suspect that groundbreaking assertion by feminists was not contemporary when she wrote the Dispossessed.] What do you think? does this incident fit with the rest of the narrative? is it an example of Shevek being corrupted by living unequally to women (I hope not.... the idea of a year offworld undoing all that conditioning ...) or are there flaws in Odonian society about how women are perceived as different to men? is Anarres a feminist society? and if it ever was, is the revolution faltering here too? ByeBye Rachel ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2002 12:21:48 EDT From: Joy Martin Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG the disposessed To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU In a message dated 4/7/02 10:00:53 AM Central Daylight Time, Wildseed13@AOL.COM writes: << What do you think? does this incident fit with the rest of the narrative? >> I felt that this section was possibly the most dated part of the book. Even given that Shevek is very drunk, and that in the end he stops, saying he thought she wanted, etc., it still fit an understanding of sexual assault that has been largely reputed. -Joy Martin "They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety"-Benjamin Franklin ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2002 13:17:25 -0400 From: Rose Reith Subject: [*FSF-L*] The Dispossessed mentioned in today's Washington Post Book World To: feministsf-lit@UIC.EDU From the broaduniverse listserve: At 12:47 PM -0400 4/7/02, Rob Gates wrote: Hey Folks, Just a quick FYI that today's Washington Post Book World appears to be an sf/fantasy/horror issue. There are a number of references of relevance to folks here, and one particular article (by Elizabeth Hand) deals specifically with women in the genre. You can see Book World online at http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/style/books/ I pulled up this page and found this mention of _The Dispossessed_ along with lots of other interesting info from various writers in the article titled "Close Encounters" ... Many people have dated a new era in their lives from the reading of just the right book. For this special issue, Book World asked some eminent writers, critics and editors to choose a favorite work of fantasy or science fiction, then explain in a few words a little of its personal importance or particular artistic achievement. NANCY KRESS When I first read Ursula K. Le Guin's 1974 novel The Dispossessed, I thought of its protagonist, "But Shevek is real!" It was the first time I had ever thought this about a science-fiction character: that he was as solid, as multifaceted, as contradictory and admirable and perverse as the characters in "mainstream" literature. It was a revelation. Science-fiction characters didn't all have to be lantern-jawed heroes or family-less adventurers or single-minded scientists. Real people, with slack jaws and families and hopelessly tangled loyalties, could inhabit the wondrously invented worlds of the future. And then I discovered Le Guin had actually pulled off this feat before: in her amazing The Left Hand of Darkness. In the quarter-century since, I have reread The Dispossessed several times. And he's still there: Shevek, a real person worth knowing, and (like most real people) impossible to know completely. He's as large and varied as his planet. And (added riches) so are Takver and Rulag and Bedap and the unfortunate Tirin. Le Guin's novel is frequently praised for its idealistic political insight and its beautiful prose. Those things are there, but to me they cannot compare with her achievement in deepening characterization in science fiction. And then I discovered that Le Guin had pulled off this feat before: in her amazing The Left Hand of Darkness. Real people -- how basic, how cataclysmic, how overdue. (Nancy Kress is the author of 18 books, most notably "Beggars in Spain." She is also the monthly fiction columnist for Writer's Digest magazine.) -- 'As a woman I have no country. As a woman my country is the whole world.' Virginia Woolf ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 28 Apr 2002 14:19:00 +0100 From: Angela Barclay Subject: [*FSF-L*] upcoming discussions To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU Our upcoming book discussions are: Suzette Haden Elgin's _Native Tongue_ (May 6 - June 2) Marge Piercy's _Woman on the Edge of Time_ (June 3 - June 30) In the week that remains before the _Native Tongue_ discussion begins don't hesitate to regenerate the discussion of _The Dispossessed_. Are there any listmembers who have written papers on _The Dispossessed_ or other works of Le Guin they'd be willing to share with us? ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 29 Apr 2002 08:49:35 -0400 From: Dave Belden Subject: [*FSF-L*] Reopening The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU I have been trying to get the time in a busy month to write about the Dispossessed. This was a seminal novel for me personally: one of a very few that made me throw all other career options out the window and try to make it as a writer. I was almost afraid to reread it: in case it wasn't as good for me now as it was then, or maybe in case I had not kept faith with it - I don't know what. When I read the novel first in 1976 I was more or less, at least in my dreams, living on Anarres. I had for 25 of my 27 years lived in first religious and then feminist/left communes, had been working for some years in collectives, considered myself more an anarchist than a socialist, was living in voluntary poverty. A lot of Anarres rang true to me: that it was highly idealistic, but calcifying as people sought security in the familiar and in groupthink. LeGuin understands that human nature endures, that we still seek for power and status even when we have leveled the playing field so drastically. She also understands the horror that people raised in a severely puritanical and idealistic milieu feel when they first go out to meet the enemy, the morally lax, the greedy capitalists... and the surprise when they discover that there are great souls among them, and also mostly just more human nature, not that different in some ways. I liked that the Anarres anarchists are still dependent on the wealthier society - that rang true. She captured a great deal of the complexity involved in being an anarchist, even while taking the anarchist world so much further than we had been able to create it in the 60s/70s. There was an article written by an American woman that was much quoted in the circles I was in, then, called 'The Tyranny of Structurelessness.' The argument was that if you try to create a world without formal structure, informal structures arise that are worse, because semi-invisible, without structures for democratic control. Anarres is actually managed by an informal structure that is extremely hard for Shevek to see. LeGuin seemed very wise about all this. The book is both an inspiration and a warning for anarchists. I was moved by reading the novel again. If anything I caught more of the nuances. The power of Shevek's search for truth was more of an inspiration to me this time. That he searches for truth in physics, which is so much more of a hard-edged field (in spite of its weirdnesses) than religion, politics or literature, was interesting to me: as a metaphor for truth... what could be more true than a weird theory that ends in creating an ansible, a real way of actually obliterating distance? Nothing postmodern here, in the sense of all truths being relative, and equally true. Either the ansible works or it doesn't. This establishes an old-fashioned (and possibly future) notion of truth at the center of the novel. As he follows his sense of truth, he comes to question the way his own society is failing in its mission, and to reach out to the other society and to discover truth-seekers and good people in it. Truth in that sense turns out to be wider than even the most idealistic political doctrine. Reading the book again I was struck by how plausible she makes it all sound, how real it seems, how believable the people. I thought once again what a great story teller and creator of worlds she is. I am just full of admiration. I love her sense of language, no false notes, every page a pleasure to read. I guess I turn out to be a lifelong fan. All this in spite of the fact that I no longer call myself an anarchist. I don't think human nature is advanced enough to create an anarchist society. It's not a bad vision, but for a very distant future, something we can move gradually towards but never expect to reach. I am more aware now how intractable human nature is, and how dangerous it can be to try to enact overly idealistic social systems. You might not get Anarres - you might get Stalin or Mao. I am more aware of the good that has been created in capitalist societies, often as a result of the campaigns of socialists and feminists. Better to deal with the devils we know, in ways we know, than try to create angels: that's my view now. A classic progression from idealism to a more cautious wisdom. Rereading the Dispossessed I think LeGuin was there all along, in some ways, and in other ways was letting her idealism rip. This is a great novel, big enough to incorporate different interpretations. Dave Dave Belden web page: www.davidbelden.com ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 29 Apr 2002 23:11:30 -0500 From: "Janice E. Dawley" Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU After many delays, I have at last finished re-reading *The Dispossessed*. What an amazing book! I remembered its strength, the acuteness of its vision, but I had forgotten how beautifully structured and musically resonant it is. Not in a dazzling, showy way, but in complete service to the story and its concepts. Odo is quoted as saying "true voyage is return", and Shevek's General Temporal Theory says, "You *can* go home again [...], so long as you understand that home is a place where you have never been." That is exactly how Shevek's story is structured, a spiral voyage that returns