The Dispossessed

The first time I read this book back in the early nineties, I would have given it a four star rating because I was slightly annoyed with the prose and the steadily boring pace where nothing really big happens (mostly) except a general living of a life. This is despite our following a very interesting character escaping his pragmatic moon to gift his very advanced physics that would lead to not only an ansible for faster-than-light communications but also faster-than-light travel.

The world-building is pretty amazing on both the political and socio-economic levels, the discussion of what men and women are to each other and just how amazingly different (and similar) it is between both worlds. The novel easily tackles six different heavy show more themes and does it with heart and no hammer in sight.

On one hand, I know the author couldn't have tackled the whole gamut of two worlds without a very light touch, but it was this same light touch and frustrating lack of progress, the descent of the sense of utopia into desperate and dire dystopia, that eventually made me distrust this novel.

It frankly took me two hundred pages, the first time, to even get into the novel. It requires a learning curve.

Now that I'm reading this as a full adult with a lot of ideas under his belt, I eased into the read much more, expecting certain things and realizing it was primarily a novel of ideas and deep commentary. It's not just a political mirror or even a mirror between true communist idealism and anarchism. It's also a damn unique exploration of sexuality and how sexuality necessitates certain kinds of thinking, how a social structure informs it and how it can kill a real germination of ideas.

I'm talking about two halves making a whole here. Men and women are just a half of it. The two political makeups of the moon and the planet aren't whole until they finally find a mix. It's Taoism and a mix of opposites and equals creating something more than the sum of its parts.

And that's what is so tragic about this novel. There's distrust, revulsion against new thought, a nearly impossible wall between the sexes (and the obvious exception to that rule in this novel is noteworthy also because it occurs with the Dispossessed scientist). If people opened up their minds to new ideas, so much of this would have been avoided.

During my original take, I was going to college at the time and I saw a lot of the same approbations and stifled thought in the academic arena. The Dispossessed brings up the plight of ourselves in science, the fact that certain ideas get heavily entrenched and new ones are mercilessly cut down at least until a new generation takes over.

It all comes back to a germination of ideas. The call in the text to keep the flow of information going was really breathtaking, if not that unique. I think of the internet and how that has been such a boon to science now, but even in '92 when I read this, the weight of bureaucracy was immense. I'm sure things aren't all that different now. Aren't we still enamored with string theory and colliders and aren't we all getting rather upset that it hasn't been panning out as we would have liked? Well, alas, this isn't the forum for that but this book makes very good points all over the place.

I ramble.

The fact is, I'm increasing my rating on this book merely because it is gorgeous in conception and form. It carries on multiple narratives on so many aspects of our lives here and now and also within the fictional boundaries of political systems that don't exist anywhere except in our minds. She even goes on to conceive a world without cause and effect, where all things can and will be explored at the same time. How often can we have a cogent discussion about that, rooted firmly in the events of normal lives, and yet not have the text explode in handwavium and weird science? She keeps things real. And brilliant.

I'm going to ignore my stylistic complaints and even the fact that I couldn't really get into it for hundreds of pages because the trip is more than impressive by the end. It's more of a monument to thought. show less

Shevek, a physicist from the planet Anarres, desires to advance his theories (related to instantaneous communication across light-years of distance) and feels he cannot make further progress on his home planet. The people of Anarres were former residents of Urras that had rebelled against a centralized government, forming their own anarchist version of utopia on Anarres. Facing protests from those that believe he is a traitor, Shevek travels to Urras, a land called A-Io, where he is treated as a celebrity, tours the area, and discovers obstacles to the free propagation of his theories.

Anarres and Urras each consider the other its moon and they have an interrelated history, ironically governed by a treaty. Anarres is an anarchist show more collective while A-Io on Urras is an “archist propertarian” (capitalistic) society. Other flavors of government are represented by various characters from different territories of Urras. This is a dual timeline narrative that alternates between Shevek’s life story and his experiences on Urras.

In this book, Le Guin explores such topics as forms of government, individual freedoms, ecology, power, language, humility vs. egoism, and idealism vs. pragmatism. I think it is most successful as a platform for thinking through these philosophical concepts. It is less successful as an engrossing story. Most of the book is spent in world-building, showing what life is like on each planet. Shevek’s journey highlights the strengths and weaknesses inherent in the different ideologies. The plot and the characters, except for Shevek, are rather thin. It is certainly a thinking person’s book. It underscores the importance of knowing what should replace the methods we seek to change. Recommended to those that enjoy parsing advantages and disadvantages of different social systems. show less

Ursula K Le Guin believes in the intelligence of her readers. As such, I can always count on a challenge from her work. Here, she juxtaposes a "utopian" moon against the traditional classist planet its population left behind. Because humans will seek power even within a supposedly hierarchy-less society, the scientific hegemony has effectively gagged Shevek, our protagonist. In order to spread his ideas to where they will actually be utilized, he risks his life in traveling back to the misogynist, corrupt planet from whence his ancestors fled, breaking a generations-long embargo of silence. This is a deep exploration of political idealism, of academic censorship, and of the child-like concept of "the grass is greener on the other side." show more Le Guin provides no pat conclusions, allowing the reader to make his or her own. Or not, as the case may be. Some situations defy conclusions. show less

Magisterial, beautifully written, challenging and dense, yet also somehow approachable, welcoming, and warm. I have to imagine that this is Le Guin at the height of her powers, because it really can't get any better than this, right?

