The Left Hand of Darkness is a science fiction novel written
by Ursula K. Le Guin, first published in 1969 (this review is based on the 2010
edition). But it is not a cyborg-war-in-the-matrix kind of science fiction.
Technology only plays a minor role.
The most prominent aspect of this novel certainly
is the gender topic: Human ethnologist Genly Ai is sent to the planet Winter
to study the aliens there, who are basically hermaphroditic humans with a
mating cycle called kemmer, which
allows them to become male or female and mate heterosexually. The rest of the
time, the Gethenians, as they are
called, remain asexual. Also, their planet is mostly covered in snow and ice and
there are no other mammals and technology is comparatively underdeveloped, they
don’t have any spaceships unlike their visitor Ai.
The novel starts
right in medias res, and first, you will find it difficult to find your way in this strange setting You are witnessing a royal procedure in the kingdom of Karhide. Later, you will learn that you
read from two perspectives: Some chapters are narrated by Ai, the human whom the
Gethenians regard as a “pervert” for being a male-only and thus in constant kemmer. Our “pervert”, however, doesn’t consider reproducing. Aprt from his scientific studies, his goal is to convince his Gethenian contacts to join the intergalactic trade union. Other passages are narrated by Estraven, the only Gethenian to offer Ai a helping hand (and thus putting himself in danger).
Unfortunately
for Ai, most of the Gethenians are terribly ignorant and refuse to believe
that he has come from a different planet. They just regard him as a weirdo, and
even their leaders don’t recognize the opportunity to profit
from an alliance with his people. In order to avoid further tensions, he withholds the fact that there is another spaceship in the orbit with more of his kind on board.
This promptly backfires as both Karhide, the oppressive kingdom and Orgoreyn, the equally oppressive
socialist state, send him away, seeing only a
loner whose sheer existence means potential trouble:
’Fear you?’ said the king, turning his
shadow-scarred face, grinning, speaking loud and high. ‘But I do fear you,
Envoy. I fear those who sent you. I fear liars, and I fear tricksters, and
worst I fear the bitter truth. And so I rule my country well. Because only fear
rules men. Nothing else lasts long enough. You are what you say you are, yet
you’re a joke, a hoax. […] Now take your traps and tricks and go, there’s no
more needs saying.’ (42).
On a long,
long journey that is strenuous both for the narrators and the reader, Ai and Estraven form a deep friendship as both outcasts are exposed to extreme weather
conditions – freezing tears included. The reader learns a lot of folklore and backstories in between their narration.
The Left Hand of Darkness is a novel mostly worth reading for
its musings on the nature of man and alien. When Ai reflects on the nature of the Gethenians, he likens them to mammals in their inability to make war. Karhide and Orgoreyn are in a Cold War – literally, as the icy weather is more threatening than their puny
disputes. Later on, however, an armed conflict between Karhide and Orgoreyn
seems inevitable – all signs point to disaster as the malintent Tibe, cousin of
the king of Karhide wants to invade a disputed piece of land. He starts utilizing
the radio for his nationalist propaganda speeches, reminiscent of the use of
the Volksempfänger in Nazi Germany.
The style
is, fittingly, quite blunt and straightforward, and both Ai’s and Estraven’s
reports are somewhat similar as they are both outcasts. They, especially
Estraven, use a lot of strange sounding names, evoking a feeling of otherness
on this weird planet in the reader, the most prominent probably being shifgrethor. Shifgrethor is something that can be “played”, and it basically is
a form of courteous conversation but at the same time a way of challenging the
conversationalist’s pride, a kind of rhetorical competition.
The Left Hand of Darkness is an interesting novel, with a lot
of thought-provoking ideas, although it certainly has some tediously stretched
moments, especially the final journey at the end of the book, but otherwise, it
has aged fairly well. Le Guin’s style of writing is very plain and direct,
which prevents the story from shifting into a fantastic fairy tale in spite of
the absence of futuristic technology in a world (still) dominated by the forces
of nature.