him to a changed Anarres, a revitalized world. How workable is that world, really? I don't know. One of the great unanswered questions of the novel is how Anarres could come to be, complete with a new language and a million citizens willing and able to speak it. Apart from a few historical notes about Odo, we don't get much background on the revolution and the early years of the colonization. But I found that this wasn't that important to me, because the contemporary society was described with such detail and subtlety that I completely believed in it, warts and all. Less convincing, actually, was the depiction of A-Io on Urras. Perhaps because so many of the events and customs there could be taken straight from our own newspaper headlines, Le Guin seems to have taken less care and invested less emotion there. There is not the same need to make it feel real because it is already depressingly familiar. Most readers see the novel as a compare and contrast exercise between a capitalist nation-state (A-Io on Urras) and a theoretical utopian alternative (Anarres). The differences between them are highlighted again and again. Urras is fertile and rich, but stratified and secretive; Anarres is comparatively barren and harsh, while also being much more open and egalitarian. But Le Guin takes care to show that the two planets are not independent of one another. Each needs and reacts against the other in a complex economic and ideological system. Near the end of the book, the Terran ambassador Keng says to Shevek: Perhaps Anarres is the key to Urras... The revolutionists in Nio, they come from that same tradition. They weren't just striking for better wages or protesting the draft. They are not only socialists, they are anarchists; they were striking against power. You see, the size of the demonstration, the intensity of popular feeling, and the government's panic reaction, all seemed very hard to understand. Why so much commotion? The government here is not despotic. The rich are very rich indeed, but the poor are not so very poor. They are neither enslaved nor starving. Why aren't they satisfied with bread and speeches? Why are they supersensitive? Now I begin to see why. (p. 275, Avon edition) This strikes me as similar to Shevek's idea that there is "a woman in every table top" on Urras -- that by the persistent denial of certain ideas, you only end up thrusting them into the subculture or the subconscious, from whence they will spring again when the time is right. The influence of Jung and Taoist thought is obvious here, as in much of Le Guin's work. In fact, the first description of the wall (one of the book's most pervasive visual images) in chapter 1 can also be seen as one half of a yin-yang symbol written on the face of Anarres. The worlds interpenetrate one another; each is a part of the whole Cetian system. The system is not balanced or unchanging, though -- far from it. Each nation on Urras is depicted as a political powder-keg (Benbili blows about half-way through the book), and Shevek's Syndicate of Initiative does quite a job of stirring up Anarres. To me, this is the central theme of *The Dispossessed*: all human society is process, and it is the responsibility of every individual to understand their place and power in that process, to face the walls and know them, to unbuild them where possible, even knowing that the unbuilding cannot be permanent, that it will have to be done again. It's interesting that the book implies that, if you *aren't* confronting walls and experiencing pain, there's something wrong, either with society or with you. Life is very hard on Anarres, and the descriptions of the famine years are sad and disturbing. But the luxury of Shevek's life at Ieu Eun is even more disturbing, because it is based on the hidden (at least from Shevek) poverty of others. It is fundamentally dishonest. So is the behavior of any number of people on both planets who hypocritically spout ideals while acting in opposition to them. They are taking the easy, dishonest way out. At the end of chapter 2, Shevek says, "[Brotherhood] begins in shared pain." Logically, then, without pain, there is no brotherhood. This fits right in with Le Guin's other extended exploration of an ambiguously utopian society in *Always Coming Home*, with its self- limiting, genetically damaged population, but it runs counter to many people's ideas of the perfect society. She's perverse that way, eh? Petra asked how people engaged with the story, as an exploration of character or an exploration of societies. For me the book is incredibly rich in both. Anarres feels more real to me than many communities on Earth -- even some I've lived in! Urras was less satisfying to me, as I said, but in a way that made sense because Shevek was only there for a year or so and was carefully prevented from seeing much of the planet. And the people... I didn't remember it being so, but upon rereading I've decided this is Le Guin's most character-driven novel. Shevek alone is an extraordinary creation, not so much because he is an extraordinary individual (though he is that), but because we see so many sides of him, the bad with the good. He is a full human being. Then there are all the other memorable characters: Takver (whom I appreciated much more this time around), Bedap, Chifoilisk, Pae, even minor characters like Desar the hoarder, and Bunub, the neighbor with a persecution complex who coveted Shevek and Takver's room. I felt again and again, "I've met people like this. These are real people." This sense of reality reminded me strongly of Le Guin's stories of Orsinia, a fictional Eastern European country that is the subject of *Orsinian Tales* and the novel *Malafrena*. Both books are out of print, but they're well worth tracking down if you are interested in other works by Le Guin that play in the same heart-rending minor key as *The Dispossessed*. And I did find it heart-rending. I don't even know how many times tears slipped from my eyes while reading it. Am I just getting old? I don't know, and I don't care. This is good stuff. Petra also asked, "What are the feminist aspects of the novel?" Well, foremost is the fact that work on Anarres appears to be completely gender neutral. All jobs are equally likely to be held by men or women. And the sexes are not differentiated by clothing or grooming. (Vea asks in chapter 7 how often Anarresti women shave. Shevek's answer is: they don't.) Some of Shevek's earliest intellectual influences, Mitis and Gvarab, are older women, and of course the spiritual founder of Anarres, Odo, is a woman. Marriage, an institution that many radical feminists have objected to, doesn't exist on Anarres, and primary care giving is as likely to be provided by men like Shevek's father as it is by women like Takver or a communal creche. Anarres is truly egalitarian for women. And homosexuals like Bedap are not disapproved of or even seen as unusual. I loved the ease with which Le Guin introduced Shevek's sexual liaison with Bedap, and the fact that it was not a big deal to either of them when it ended. That still seems pretty revolutionary to me. I was bothered, however, by the scene Rachel mentioned, in which Shevek nearly rapes Vea. I too couldn't understand how he would be excited by her resistance, unless Le Guin was positing a primal male response to women who seem to be "asking for it" (Shevek sees Vea as provocative from the beginning). Takver does mention that there are "body profiteers" on Anarres, but since there is no example of one in the text, Shevek's behavior with Vea comes across as bizarre and horrifying, even given that he is drunk. And there is no follow-up to it, so we are left with the impression that her side of the story doesn't matter. Dated is a charitable way of putting it, I suppose. I was also bothered by the characterization of Shevek's mother, Rulag. I had forgotten that she reappears at the end of the book as a firm opponent of the Syndicate of Initiative. There is just no way for me to separate this revelation of her repressive politics from her earlier cold approach as a mother; the one seems to be an outgrowth of the other. It comes across as an indictment of the unnatural career woman who lets her child suffer. Grr. Overall, I think Le Guin was trying to depict complete sexual equality without erasing sex differences altogether... and she botched it now and then. But she mostly got it right. And the book is so well crafted, so intelligent and so resonant otherwise that I still see it as a masterpiece. I could go on and on about the metaphors and patterns in the novel, but I won't. Maybe I'll write an essay one day. Thanks to Petra and all the voters who prompted me to read this book again. It was marvelous. ----- Janice E. Dawley.....Burlington, VT http://homepages.together.net/~jdawley/ Listening to: Television -- Television "...the public and the private worlds are inseparably connected; the tyrannies and servilities of the one are the tyrannies and servilities of the other." Virginia Woolf, Three Guineas ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 30 Apr 2002 10:18:06 -0400 From: Rose Reith Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] Reopening The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU I'm glad Dave wrote his perceptions of the book. I too have been trying to find the time and an inspiration as to what to say about the Dispossessed, since I finally finished reading it about a week ago. This is only the first time I have read it. It was amazing. It was interesting. Despite it being rather dryly written, I had no trouble finishing it, but as you can see I'm just having great difficulty coming up with anything intelligent to say about it. The way LeGuin makes Annares so real is remarkable. I liked her technique of alternating chapters that eventually led to a feeling of having come full circle. I was really concerned that Shevek would never again fit in with his family and friends on Annares after having broken that taboo and gone to Urras. I didn't find his embarrassing attempt to have sex with that stupid