The Dispossessed follows Shevek, a politically active physicist who grew up on the planet Anarres. Anarres, a desolately dry planet akin in many ways to Mars, was settled several hundred years prior to Shevek's birth by anarchist refugees fleeing persecution and injustice on the neighboring planet Urras, whose multiple nation states are politically diverse but lean towards versions of capitalism. The comparison between life on Anarres and Urras is where Le Guin fixates her attention the most. Where as life show more on Anarres is lean and sometimes desperate, requiring an emphasis on mutual aid in order to survive, Urras is a planet of plenty, with massive oceans, forests, and other resources to exploit. As Shevek struggles to develop a new theory of physics and time, he discovers a wall of hidden bureaucracy and socially enforced rules that he didn't believe existed in his planned utopic society. Fighting against these stigmas, he more-or-less forces his way to Urras in the hopes of diversifying his intellectual knowledge base and finally finishing his theory on faster than light travel, while simultaneously breaking a moratorium on interplanetary travel. Shevek sacrifices comfort, safety, and stability in order to be a wall-breaker, and finds out firsthand just how difficult it is to be a revolutionary.

Science fiction often gets laden with the stereotype as a "genre of ideas", de-prioritizing characters and narrative in favor of scientific musings. The Dispossessed does fit that generalization, but in perhaps the best way possible. Le Guin is able to balance a metric fuck load of philosophy and political ideas with characters that I cared deeply about and a plot that, while sometimes dry, managed to keep me near the edge of my seat. Shevek's tender and nuanced relationship with Takver and his childhood friends are memorable and serve to humanize a work that could otherwise get bogged down with the weight of it's philosophical ambitions.

The Dispossessed could've also easily come out as a top-to-bottom polemic, but Le Guin's nuanced perspective allows the reader to develop their own conclusions. Even on the idealized Anarres, there are plenty of internal problems that threaten the personal freedom of it's citizens. We are left to ask which parts of both systems serve to benefit the individual, the stability and equity of society, the planet itself, and the progression of our sphere of knowledge. How can we find the strength and resolve for the revolution to be unending?

There is a distinct humanity to Le Guin's work that elevates it to a level often above her peers. Her prose is often sublime, even when she takes pauses for longer passages of exposition. This is the type of work that could easily be discussed for hours on end. Suffice it to say that it more than lived up to it's singular reputation. Even if you find yourself at odds with its occasionally dry intellectualism and narrative, I still think there's enough here to sink your teeth into. show less

Easily identifiable as a Le Guin work, this story is non-chronological and manages to fully realize two societies without providing detailed descriptions of every imaginable aspect of them. Instead, situations, events, beliefs, and paradigms shared by characters work to plunge the reader into alien cultures with the sort of 'instant immersion' method used in modern language studies. The tale follows Shevek, a brilliant physicist who has lived his life on an isolated moon colony with a group of dissidents, anarchists who lift their home planet several generations ago. As the novel opens he is leaving to return to the home planet (a place filled with profiteers and social classes) to complete his theory of Simultaneity, and to try to show more share cultures and unite two isolated worlds. As the novel remarks:

"He was alone, here, because he came from a self-exiled society. He had alwavs been alone on his own world because he had exiled himself from his society. The Settlers had taken one step away. He had taken two. He stood by himself, because he had taken the metaphysical risk.

And he had been fool enough to think that he might serve to bring together two worlds to which he did not belong."

Through Shevek's eyes the reader sees the advantages and disadvantages of a communal society and a capitalist society, the tendency of bureaucracy (and hierarchies) to creep into groups, the resolute way in which people blind themselves to the truth of the world around them, and the changes that immersion in a new culture, in the other, will bring. He goes forth, throughout his life, with empty hands, a stranger and a brother even as he completes a theory that will change all of the communicating Hainish worlds.

The novel's near perfect ending includes the poignant statement, "But he had not brought anything. His hands were empty, as they had always been."

Acute, poignant, world building and society building-- the novel does not preach or provide allegory. Rather it creates, without condoning or condemning the worlds or those who populate them. It leaves the reader not only lacking all of the answers, but feeling that they don't even have all of the questions. When it finished my chest ached, yet I wanted nothing changed about where or how the novel stopped. The tale is unapologetic, eloquent, and beautiful. show less

I read this for a sociology class, which definitely gave me an interesting way to appreciate the worlds Le Guin constructed. Perhaps I wouldn't have enjoyed it as much if I hadn't had that sociologist's viewpoint in mind as I read, but it is a great exploration of the thin line between utopia and dystopia. Neither of the worlds she creates (one anarchist, one capitalist) ends up being as perfect and functioning as they set out to be (no surprises there). But what I liked most was her exploration of the idea of appreciating creativity. Do anarchist "utopias" by necessity exclude the possibility for innovation and creativity, due to the strict adherence to equality that they must maintain? And do capitalist free markets ultimately show more necessitate the creation of a low bottom rung of society by lifting the creative innovators up so high? Compelling, if disillusioning thoughts. show less

After a second reading I can now see The Dispossessed isn’t as much a science fiction story as it is a thought experiment. Concepts and ideas that are fleshed out into characters, themes, and settings. The first time I read it I saw it as an overview of two worlds with widely different political systems and cultures, a comparison of the positives and negatives of each. But there's more to it than that - how does personal freedom fit into the picture? morals? property? family? - and I suspect the ‘more’ I see may not be the same ‘more’ as for everyone else. This has the quality that makes art art, the nebulous something that calls for interpretation and provides different meanings to different readers and also for each time show more it's read. show less