On
Tuesday, I nerded out to my undergraduate Worldbuilding Workshop about how The Dispossessed changed my life—from my
thoughts on anarchism to gender to love. A few hours later, I read the New York
Times article about the passing of Ursula K. Le Guin at the age of 88. I’ve
never been one to feel sad over the passing of people I didn’t personally know,
so when I came home and started chatting with writer friends about Le Guin’s
work, the melancholic feeling surprised me. I wanted to write about it. So many
others have better and more words to devote to one of the greatest contemporary
writers, but I am grateful to Ursula K. Le Guin because she gave me hope and freedom
and fresh eyes.
I
came to Le Guin’s work late compared to many. The video of her acceptance
speech for the National Book Foundation’s Medal for Distinguished Contribution
to American Letters was the first time I truly encountered her. A senior in
college feeling insecure about writing fantasy, I felt grateful she acknowledged
the honor but also acknowledged how genre writers had been slighted for so long:
“I rejoice in accepting it and sharing it with all the writers who were
excluded from literature for so long . . . who for the last fifty years watched
the beautiful awards go to the so-called ‘realists.’”
A
few years later, I entered an MFA program populated by folks whose idea of
engaging with speculative fiction was trying to comprehend Harry Potter. I was also newly married, and my husband had six or
seven of Le Guin’s books. Discouraged, again, about writing science fiction and
fantasy, I started reading The Left Hand
of Darkness, which shattered what I thought a science fiction novel could
be, how gender could be portrayed, how an invented world could shape my
worldview. More importantly, it changed how I encountered gender on a daily basis—one
of the most empathy-producing moments in my life to date. As I closed the
covers and promptly fell into a book hangover, I couldn’t understand why none
of my professors had taught Le Guin or pushed one of her books into my hands. Yes,
folks had suggested her, but one book deep into her work, and I’d found a
complex thinker, writer, reader, teacher all rolled into one.
In
a few weeks, I start co-teaching an undergraduate seminar on Le Guin’s work. We
will focus on
The Dispossessed, a
book about utopia and anarchism, and
are already channeling our inner-Ursula by requesting students avoid buying
their books from Amazon or other large retailers. I don’t know if any will
listen. My co-teacher and I both read The
Dispossessed this past year, when it could not feel more timely. Each page,
I thought yes, this, this, thank you for putting words to this.
I
am grateful to Ursula K. Le Guin because
she changed me. I only met her on the page, but I encountered a spirit I wanted
to know. While her intelligence and thoughtfulness come clearly through each paragraph,
it’s her ability to question her mindset and beliefs I hope to continue
emulating even as her books continue to change me.