woman, Vea, who certainly behaved like a courtesan, all that unbelievable - or was it that people thought he wanted to rape her? - as did some of the other readers who wrote in earlier. I guess I believed that she thought she knew what she was doing, according to the standards of her own society, and his only real fault was not understanding those same standards. She was not really coming on to him the way he perceived it, for her it was just part of the game she was using him in to appear to be such a sophisticated hostess, holding the most enviable soiree. If he had been Urrasti he would have realized that, much of her allure would have been diffused, and he surely would have found a way to score one off her in return. Because he is naive, and believes people are motivated by truer emotions, he thinks she is actually attracted to him for himself, not as a trophy specimen from another world. Anyway, all in all I agree with Dave that LeGuin is truly remarkable in the way she characterizes her novel. It is all very believable, very moving, and very thought provoking. But for a first time reader, who has not really had any thought or it is also Rose -- 'As a woman I have no country. As a woman my country is the whole world.' Virginia Woolf ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 30 Apr 2002 10:58:54 -0400 From: Dave Belden Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU Janice, thank you for this post. I learned a lot from it, thought it full of insight. I liked your emphasis on the interdependence of the two societies, and your view that: > To me, this is the central theme of *The > Dispossessed*: all human society is process, and it is the responsibility > of every individual to understand their place and power in that > process, to face the walls and know them, to unbuild them where possible, > even knowing that the unbuilding cannot be permanent, that it will have to > be done again. This in itself is a major argument against the notion of utopia. Societies can be improved, even greatly, but the struggle is constant and never ending: we never arrive. I would say it's only when we feel 'at home' in this constant journeying, when we see the journey itself as home, that we can be comfortable in this world. We even have to learn to feel at home with the idea that there is value in contradictory ideas - not that everything is equally true, but that the ideas you choose and make your 'home' are not all there is. I feel LeGuin is saying all of this. The constant intellectual challenges posed to Shevek and his circle are a great deal of what makes the book appealing to me, and as appealing today as 25 years ago, even though I no longer think Anarres as practicable a goal as I did then. I also liked your statement that > Anarres feels more real to me than many communities on > Earth -- even some I've lived in! I felt similarly, and to my great surprise, felt it more now than when I first read the novel. How do you explain this - what do you think she is doing that makes this stand out from so many less successful descriptions of imagined societies (or even of actual societies)? I fail in analytical ability at this point and start muttering things like 'great novelist', but I would like to understand better, if anyone can go further here. You mentioned a number of things, of course - the full characterization of individuals, the ironical interdependence of enemies - i.e. a level of complexity that reflects reality. I like the descriptions also of the spare physical bleakness of Anarres, so severely idealistic and northern/protestant (in terms from our times), so far from the more Hispanic, warmer, relaxed, life-celebratory 'utopias' of Piercy's 'Woman on the Edge of Time' or Starhawk's 'The Fifth Sacred Thing'. Even so, I feel there is much I don't understand about her achievement here. On the 'rape' scene. I think I agree with the post by Rose Reith, just received. I have been puzzling over this. Did LeGuin assume men had some primeval urge that got triggered by Vea's sexual trickery, or did she just describe a lonely man who thought he was being offered sex and misread the signals because he came from somewhere else? I am more comfortable with the latter interpretation, and with the idea that he had got somewhat unhinged by the frustrations of life on Urras, one of which was the sexual tease gambit he had not known before. Yes, he then behaves badly, but the man isn't a saint, and he probably feels anger towards Vea, for her underhand Urrasti way of operating, as well as lust. How easily we can get confused and act against our own best principles when put in a world where nothing is as it seems. That interpretation works for me. But I agree with Janice about Rulag. Dave ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 30 Apr 2002 20:34:21 EDT From: Joy Martin Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU I've been thinking about the drunken sexual scene with Vea off and on since my last post about it (way back earlier this month), but haven't had the time really to write. Despite its 'dated' sense, it's a crucial scene, really pivotal in the novel, because it's after that scene that Shevek changes his course on Urras and begins to refocus on the reasons he had come there. Shevek realizes after that evening the extent to which he has been lead astray, or dallied without making progress, both in his theoretical work and in his political work. In Chapter 9, when he realizes 'they own him' and when he talks with his servant, Efor, about the differences in their societies ("No body ever out of work there"...'no' "And nobody hungry?" "Nobody goes hungry while another eats" "Ah"..."It is not all milk and honey on Anarres, Efor". "I don't doubt it, sir ...All the same there's none of them there!" "Them?" "You know Mr. Shevek..the owners"), Shevek finds his bearings and discovers not only the solution to his theoretical quandary, but to his political one. Even before that, at the party, while he is drunk, Shevek takes the plunge into his first moment of eloquent total honesty with his hosts, in that wonderful speech where he says about Anarres "it is not wonderful. It is an ugly world...Life is dull and hard work. You can't always have what you want, or even what you need*, because there isn't enough. You Urrasti have enough...You are rich, you own. We are poor, we lack. You have, we do not have. Everything is beautiful, here. Only not the faces. On Anarres nothing is beautiful, nothing but the faces. The other faces, the men and women. We have nothing but that, nothing but each other. Here you see the jewels, there you see the eyes. And in the eyes you see the splendor, the splendor of the human spirit. Because our men and women are free - possessing nothing, they are free. And you the possessors are possessed. You are all in jail. Each alone, solitary, with a heap of what he owns. You live in prison, die in prison. It is all I can see in your eyes - the wall, the wall!" It's immediately after this beautiful speech that Vea takes him away to the bedroom and he almost - not quite - forces himself on her. [*shades of the Rolling Stones!:>) And then there's the other 60s reference, maybe, to 'free is just another word for nothing left to lose'. Even though these references seem pretty humorous when I point them out, the speech is still moving.] After Shevek makes his break away from the college and the 'owners', seeking out the revolutionaries, when he finds them, the women in their group are much more egalitarian, much more reminiscent of Anarres, very unlike the women of Vea's class. "The girl Siro came up to him. Smiling, she stooped as if bowing to him, a little timorously, with decorum, and kissed him on the cheek; then she went out. The touch of her lips was cool, and he felt it on his cheek for a long time." What really got me thinking about all this was wondering about the possible parallels in some current feminist orthodoxy, and in the orthodoxy that had become a problem on Anarres. Did the scene with Vea seem dated because we have come to see any miscommunication over sex as rape or leading to rape? (And always the man's fault?) Is this a case of our own ideas getting ahead of actual changes in our society? How very interesting, for example, that what was unthinkable 30 years ago, the very idea that there is 'date rape', which seemed laughable (except to feminists), has become widely accepted, but rape itself still exists and in fact may be on the upsurge. Similarly, on Anarres, ideas had gotten ahead of actual changes in the society, and the ideas had become an orthodoxy, while hiding problems that still needed changing. When I started noodling around with these parallels, what I came up with was that, even with someone with as much integrity as Shevek, brought up in a society like Anarres, it is still possible that he could have a response to Vea that included excitement over her (apparent) struggle. It's not just a case of 'he's an imperfect but real human being', although he is definitely that, but it's also an excellent illustration of how social change and personal change occur often in various waves or crises, rather than step by step increments. Somewhere in chapter 9 Shevek talks about how he had been looking for 'certainty' - (in his theories, but the context shows us that this applies in life and politics as well) - and how that need for certainty was a mistake. Orthodoxy is just that, a substitution of certainty for honesty. Vea is a woman who makes use of what little power she has in her society, which is mostly sexual power, and who believes that any woman in any society would dress the way she dresses and act the way she acts, if 'given the chance'. Unlike the revolutionary women Shevek later meets, Vea isn't interested in changing anything. Or, if she is, she hasn't confronted this idea in herself in any conscious way. She's not a victim of Shevek, although she is a victim of the narrow gender roles of her society, not that she would ever acknowledge that. Shevek stumbles to the very edge of an abyss in this critical