Lucas Blogs About The Dispossessed

You may have noticed that I daintily withdrew two fingers to make sure that the author's name would be visible. You're welcome.

So, what's this book's deal?

The idea that a deal could belong to any one book is propertarian excrement!

Beg pardon?

Just getting into the spirit of this week's book. The Dispossessed, a novel which is apparently labelled as "An Ambiguous Utopia" in previous editions. And speaking of this edition, Harper Perennial published it with a number of embarrassing typos.

That's not something you usually harp on.

No it is not, Hypothetical Reader. But there's a particularly egregious one I'd like to point out before we go any further. See, the novel follows the main character, Shevek, from infancy to adulthood, and in the section where Shevek is eight years old, his age is initially given as eighty.

That's pretty egregious. But you're getting ahead of yourself. Who wrote this book?

Oh, it's by Ursula K. Le Guin.

The same Ursula K. Le Guin whose Earthsea series you just reviewed in full?

Too soon to go back to that well?

Maybe?

Anyway, the novel takes place on a pair of binary planets inhabited by humans, each considering the other planet to be their moon. Anarres is a largely barren and inhospitable planet which is the home of the Odonians, a group of utopian anarchists that left Urras more than a century ago to found a society based on freedom from all forms of power and coercion.

How's that working out?

Pretty well, actually, it isn't perfect, but the Odonians seem pretty content with their lives, and they certainly don't have the same problems with poverty and war that they left behind on Urras, where a proxy war is brewing between the capitalist I-Ao, and the authoritarian Thu in the neighboring country of Benbili. Anyway, while this volatile situation is going on, Shevek is causing upheaval in Anarres by becoming the first Odonian to leave. See, he's traveling to Urras at the invitation of a university in I-Ao, where he hopes to resolve the the seeming conflict between Simultaneity and Sequency in temporal physics (a breakthrough that could lead to the development of instantaneous communication between any two points in space, sharp-eyed readers will recognize this as the ansible from The Left Hand of Darkness). However, the idea of someone going back to a planet filled with capitalist and authoritarian regimes doesn't sit well with many Anarresti.

You're doing that thing where you trip over yourself trying to explain the premise rather than getting to the core of the story.

You're right. The Dispossessed is a lot like a standard utopian novel with the key difference. Instead of being about a stranger finding himself in a utopian society, it's about someone from a utopian society who goes outside.

Isn't that a lot like Stranger in a Strange Land or any given episode of Star Trek?

If you squint hard enough, I guess. Anyway, let's talk about this book. Le Guin structures the novel with two parallel storylines. In odd-numbered chapters, we follow Shevek as he boards the freighter for Urras and experiences life in what he would call a propertarian society. I-Ao may have natural beauty, luxury, and academic freedom, but Shevek also witnesses the exploitation of the lower classes and the misogyny of a society that treats women as little better than property.

And in the even-numbered chapters?

We follow Shevek from nursery school through his decision to leave Urras. See, it turns out that he's always been a bit of a round peg. And while you'd think that this would be fine in a society founded on ideals of freedom and self-autonomy, there's more than a little societal pressure to fit in and go with the flow. For example, when Shevek wants to teach classes on Simultaneity, his university adviser (a Sequentialist) uses his influence to keep Shevek languishing in obscurity. But at the same time, men and women are treated equally by the law, crime is nearly unheard of, and everyone is fed and clothed and housed. That said, conditions are spartan. The closest Shevek comes to luxury in his life is a ratty orange blanket that a previous resident left behind in his college dorm. And when a famine strikes, the few organizational structures the Odonians have become a good deal more coercive.

Does Shevek fit in any better on I-Ao?

How likely do you think that scenario seems?

Pretty unlikely.

Indeed, I would say that that's one of the novel's strengths. Neither society is presented as wholly bad or wholly good (though the novel does have a definite bias towards the society where women aren't treated like chattel), and Shevek isn't presented as fitting in fully in either. Instead, Le Guin seems more interested in exploring the ways in which Shevek—shaped as he is by his upbringing in an anarchic, communal society—reacts to Odonian society. Whether that means his revulsion at social inequality, his awe at luxury, or even his indulgence of his worst appetites, Shevek serves as a window into a worldview that may differ significantly from the reader's.

Does she pull it off?

Pull what off?

Does she make Anarres and Urras into believable settings? Is Shevek a believable protagonist?

Oh. I guess it depends. Urras is largely believable because so much of it comes from things that have existed in Earth's history. How much you believe in Anarres and Shevek is probably dependent on your ability to believe that such a society could exist. But if you want to finish the novel and explore its ideas, you kind of have to accept them, don't you?

I suppose. But do you accept them?

For the sake of argument or just generally?

Either.

Obviously, I was able to finish the book, so I was able to accept them on that level. As for whether a society like Anarres could exist in the real world. I'm not so sure. After all, the book is an ambiguous utopia. That said, I wouldn't dismiss the idea out of hand.

But would you want to live in a society like that of Anarres?

Well, on the one hand, I'm way too attached to my material possessions. On the other hand, I do find a sense of relief when I get rid of material possessions. But more importantly, I would like to live in a society with a minimum of exploitation and coercion (though both definitely exist on Anarres). In any case, Le Guin does some interesting things with the utopian genre, resulting in a thoughtful, deliberative novel that both fully commits to its concept and doesn't back away from exploring potential downsides.

So, you like the book?

I do like the book. One thing that readers might be wary of is the fact that The Dispossessed, like The Left Hand of Darkness, is deliberately paced and isn't necessarily in a hurry to reach the ending.

That sounds like code for "boring."

Some people might find it boring, yeah. But that slower pacing is to both novels' advantage as each book rewards a more contemplative reading. Instead of just rushing to the conclusion, they invite you to think about what you're reading and—

Let's call it here before you become too pretentious to bear.

Is it pretentious to think about the things you read?

You were definitely striking a bit of a pretentious tone there. I think we're done here.

If you say so. I'm not saying you should rush out and buy this book (I mean, I bought it) but I'll bet it's at your local library.  It's worthwhile.

The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin, Harper Perennial Modern Classics trade paperback edition, 2014 (originally published 1974), 387 pages, pairs well with holum grain alcohol and an old orange blanket

Links:

Here's Ursula K. Le Guin's website, if you're into that kinda thing. FYI, it looks like whoever runs it has recently given it a facelift.

If you want to get a bit more into the nitty gritty of what does and doesn't work in the book, here's a much more in depth analysis from io9's "Blogging the Hugos" writer Josh Wimmer. He's less sold on the book, for pretty good reasons. Though I disagree with his assertion that the downsides of Anarresti society are so minor. The Odonians are thoroughly unprepared for scarcity in drought years (despite living on a planet with one native food plant) and the strong pressure towards conformity stifles creativity and scientific progress (Shevek is unable to publish his work and one of his friends from school retreats into a metal heath facility after a satirical play he wrote is denounced as propertarian). Wait, why I am using this link to reply to a 9-year-old blog from another website? Not sure, anyway, he also delves more into the books Taoist themes, a particular area of interest for Le Guin (and something I picked up on way more in The Left Hand of Darkness).