![]() ![]() ![]() To this end, Le Guin not only picks up the tradition of science fiction as a vehicle of cultural destabilization (as with Shelley and Cavendish) but recasts this legacy in the atmosphere of 20th century “progress”- to blast down confining, finite (the truly performative “unreal”) constructs of the very “real” infinities of science fiction. But that’s her art- you aren’t familiar with the planet or the people or their social structures but you do (hopefully) recognize misogyny, racism, classism, ableism, discrimination, cruelty, and exploitation when you see it in a narrative, and you notice it in all of its gore because it’s the only thing that looks familiar. ![]() She doesn’t want to throw you into a “new” or “blazing world” (even when she does) for the sake of the imagined world she is doing so to draw into the light the familiar grievances that are so ingrained in our “real” lives that we cannot see, much less be outraged by them. ![]() Much in the vein of Mary Shelley in the 19th and Margaret Cavendish in the 17th century, Le Guin’s work does not so much disturb as she does destabilize. This was my first full foray into the bright-dark world of Le Guin, and as with many famed authors I am easing into for the first time, a sharp collection of electric short stories was the right call for me- and if the same is true for you, start here, but know as I have learned that Le Guin did not come to make you feel comfortable. ![]()
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