scene, and his subsequent remorse and equally scathing self assessment lead him back out again. I think it's quite appropriate that LeGuin shows Shevek as reaching an existential crisis through this almost rape scene. It's the 'almost' that's telling, and it's putting it to us, challenging us, the readers, to think about what's actually going on, before, during and after this scene, rather than seeing it through the lens of any kind of orthodoxy. Which is what the whole book, in a nutshell, could be said to be about. Honesty versus orthodoxy. Change vs certainty. I had to think back about what the second wave of feminism, esp. the WLM part of that, was all about. For example, ending rape, not just improving the chances of getting a conviction against a rapist. Idealistic? You bet. But also necessary. One of the most important things going on was women 'telling the truth' about their lives. And that's easiest done by people who are willing to be rebels and be on the 'outside'. As soon as the rebels' ideas become accepted, as soon as they, to some extent, succeed, the problem arises of people taking the ideas as orthodoxy, rather than as part of a process of truth seeking and continuous change. Exactly the kind of problem as LeGuin describes on Anarres. Odo lived her whole life on Urras. She never saw Anarres, the world built from her precepts. And that world, Shevek sees, is in danger from an orthodoxy that has developed because of the very success of those precepts. Rulag, whatever else she is, is someone who is clinging very hard to orthodoxy and for me she represents that tendency in all of us, far more than any 'embittered career woman' stereotype. Part of my admiration for LeGuin is that she will give us a character who could be seen in stereotypical terms, but then shows us that she/he is not that at all, or, is much more than that. I don't think that LeGuin or Shevek (or for that matter, women's liberationists) would agree with the idea of "Better to deal with the devils we know, in ways we know, than try to create angels". Quite the contrary. As Shevek says at the end of the last chapter, "Freedom is never very safe." and a little while later, he 'laughed, a laugh of clear, unmixed happiness.' -Joy ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 1 May 2002 06:24:17 EDT From: Rachel Wild Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG the disspossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU Hi, I'm glad the discussion on the Dispossessed has resurfaced and I'm finding the debate over the incident with Shevek/Vea interesting. When I first wrote of it I was specifically interested in, I suppose, the social conditioning of 'desire' - in our society so tied up with seduction and power. I'm still confused by Skevek's perception of 'femaleness' and his appreciation of it (hetero)sexually. Why does he find Vea more sexualised than women on Annares when he was never raised to perceive women for any of these attributes. In the narrative it even seems that seeing pictures of the body profiteers as adolescents is arousing - a kind of porn even. All this brings up questions for me about the whole way le Guin writes the issue of sexuality and gender for Annares... for example why is bisexuality not the norm in a society where males and females are non-sex differentiated? ... why do 'gay' people not seem to couple? and oddly... why do the boys set themselves apart at adolescence? I would hope that in a gender egalitarian society this sort of behaviour would alter - the only other explanation being that these things are biological. Or is Annares gender free... pronouns still remain in the language and much conversation occurs about women's biological destiny - e.g. the conversation in the work crew about women being 'natural' profiteers because they bear children. These flaws seem to fit with the general themes of imperfection and perpetual revolution... fascinating. ByeBye Rachel ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 1 May 2002 23:05:31 +0200 From: Diane Severson Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU Hello everyone, I am enjoying your comments enormously and feel mostly incompetent to say anything intelligent about the book, other than it is a profound book and definitely one I plan to read again, especially since those of you who have read it a second time consider to have enjoyed it as much if not more than the first time! This was my first time reading it. Every time I read another LeGuin novel, I am always so moved. Each novel confirms her status as my favorite author of all time. Thanks Janice for the recommendations of more similar novels. I will definitely keep my eye out for them - I always look for LeGuin novels at every used book store I go to! I did want to draw your attention to a short story about Odo's last days on Urras before the Revolution. It's one of the few stories I know of, in which the main character is elderly. And we get a view of Odo we might not expect having read about her legendary person in *the Dispossessed*. The story is called: "The Day Before the Revolution" and won Best Short Story (I'm not sure which contest though...) in 1974. It demonstrates LeGuin's "...rare understanding of how society shapes an individual's perceptions and aspirations, and how individuals strive to be themselves -- within the yoke that their society places upon them." If anyone has trouble finding it contact me, I may be able to help... Diane Currently Reading: Mistress of Spices, Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni Kaffir Boy, Mark Mathabane (Autobiography) Recently Read: The Law of Love, Laura Esquivel - 3.5/5 Fun! A Series of Unfortunate Events, Book I - the Bad Beginning, Lemony Snicket - 3.5/5 Silly! The Grass is Singing, Doris Lessing, 4/5 Bleak Lilith's Brood, Octavia Butler, 4/5 Fascinating The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas (short story), U. LeGuin 4.5/5 Makes you think The Day Before the Revolution (short story), U. LeGuin 4/5 Individuality The Dispossessed, U. LeGuin, 4.25/5 Holding true to oneself ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 1 May 2002 21:17:06 GMT From: "Jeremy H. Griffith" Organization: Omni Systems, Inc. Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU On Wed, 1 May 2002 23:05:31 +0200, Diane Severson wrote: >The story is called: "The Day Before the Revolution" >If anyone has trouble finding it contact me, I may be able to help... It's the last story in her anthology "The Wind's Twelve Quarters", ISBN 0-06-012562-4. It originally appeared in Galaxy in 1974; the award it won for best short story was the Nebula that year... The rest of the anthology is well worth reading too. --Jeremy H. Griffith http://www.omsys.com/jeremy/ ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 1 May 2002 18:48:19 EDT From: Joy Martin Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU In a message dated 5/1/02 4:18:46 PM Central Daylight Time, jeremy@OMSYS.COM writes: << The story is called: "The Day Before the Revolution" >If anyone has trouble finding it contact me, I may be able to help... It's the last story in her anthology "The Wind's Twelve Quarters", ISBN 0-06-012562-4. It originally appeared in Galaxy in 1974; the award it won for best short story was the Nebula that year... The rest of the anthology is well worth reading too. >> Thanks to both of you for this info. I have to find this story.-Joy "They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety"-Benjamin Franklin ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 1 May 2002 23:30:45 -0500 From: "Janice E. Dawley" Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU At 08:34 PM 4/30/02 -0400, Joy Martin wrote: >I've been thinking about the drunken sexual scene with Vea off and on >since my last post about it (way back earlier this month), but haven't >had the time really to write. Despite it's 'dated' sense, it's a crucial >scene, really pivotal in the novel, because it's after that scene that >Shevek changes his course on Urras and begins to refocus on the reasons >he had come there. It's no accident that this chapter, number 7 of 13, is the exact center of the novel. I think of this chapter as Gluttony : Vomit : The Nadir. This is the one time when Shevek truly loses his grip, if only temporarily, yet as you said, he is afterwards able to see Urras in a new way and to make his biggest conceptual breakthrough in physics. It is the turning point. >What really got me thinking about all this was wondering about the possible >parallels in some current feminist orthodoxy, and in the orthodoxy that had >become a problem on Anarres. Did the scene with Vea seem dated because we >have come to see any miscommunication over sex as rape or leading to rape? >(And always the man's fault?) Is this a case of our own ideas getting >ahead of actual changes in our society? > >I had to think back about what the second wave of feminism, esp. the WLM >part of that, was all about. For example, ending rape, not just improving >the chances of getting a conviction against a rapist. Idealistic? You bet. >But also necessary. One of the most important things going on was >women 'telling the truth' about their lives. And that's easiest done by >people who are willing to be rebels and be on the 'outside'. As soon as >the rebels' ideas become accepted, as soon as they, to some extent, >succeed, the problem arises of people taking the ideas as orthodoxy, >rather than as part of a process of truth seeking and continuous change. I'm confused here. You seem to be saying that it is simple orthodoxy to see this as a rape scene, and I couldn't disagree more! It's clear to me that Le Guin *intended* her readers to see Shevek's behavior as attempted rape. He was ready to force himself on Vea despite her resistance and only stopped, as far as I can tell, because he ejaculated prematurely. We are supposed to be shocked and ashamed of him, just as we are supposed to be acutely embarrassed by his drunkenness and subsequent puking in the middle of the party. Shevek has never behaved so badly in his entire