Ursula: A Celebration

One of my favorite authors died this year, and I just found out.

And it wasn't even recently--it was all the way back in January that Ursula K. Le Guin passed away.  But I'm not fully wired in to the 24-hour news cycle, and since a daily paper now costs roughly the same price that I used to pay for a paperback book...well, is it any wonder I sailed through this year in blissful ignorance?

By any measure, Le Guin was awesome.  She wrote well and she lived well, and kept doing both pretty much until she died.  Her writing produces (at least in me) a sort of "woke hypnosis"--I finish a story of hers, and find myself hyper-alert to the doings in the world around me, rather than zoned out and daydreaming.  Nothing wrong with a trip up into the ozone, but we all need a good, gentle shake-up now and then.  Ursula was just the lady to do it.

And her life?  Well, she knew several languages, and translated a number of literary works into English, and wrote poetry and non-fiction as well as the fiction she is best-known for.  And she was married to the same man--Charles Le Guin--until she died;  they had three children.  Along with this, she was a feminist--not one of the militant ones who carried signs advising women to go on strike against their husbands, but the sort who thought that if women wanted to go out and do something, they should just get out and do it, no histrionics necessary.  She opposed the Vietnam War, the ugliness being wrought by misuse and abuse of the environment, and fascism of any stripe (this often showed up in her stories).  Also, she was a Taoist.  Maybe that's why she seems so gentle;  the Tao is just as much about not doing as it is about doing...perhaps more so.

So yeah, I'll miss Ursula.  But rather than mourn or weep, I think I'll just introduce you to a few of my favorite Le Guin stories and novels, and you can see for yourself what I mean....

The Lathe of Heaven

Hands down, my favorite novel.  A man, George Orr, has the ability to change the entire universe when he dreams, and the ability terrifies him so badly that he fraudulently acquires prescription drugs to try to keep from dreaming at all.  Caught and sent to a dream specialist for therapy, his ability is discovered, both by the doctor, William Haber, and by a female lawyer named Heather Lelache whom Orr hires to make sure Haber isn't monkeying around with his head.  Of course, Haber is doing just that--he's convinced that if he guides Orr's special dreams, the world can be made a better place.  But there's always a dark side to those "improvements,"  as George tries to warn Haber--like overpopulation being solved by a pollution-spawned plague, or racial tensions disappearing because everyone in the world is, and always has been, gray-skinned.  I can't really say more without spoilers.  Read it, and you'll get what I mean.  There were two movies made of this book;  the best one is the PBS adaptation from 1981.

The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas

This story is based on a very simple premise:  a perfect society which is only perfect because a single person is continually made to suffer.  If you knew about this single sufferer, and knew that the only reason you get to have such a wonderful life is that this person is suffering--and worse, any attempt by you to alleviate that suffering would destroy the entire society--what would you do?  Would you look, and then go on with your life;  go ahead and rescue the scapegoat, society be hanged;  or...would you walk away?  Despite crediting the idea to William James, Le Guin says that the real inspiration came from a half-remembered reading of Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov and from reading a road sign backwards (the road sign in question I leave as an exercise for the student).

The Dispossessed

Subtitled "An Ambiguous Utopia,"  this is one of Le Guin's most famous novels.  Its Odonian society on the semi-arid moon called Anarres is modeled on the real-world concept of pacifistic anarchism, in which all cooperate for the good of the entire society.  It isn't Communism, for there is no central state; if an Odonian wants to get something new going, he just finds a group of like-minded people and forms a syndicate.  But what if what you want is to do physics...a kind of physics that needs data from Anarres' sister world Urras, rejected long ago by the Odonians?  On this, the entire plot hangs;  there are triumphs, conflicts, culture shock, and eventually homesickness.  Odonian society is a sort of anti-Ayniverse, but it's not perfect.  Ursula warned us right up front, remember?

Changing Planes

Airports suck.

We all know it.  Confusion, long waits, missed connections, security hold-ups, horrible food...and all this was before some crazy thought it was the will of Allah to crash passenger airliners into buildings!

But what if all that misery could be put to use?  As in, to help you really get away from it all?  According to Sita Dulip of Cincinnati, the proper miserific state, plus a "slipping twist and a bend,"  will enable you to go somewhere else entirely--a bright, tropical paradise like Djeyo, or the perfect world of the Nna Mmoy, whose language is so complex it's like an evolving life-form, or Hegn, where everybody is royal and the one family of commoners are celebrities.

What a fun idea!  Which is why this is my favorite collection of Le Guin's short stories.  One of them in particular, "Great Joy,"  is a Christmas tradition for me--its undertone of satire, plus the hilarious dialect given to Cousin Sulie, plus the ironic ending...it doesn't sound very Christmas-y, but trust me, it is...at least, the way most Americans celebrate it...

Sur

Nine South American women mount an expedition to Antarctica, "to go, to see"...and to reach the South Pole if they can.  They don't want fame;  they just want to see if they can do it.  And in order not to bring unwanted fame or embarrassment to their families (or disappoint any explorers that come after them), they keep their accomplishments a complete secret, except for some documents and maps hidden in a few South American attics!  It's not a haphazard undertaking, and all the women are well-off, which, along with the backing of an unnamed benefactor, grants them the freedom to do such a seemingly-crazy thing.  Altogether a wonderful story of the triumph of the sisterhood...feminism, Le Guin-style.

It would be cool if the U.N. could agree to give one of the mountains in Antarctica a name from the ladies' maps in this story--you know, as a way to honor Ursula.  I would be thrilled to see real maps with an Antarctic mountain called "Bolivar's Big Nose."  Or what about  "Throne of Our Lady of the Southern Cross"?  Is there a U.N. committee that oversees these things?  Let's get a letter campaign going!

Catwings 

A series for children about a strange mutation that produces a litter of kittens who have wings and can fly!  Of course, there are grownups who want to exploit the Catwings, but the bad guys get thwarted by some kids, who take the Catwings out to a farm where the kittens will be safe (although the mice certainly won't be...).

There were four books in the series:  Catwings, Catwings Return, Wonderful Alexander And the Catwings, and Jane On Her Own.

And, there you have it...

Just a few of the great writings of Ursula K. Le Guin.  Go find a book shop at once...an indie one if you can.  You'll have better luck finding her works there.  Hey, you might even find a first-edition copy of Rocannon's World.

Enjoy!