This book is my first dive into Ursula Le Guin, an author I've had on my to-read list for years. I picked this one more or less at random; I'd heard the title around so I figured I might as well start here. Atlhough the book has been out for a long time, I will keep this review spoiler-free for anyone, like me, who hasn't gotten around to reading it yet. The book description is:
A lone human ambassador is sent to the icebound planet of Gethen, a world without sexual prejudice, where the inhabitants’ gender is fluid. His goal is to facilitate Gethen’s inclusion in a growing intergalactic civilization. But to do so he must bridge the gulf between his own views and those of the strange, intriguing culture he encounters...
The uniqueness of the Gethens is this: They have a 26-day sexual cycle. For most of it, they exhibit no extent sex or gender identity, and experience no sexual desire. During the peak phase of the cycle ("kemmer"), they do begin to exhibit a sex and this is when intercourse and reproduction will happen. After the passing of kemmer, absent a pregnancy, they revert to their usual sexless/genderless state. The book refers to this as being "ambisex."
First, I think it's due to recall this book was published in
1969. There are obviously aspects about it that seem outdated now (there's no mention of transgender or intersex Earthlings for instance, or polysexuality), but the book would have been absolutely radical for its time and I still think it poses relevant questions. For most of conservative America, the book is just as radical now as it was then.
Le Guin I think does a very nice job of constructing a society around this idea--of ambisexuality--and how it would (and also how it would
not) impact the structure of their world. For instance, as noted in the description, discrimination based on sex does not exist on Gethen, because there are no hard-locked sexes (with the exception of some individuals, but that's another story). There are many instances in the novel of Gethens who have both sired and birthed children. However, at one point protagonist Genly considers why Gethen has no experience with large-scale warfare despite its relatively advanced society and while he initially believes the lack of persistent "maleness" in Gethen society is the cause, he fairly quickly discards that in favor of the idea that the simple harshness of Gethen's environment made warfare too costly an option for Gethens.
Genly struggles with persistent underlying distrust of a people whose gender he does not understand and continues trying to fit into his own preconceived notions (for instance, he defaults to he/him pronouns for all Gethens). Genly's inability to see the Gethens as truly agender interferes with his ability to communicate with and relate to them (the Gethens find Genly equally off-putting at times, often referring to him as a "pervert," for in their view, he is someone permanently in kemmer). Okay, a
minor spoiler--he does get over it. And that's what one of the central themes of the book is about--the relationship between two humans (the book refers to all humanoids as "human" whether Gethen or Earthling) who don't understand each other necessarily, but come to respect and accept each other nonetheless.
The Left Hand not only poses questions about the role of gender in society--and to what extent our own concepts and instincts about gender shape our interaction with the world--but also about the role of government, patriotism, and trust. The book fairly bluntly attacks the notion of nationalistic pride and the harm it causes, and how governments may manipulate such feelings of "patriotism" to fuel their own agendas.
In terms of world-building, I found myself very drawn in to Gethen. I loved the brief interludes of Gethen history or folklore, which served not only to give flavor to the world, but to foreshadow and give background to the main story. Le Guin shows us how the harsh, persistent winters on Gethen have shaped its society and creates a world both like and unlike our own. Ultimately, despite all the differences, people are people, and there is something deeply touching in the notion.
Reading
The Left Hand has made me eager to get ahold of more of Le Guin's books. I can only imagine what the experience of reading this book when it first came out in 1969 must have been like, but I can say that although the notions of gender presented here may seem passe to an audience familiar with queer theory and literature in 2023, I do still think the book poses interesting questions for our society as a whole, which is still very locked into the notion of binary genders, as well as perennially relevant remarks on nationalism. Also, it was just an interesting read!
High marks, I really enjoyed this one.
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