life, and presumably never does so again. This chapter wouldn't be the turning point it is if he wasn't shown to be in such a dark place. So the fact that Shevek behaves badly is not a problem for me. What bothers me is: 1) the seemingly unquestioned assumption that he would be excited by Vea's genuine fear and struggle; I'm not saying it's impossible, just that I would have liked an explanation (Rachel already said this better than I can); 2) the lack of any sympathy for Vea, who really does come across as a "slut" (though at least an intelligent one). In her more recent writings, Le Guin has shown a lot more sensitivity about the dilemmas women -- even collaborators like Vea -- face in severely misogynistic societies. >Rulag, whatever else she is, is someone who is clinging very hard to >orthodoxy and for me she represents that tendency in all of us, far more >than any 'embittered career woman' stereotype. Part of my admiration for >LeGuin is that she will give us a character who could be seen in >stereotypical terms, but then shows us that she/he is not that at all, >or, is much more than that. Her reappearance at the end of the book was, for me, exactly what pushed her character into the realm of stereotype. The earlier scene, when she visited Shevek in the hospital, was more nuanced and ambiguous. I wish Le Guin had left it at that, rather than making her into a villain who publicly threatens her own son with violence. In the characterizations of Vea and Rulag, I think Le Guin made some decisions that betray an underlying conservatism about gender roles and the family that also comes out, to an extent, in the relationship of Shevek and Takver. They have what amounts to a picture perfect marriage (even if it isn't formally recognized as such) that is valorized in a way that other relationships are not. And one could argue that Takver, who is so often identified with nature, water, and animals, is a classic nurturing earth mother. She is not *only* that, of course -- she is far from a stereotype to me -- but I don't think it is an accident that she *is* that. How did other people perceive her? -- Janice ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 2 May 2002 15:40:10 EDT From: Joy Martin Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU In a message dated 5/1/02 11:30:56 PM Central Daylight Time, jdawley@BELLATLANTIC.NET writes: << I'm confused here. You seem to be saying that it is simple orthodoxy to see this as a rape scene, and I couldn't disagree more! It's clear to me that Le Guin *intended* her readers to see Shevek's behavior as attempted rape. He was ready to force himself on Vea despite her resistance and only stopped, as far as I can tell, because he ejaculated prematurely. >> I don't think it's at all clear what LeGuin 'intended' here. And I think it is probably a form of orthodoxy if we don't think about the scene carefully and examine it closely. At any rate, that's what I've been ruminating on, and trying to dissect in my own mind, as carefully as I can, what it is that bothers me here, why it bothers me, how much of it is because of LeGuin's portrayal, how much of it is because of the difference in how we look at date rape (which is more or less the category I'd put this scene in, although it doesn't entirely fit there either) now and how we looked at it when this novel was written, and whether any of that difference is due to a kind of simplistic orthodoxy that's taken the place of honest analysis and examination. First Vea says she 'has to kiss' Shevek and "lifted herself on tiptoe, presenting him her mouth, and her white throat, and her naked breasts." He kisses her, "forcing her head backward" and she "yielded at first as if she had no bones, then she writhed a little, laughing and pushing weakly at him, and began to talk. "Oh no no now behave"...'He paid no attention. He pulled her with him toward the bed, and she came, though she kept talking"... she says she has no contraceptives/ don't mess up her clothes/ people will notice/ her reputation. "Frightened at last by his blind urgency, his force, she pushed at him as hard as she could, her hands against his chest. He took a step backward, confused by her sudden high tone of fear and her struggle; but he could not stop, her resistance excited him further. He gripped her to him, and his semen spurted out..." "Let me go, let me go!" she was repeating in the same high whisper. He let her go. He fumbled at his trousers, trying to close them. "I am - sorry - I thought you wanted -" "For God's sake!" Vea said, looking down at her skirt... "Really, now I have to change my dress!"... Then Shevek stumbles back out to the party and vomits. Okay, then on to Chapter 9, where we find Shevek coming to from the party. First he tries not to think about it, then he does, and feels vile. He thinks about how he has been a fool before and an outsider, but he never accepted others judgements of him or felt ashamed. Then LeGuin writes, "He did not know that this paralyzing humiliation was a chemical sequence to getting drunk, like the headache. Nor would the knowledge have made much difference to him. Shame - the sense of vileness and self-estrangement - was a revelation. He saw with a new clarity, a hideous clarity; and saw far past those incoherent memories of the end of the evening at Vea's. It was not only poor Vea who had betrayed him. It was not only the alcohol that he had tried to vomit up; it was all the bread he had eaten on Urras... and he looked at his life in the light of shame." And we read on to find him remembering all of his time on Urras and his hot shame and then moving beyond guilt to the question "Having locked himself in jail, how might he act as a free man?" Now, one question is, did LeGuin, as you say, 'clearly intend for us to see this as attempted rape?' Rape implies intention, a guilty party. I think LeGuin shows Shevek as the sympathetic party here, even in the 'scene' itself - how violated does Vea sound, when she complains about her dress? Shevek is clearly confused, and Vea is sending what we call 'mixed messages'. So, whatever the problem is with the scene, I don't think it's because LeGuin 'clearly intended' us to see it as attempted rape, with a clear victim and a clear guilty party. LeGuin says Shevek is ashamed and describes all that happened as 'vile', but Shevek's shame is for being mistaken and having acted abominably and ridiculously because of it. He made the mistake of thinking Vea wanted sex, when she didn't. And he realizes he has been very stupid in having made that mistake. And this realization leads him to have the same understanding about all his time on Urras. So, is LeGuin just writing from a dated perspective here? The scene does read a bit like soft porn. Vea says no, but in such a way that it doesn't sound very much like no. She's trying to talk her way out of a sexual situation, and not succeeding, particularly since her reasons don't sound like 'no' but only 'later'. When, finally, she pushes Shevek away, he belatedly realizes with some confusion that she really may mean no. But LeGuin shows Shevek as not being able to stop himself. Vea's 'resistance' further 'excites' Shevek. All of these things are what make the scene seem dated. Back when this was written, a woman wasn't supposed to 'get herself into' such situations, and if she did, especially if she was at all sophisticated (as Vea obviously is), the blame was at least as much on her shoulders as the man's. (In reality, that hasn't changed much.) OTOH, when I first read this years ago, I think, if memory has any reliability, that this scene still bothered me. I didn't like Vea's portrayal. So is it that the scene is 'dated' or is it something else? I can't say that I've answered this to my own satisfaction yet. (I do know I have a less, shall we say, 'partisan' view of the whole thing than I did then.) However, one of the 'something elses' going on here is a culture clash, because what we have is a man raised in a culture where he has never experienced the kind of sexual manipulation (and other kinds of manipulation) common on Urras (at least in the social strata he has been in contact with to that point in the story). And Vea is a woman from that social strata, which is in some ways reminiscent of our own, but not in every way (for example, the degree of sexual segregation is similar to the 50s, although even then it was never as complete - for example, no women in the university - as on Urras, but the barebreasted fashhions would never have fit in the 50s and is more reminiscent of the 60s or later). Anarres, OTOH, is a bit straightlaced, in terms of fashion say, although totally different in how the sexes live and work together. So even if LeGuin were to write this book today, the scene might still be written the same way, or close, in order to show us the way these two cultures, personified in these two characters, conflict. We're not just looking at a clash between a woman and man of the same culture, say, USA circa 1960-70. We're looking at a man coming from Anarres, tripping across a sexual minefield in Urras. And of course it's not just the sexual clash, but many other differences that trip him up. I suppose that's one of the upsides of writing science fiction. Because the setting is other worlds only partly similar to our own, even the 'dated' aspects don't date as much. Anyway, some of the questions people have: would Shevek 'really' find Vea's struggle 'exciting' if he was from Anarres? Would boys still hang together in early adolescence? and so forth, can't be answered definitively. It's very possible, it's believable, that Shevek could find Vea 'exciting', simply because we don't know just how malleable sexual response is, or what would totally change it. We do know it takes a while to change anything, and even a few hundred years of Anarres might not change everything. It's a good guess to think that males would still find bare breasts titillating (forgive the pun), especially if they are used to seeing them hidden. At any rate, by mixing the bag up at bit, LeGuin keeps us from getting mired in any stereotypes and keeps us thinking. I'd like to go on about that for a while, but I think I'm just done for the day. -Joy "They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety"-Benjamin Franklin ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 2 May 2002 15:01:38 -0500 From: "Janice E. Dawley" Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU On 4/30/02, Dave Belden wrote (re: the believability of Anarres): >I felt similarly, and to my great surprise, felt it more now than when I >first read the novel. How do you explain this - what do you think she is >doing that makes this stand out from so many less successful descriptions >of imagined societies (or even of actual societies)? I fail in analytical >ability at this point and start muttering things like 'great novelist', but >I would like to understand better, if anyone can go further here. I'm mostly muttering too, but I do have a few thoughts... Conflict and genuine, thoughtful argument are an integral part of the Anarres story line from the beginning. When Shevek, Bedap and Tirin are young, they often heatedly discuss the society they see around them. It makes perfect sense for their characters -- they are adolescents, questioning their world. It also functions beautifully as the reader's introduction to some of the issues that will be central to the story. A lot of writers describe their fictional societies in clumsy expository lumps or speeches that are too obviously stuffed into their characters' mouths, but in the Anarres sections, at least, this dual, sometimes triple, purpose is nearly always in harmony, working together rather than seeming forced. The Urras sections are less successful at this (for example, see Pae and Oiie on women in chp. 3, and Atro on Cetian superiority in chp. 5). Shevek also gets to travel quite a bit and see different areas of Anarres. Once again, the dual purpose: work postings, an integral part of the society, further the character's story while functioning as a narrative tool. Le Guin could conceivably create a work posting for Shevek whenever she wanted the reader to see a new region of the planet, to understand another part of the whole, and in fact she does, but it never seems like an easy authorial trick. It is always plausible. I also liked the fact that Shevek's friends are important not just as emotional support, but as thinkers in their own right. For all his individual brilliance, he does not have all the right answers, and never will. He needs his community to be a full human being. Enough for now. Back to muttering. ----- Janice E. Dawley.....Burlington, VT http://homepages.together.net/~jdawley/ Listening to: Television -- Television "I've built my white picket fence around the Now, with a commanding view of the Soon-to-Be." -- The Tick ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 2 May 2002 17:54:01 -0500 From: "Janice E. Dawley" Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU At 03:40 PM 5/2/02 -0400, Joy Martin wrote: >In a message dated 5/1/02 11:30:56 PM Central Daylight Time, >jdawley@BELLATLANTIC.NET writes: > ><< I'm confused here. You seem to be saying that it is simple orthodoxy to > see this as a rape scene, and I couldn't disagree more! It's clear to me > that Le Guin *intended* her readers to see Shevek's behavior as attempted > rape. He was ready to force himself on Vea despite her resistance and only > stopped, as far as I can tell, because he ejaculated prematurely. >> > >I don't think it's at all clear what LeGuin 'intended' here. And I think it >is probably a form of orthodoxy if we don't think about the scene >carefully and examine it closely. Isn't that what we are doing? >Now, one question is, did LeGuin, as you say, 'clearly intend for us to >see this as attempted rape?' Let's see if I can clarify this in my own mind. There are two issues here. 1. Did Le Guin think of this as a rape scene? 2. Is it legitimate to talk about it as a rape scene if she didn't? First off, I want to retract my earlier statement. You're right, it's not clear what she intended, though I certainly don't think that she approved of the way Shevek behaved in this scene. The way Vea is written, the frivolous excess of the party, the lack of any follow-up except in Shevek's mind makes the whole incident seem like a phantasmagoric, sickening revelation of the rot at the center of Urrasti society. Seen in this light, Shevek's behavior is not a reflection of his own immorality, but a warning of how even he might be infected by this sickness if he does not escape this "jail." If we think of rape as a crime that marks a person as essentially bad, forever a rapist, then no, I do not believe that Le Guin thought of it as a rape scene. Shevek was acutely sick, not evil. As for the second question, yes, I think it is perfectly legitimate, though by that I do not mean that the scene becomes simpler or easier to understand. Rape may be an easy word to throw around, but like all human problems, it is a very complex issue. To argue that Le Guin didn't completely think it through and to discuss the flaws in her thinking doesn't seem unreasonable or repressive to me. >Rape implies intention, a guilty party. I'm not sure I agree wholeheartedly with this statement. I guess it depends what you mean by "intention". Full, conscious, intention? (i.e. Shevek thought he was raping Vea and went on regardless.) Partially conscious intention? (i.e. Shevek intended to have sex with Vea despite her resistance, but didn't think of it as rape.) Almost completely unconscious intention? (i.e. He was so drunk and confused that his id took over.) The first intention was clearly not in Shevek's mind. A combination of the second and third scenarios is closer the mark. So we are allowed some sympathy for Shevek's point of view, but I can't see how you can argue that Shevek didn't intend on some level to take what he wanted from Vea regardless of her own wishes. He noticed her "sudden high tone of fear and her struggle", he was not oblivious to her reaction, yet "he could not stop, her resistance excited him further." Why is that, when his society has taught him from a very early age not to egoize, not to value what he wants above what other people want? Culture clash or not, he is behaving badly. Is confusion and drunkenness an excuse for his behavior? Are confused, drunken rapists on our own planet not still rapists? He does not rape Vea, of course. He briefly frightens and inconveniences her. Her comment about the dress underlines how little the entire scene has meant to her (this is what I meant when I said Le Guin has no sympathy for her -- with that one line she is made into a trivial person), but the fact that it isn't important to her doesn't mean that Shevek has done nothing wrong. In the next chapter he indeed feels intense shame, but no guilt. He also thinks that Vea has "betrayed him". In my opinion, that overstates her control of the situation and allows him to shift too easily to thoughts of State control and how he has been used. It doesn't quite gibe for me. >Anyway, some of the questions people have: would Shevek 'really' find Vea's >struggle 'exciting' if he was from Anarres? Would boys still hang together >in early adolescence? and so forth, can't be answered definitively. Even so, a lot of authors put more effort into thinking about these issues than Le Guin did in this book. Done well, it can be a valuable and fascinating line of inquiry. -- Janice ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 2 May 2002 22:40:48 EDT From: Joy Martin Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU In a message dated 5/2/02 5:54:14 PM Central Daylight Time, jdawley@BELLATLANTIC.NET writes: << He also thinks that Vea has "betrayed him". In my opinion, that overstates her control of the situation and allows him to shift too easily to thoughts of State control and how he has been used. It doesn't quite gibe for me. >> I'm not sure if Shevek is referring to being betrayed in terms of sex, or that Vea called people to take him back to the university. I think probably the latter, more than the former. Vea also says 'say hi to the Chief for me' when they come to pick Shevek up. Which makes me think Vea is more of a conscious agent -for the bad guys- throughout this story than might first appear. << but I can't see how you can argue that Shevek didn't intend on some level to take what he wanted from Vea regardless of her own wishes. He noticed her "sudden high tone of fear and her struggle", he was not oblivious to her reaction, yet "he could not stop, her resistance excited him further." Why is that, when his society has taught him from a very early age not to egoize, not to value what he wants above what other people want? Culture clash or not, he is behaving badly. Is confusion and drunkenness an excuse for his behavior? Are confused, drunken rapists on our own planet not still rapists? >> I think both on our planet and on these two different ones, some situations are far more complex than the word 'rape' or 'attempted rape' implies. As I said, I'm still trying to unravel the various threads of this, but it's pretty hard to say who the true 'guilty party' is in this scene. Shevek feels shame, because he is in fact able to. Vea feels, what, miffed? She's certainly not a sympathetic character - and we agree on that, it seems. When I first read this, years ago, I think I felt it was unfair to make Vea so unsympathetic. I would have liked to see her change. Now I wonder exactly how else to portray her, except as she is. Unlike Shevek, who is a 'free man', in the fullest existential sense - he takes responsibility for his life enough to change it, Vea is not a 'free woman', in all its existential senses. So Shevek is more responsible, in a way Vea cannot be. Not so much for what he did or did not do sexually, but because of how he acted subsequently. I think I very much wanted Vea to become a free woman, but she did not, and the dramatic conflict of the book would have been entirely different if she had. However, now, I'm not so concerned about whether it was fair to treat her unsympathetically, because I'm much more willing to see that her particular personality fits the society she was in. And I think that LeGuin, by showing us just how unappealing such a woman can be, is honest, and pretty accurate, even if we wish it were otherwise. Why is Vea attracted to Shevek (if she really is, or is just pretending)? She seems to be attracted to the rebel, but not the cause. And why is Shevek attracted to Vea? Because perhaps she seems to be attracted to the rebel that he is. But he has a cause, and that's what saves him. Also at the time I first read this I was very much wanting to identify strongly with a given character. Then, I found it hard to identify with any of them. Perhaps Vea seemed likely, since she clearly was from something close to 'our' world, and because I was hoping she would change, and it bothered me that she didn't. Now, interestingly, I can identify with almost all of them, even the slimy types like what's his name, the physicist in Anarres who kept coopting Shevek's ideas. I can see easily enough how anyone might become like any of these people, in the right circumstances. And it doesn't bother me that LeGuin didn't tell a different story, with say, a woman as protagonist. In fact, I'm so very glad she told the one she did. - Joy "They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety"-Benjamin Franklin ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 2 May 2002 23:45:56 -0400 From: "Janice E. Dawley" Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU At 10:40 PM 5/2/02 -0400, Joy Martin wrote: >I think both on our planet and on these two different ones, some situations >are far more complex than the word 'rape' or 'attempted rape' implies. This seems like the crux of our disagreement. I don't think the term "rape" simplifies the situation, and you do. >I think I very much wanted Vea to become a free woman, but she did not, and >the dramatic conflict of the book would have been entirely different if she >had. However, now, I'm not so concerned about whether it was fair to treat >her unsympathetically, because I'm much more willing to see that her >particular personality fits the society she was in. And I think that LeGuin, >by showing us just how unappealing such a woman can be, is honest, and pretty >accurate, even if we wish it were otherwise. When I was reading this section of the book, I didn't think or hope that Vea would transcend the constraints of her society. But the author could have shown a more nuanced understanding of why she would choose to play the games she plays, as well as the dangers of playing them. Daya in Suzy McKee Charnas' Holdfast series is an example of what I am talking about. She's what is called a "pet fem" in a post-holocaust, nightmarishly misogynistic society, the rare female who is chosen as a plaything rather than relegated to hard physical labor. In many ways, she is better off than other women, but she faces her own special set of hazards and emotional pitfalls. She's pretty twisted, and not any more sympathetic than Vea is, at least to me, but she's a lot more real. ----- Janice E. Dawley.....Burlington, VT http://homepages.together.net/~jdawley/ Listening to: Television -- Television "I've built my white picket fence around the Now, with a commanding view of the Soon-to-Be." -- The Tick ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 3 May 2002 12:47:37 -0400 From: Dave Belden Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG the dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU Rachel wrote: "Why is Shevek excited by her resistance, why does he respond to her exaggerated 'femininity', why does he not immediately stop his advances when she objects? I question if Odonian society would produce a sexuality that would respond well to the physicality of Vea. Wouldn't a society where women are not objectified produce an attraction to equal power in sexuality rather than the reverse ... to tough hairy practical women?" "I'm still confused by Shevek's perception of 'femaleness' and his appreciation of it (hetero)sexually. Why does he find Vea more sexualised than women on Annares when he was never raised to perceive women for any of these attributes. In the narrative it even seems that seeing pictures of the body profiteers as adolescents is arousing - a kind of porn even." Janice wrote: "He noticed her "sudden high tone of fear and her struggle", he was not oblivious to her reaction, yet "he could not stop, her resistance excited him further." Why is that, when his society has taught him from a very early age not to egoize, not to value what he wants above what other people want?" I would like to say I have found this whole discussion very interesting, and in fact I got thoroughly depressed yesterday at the feebleness of my own level of insight compared to some on this list - thought I had best enter some other line of endeavor. However, casting self-pity aside, I foolishly enter the lists again. What intrigues me about the above quotes is the idea that the right society will 100% cure men of acting badly. We are the direct descendants of all the men and women before us, who reared their children to procreative age in less than ideal circumstances, thanks to all kinds of strategies, from brutal to lovingly cooperative. Their abilities are in some way or other genetically inherent in us. I know evolutionary psychology is highly controversial, and I am no expert in it, but nuanced versions of it exist that seem to potentially quite fully integrate its insights with those of sociology / anthropology. It's not that I am a biological essentialist, but nor am I a cultural essentialist. We are not 100% creations of our culture. Our genes matter. The precise mix of nature/nurture is impossible to fathom, even in theory, as both work together in indecipherable feedback loops from conception on. But clearly there is no way to ensure the character of anyone by upbringing alone, even in a mono-culture. Especially, who we are erotically attracted to is famously mysterious, or contrary. The culturally forbidden seems to have its appeal often enough. And alcohol notoriously weakens our controls over ourselves. Vea also is not just a type, but an individual. Who knows what her pheromones subconsciously meant to Shevek, or his to her? It seemed quite plausible to me that he could be excited by her, first of all - after all she's putting out sexual come-ons, he's lonely and sexually bereft, we are a species with a long history and pre-history of promiscuity.... So he's drunk, lonely, his strength in many ways taken from him, and he exerts himself forcefully, shamefully in response to this inauthentic (by any Anarresti standard) sexual tease. He would never have done it sober. It's only a big problem to accept, if you harbor what I think is a naive hope that human nature is entirely moldable by the right culture. As I write this, here comes Melissa's "I am beginning to wonder if we are arguing nature vs. nurture here. Some of what I'm hearing almost sounds to me as if folks believe we are born blank slates and we only acquire imprints from our culture. Am I hearing that correctly, or no? I spent some time at the altar of 100% nurture, but have now backed down to more of a 50-50 arrangement, seeing the imprint of both nature and nurture." Dave web page: www.davidbelden.com ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 3 May 2002 12:51:46 -0500 From: "Janice E. Dawley" Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG the dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU On 5/3/02, Dave Belden wrote (re: Shevek's behavior towards Vea): >It's only a big problem to accept, if you harbor what I think is a naive >hope that human nature is entirely moldable by the right culture. I'm beginning to think that I have completely failed at expressing myself. My problem with this scene is NOT that Shevek behaved the way he did. My problem is that he and Vea and presumably Le Guin did not even question his response. Sex roles and the position of women are important topics of this book. My argument is that Le Guin could have taken her investigation further into the realm of sexual behavior itself and the book might have been the better for it. You say that nurture doesn't completely determine who we become; I completely agree. But to imply that Shevek's sexual reaction in this scene is *not even worth questioning* given the attempts of his own society to equalize gender roles and eliminate sexism seems bizarre to me. That doesn't mean that I wish she had written a completely different novel. As I've said before, I love this book, and I feel that I have dwelt on this one section way too much. But I must object to the idea that those of us who doubt that all sexual behaviors are hard-wired or think they are worthy of debate are being naive or "orthodox"! p.s. The message you quoted at the end of your post did not come through to me. Was it from another list (not FemSF-Lit)? ----- Janice E. Dawley.....Burlington, VT http://homepages.together.net/~jdawley/ Listening to: Television -- Television "I've built my white picket fence around the Now, with a commanding view of the Soon-to-Be." -- The Tick ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 3 May 2002 14:22:50 -0400 From: Dave Belden Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG the dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU > On 5/3/02, Dave Belden wrote (re: Shevek's behavior towards Vea): > >It's only a big problem to accept, if you harbor what I think is a naive > >hope that human nature is entirely moldable by the right culture. > > I'm beginning to think that I have completely failed at expressing myself. > > My problem with this scene is NOT that Shevek behaved the way he did. My > problem is that he and Vea and presumably Le Guin did not even > question his response. I probably did take that sentence of yours out of context. It jumped out at me because of earlier contributions that I felt showed over much surprise that Shevek could behave badly. That fed into a general concern of mine that we sometimes are too hopeful about sociological engineering, because of treating people too much as blank slates. i.e. one of my buttons was pushed. I'm sure we agree that part of what makes the novel so convincing, is that LeGuin does portray contradictions. You make an interesting point, that this one she could have taken further. > p.s. The message you quoted at the end of your post did not come through to > me. Was it from another list (not FemSF-Lit)? That was from this list. A post by Melissa Bowersock, today 12.30 pm on my machine (I am in the US, EDT). ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 3 May 2002 14:28:49 -0400 From: Helen Thompson Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG the dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU >> p.s. The message you quoted at the end of your post did not come through to >> me. Was it from another list (not FemSF-Lit)? > >That was from this list. A post by Melissa Bowersock, today 12.30 pm on my >machine (I am in the US, EDT). That's from the FSFFU discussion. I'm an avid reader, though quite the lurker, on both lists--and I just yesterday set the FSF lists to separate filters to keep straight which discussion is where. Both are fascinating right now, so I'll just chime a quiet thank you and make a mental note to catch up on my LeGuin reading. ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 3 May 2002 18:49:49 EDT From: Joy Martin Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG: The Dispossessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU In a message dated 5/2/02 10:45:06 PM Central Daylight Time, jdawley@BELLATLANTIC.NET writes: << This seems like the crux of our disagreement. I don't think the term "rape" simplifies the situation, and you do. >> I think it does and did until we started looking at it more closely. But whether this is the crux of our disagreement or not, I'm not sure. At this point, what I think most bothers me about this scene is that, by saying Shevek can't stop himself, LeGuin seems to be accepting one of the myths of male sexuality, that once men reach a point of excitement they are not able to stop (I'm not talking about orgasm, I'm talking about stopping themselves in the midst of the sex act with another person). Arguably, one might still say that it was impairment of control and judgement from the alcohol, not anything inherent in male sexuality, that LeGuin means in writing this. But it's the one thing in the scene that I think could have been left out without changing the dramatic consequences, or truthfulness to the characters; or, to put it another way, reflects uncritiqued assumptions, rather than an honest portrayal of her characters. I may not be saying that as well as I would like, but it's the thread I've come down to in my unravelings. Unlike the portrayal of Vea, which I think is honest, and almost everything else in the scene, which I think can be seen as a direct consequence of the characters' cultures and personalities, this one thing is neither. (Although as I said it too could be interpreted slightly differently, in which case, it's a wash.) << But the author could have shown a more nuanced understanding of why she would choose to play the games she plays, as well as the dangers of playing them. Daya in Suzy McKee Charnas' Holdfast series is an example of what I am talking about. She's what is called a "pet fem" in a post-holocaust, nightmarishly misogynistic society, the rare female who is chosen as a plaything rather than relegated to hard physical labor. In many ways, she is better off than other women, but she faces her own special set of hazards and emotional pitfalls. She's pretty twisted, and not any more sympathetic than Vea is, at least to me, but she's a lot more real. >> It's been a while since I've read Charnas' novel, so I can't really comment on the comparison. But I think Vea was plenty real, although it's true we don't know as much about her as we might in some other setting or in a novel where her character was the focus. In general, I think LeGuin's societies are more believable by far than Charnas', although Holdfast was very interesting and well realized as a fantasy about what might be. "They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety"-Benjamin Franklin ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 3 May 2002 20:13:49 EDT From: Rachel Wild Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG The Disposessed To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU "I probably did take that sentence of yours out of context. It jumped out at me because of earlier contributions that I felt showed over much surprise that Shevek could behave badly. That fed into a general concern of mine that we sometimes are too hopeful about sociological engineering, because of treating people too much as blank slates." I just got all excited that I hadn't remembered how absolutely central this theme ... 'the blank slate' is to this whole book. Shevek spends large swathes of his life being penalised for being incorrectly socialised - for egoising, for being a 'genius', for thinking differently ... and I think the narrative concludes with the idea that only mavericks can stop a society from silting up... that change is essential to *perpetual revolution*. This is the very thing I love about the book. The thing I can't however square with this is the 'Vea incident' .... I'm impressed by earlier contributions that pointed out how pivotal the whole of this night is to the book and to Shevek's actions, but as well as questioning the whole 'what is erotic/what is power' argument the *aftermath* is so out of character for Shevek - this is a guy who spent years of desperate loneliness without sex because he would not have a lesser experience than what he has with Takver [subtext being that Annares corrupts the part other tribulations cannot reach?]... and then he doesn't endlessly berate himself for egoising as he is wont to do in all other situations ... why? I'm not surprised at Shevek ever behaving badly ... he is pretty much a fascinating character because he is fallible [I for one am not impressed by how accepting he seems to be of having a servant for months ... even though he tries to change the relationship] ... but I agree that a fuller [and perhaps historically later] exploration of sexuality would have deepened an already deep book. ByeBye Rachel ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 7 May 2002 17:17:48 -0500 From: "Janice E. Dawley" Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG Postscript: *The Dispossessed* and *We* To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@UIC.EDU Jenn Martin mentioned Zamyatin's *We* near the beginning of our discussion. It's been on my shelf for years now; this was the push I needed to get me to read it at last. As a companion piece to *The Dispossessed*, it's fascinating. The tone is completely different -- despite being sf, *The Dispossessed* is a realist novel, whereas *We* is an exaggerated satire. It's about a future civilization called the One State that has walled itself off in a city of glass. The citizens are called "numbers" rather than people, all of life is regimented and scheduled, there is no privacy except for assigned periods of copulation, even the food is mass-produced from petroleum. (The book is often funny.) On the surface *We* resembles *1984* a lot more than it resembles *The Dispossessed*. But on the level of imagery and detail there are so many resonances that it's obvious Le Guin read *We* and was profoundly affected by it. There isn't a one-to-one correlation between all the elements. In fact, I found it very interesting that some of the features of the dystopian One State are features of Anarres: marriage doesn't exist, everyone's life is lived in full view of others, names are assigned impersonally and children are raised in communal centers. Le Guin's take on these things is just about 180 degrees opposite Zamyatin's. But as Jenn pointed out, the two books are in agreement about revolution. The following quote is from the "Thirtieth Entry", relating a conversation between the narrator and his lover, the rebel I-330. "Don't you realize that what you're planning is revolution?" "Yes, revolution! Why is this absurd?" "It is absurd because there can be no revolution. Because our [...] revolution was the final one. And there can be no others. Everyone knows this..." The mocking, sharp triangle of eyebrows. "My dear -- you're a mathematician. More -- you're a philosopher, a mathematical philosopher. Well, then: name me the final number." "What do you mean? I... I don't understand: what final number?" "Well, the final, the ultimate, the largest." "But that's preposterous! If the number of numbers is infinite, how can there be a final number?" "Then how can there be a final revolution? There is no final one; revolutions are infinite. The final one is for children: children are frightened by infinity, and it's important that children sleep peacefully at night..." Odo's theory encompasses this need for renewal, and *The Dispossessed* argues that the revolution can come from within, that it need not involve bloodshed and civil war. In that way, it is more optimistic than *We*, which sets up a totalitarian state so oppressive that it must be entirely swept away before the people can be free. Having finished *We*, I idly took Le Guin's collection of essays, *The Language of the Night*, off the shelf. I thought, "maybe she mentioned it?" Boy, did she! If anyone wants proof of how much she thinks of *We* and Zamyatin himself, check out her essay "The Stalin in the Soul", in which she says, "I do consider [We] the best single work of science fiction yet written". Her overview of Zamyatin's life makes me wonder if he himself might have been the biggest influence on her characterization of Shevek. I wouldn't call *We* the best sf novel ever written -- not by a long shot. But I'm glad I read it, and I do recommend it. Thanks, Jenn. And thanks to everyone else for a great discussion! -- Janice