I always think of Shevek’s line “It was not only poor Vea who had betrayed him” as simply true. Love and sex are some of the most profound and intimate ways two people can know each other; to use them for advancement and manipulation, as Vea clearly does, is wrong. Even if sexual assault is the greater wrong, and even if it is one of the only forms of agency permitted to you.
Chapter Seven also includes my favourite dialogue in the entire novel, which is Shevek’s critique of Vea’s assertion that femininity is a true form of power on Urras, that allows women to live as they like. His simple critique of this as the mentality of a slave, who can only think of tricking the owners and of getting revenge, has always stayed with me. I often notice women talk about men in extremely flippant and cruel ways (think: ‘men are trash’) in a way I think is very much captured by this dynamic — a complete foreclosing on the possibility of an egalitarian society where women are respected as equals, so instead you settle for petty cruelty. Every time I reread The Dispossessed I am struck by how sophisticated a critique she makes in so few lines of dialogue!
A word caught my eye which I'll have to investigate on a re-reading, that of the fact that Shevek needs to find a way for "coexistence" between the sequency and simultaneity theories. Is he not also stuck between the lifestyles of Urras and Anarres, finding a way to "coexist" with the best parts of both? Is not the whole Odonian project an attempt to create the perfect "coexistence" of peoples - socially, economically, morally, otherwise? Don't propertarians think that trading is the ultimate form of "coexistence"?
I think all of this also relates back to the book's subtitle, "an ambiguous utopia" (and the showcasing of some pitfalls on the overly idealistic Anarres) meaning that absolutist positions cannot yield the best results and one must pull from various schools of thought.
I actually kind of hate that, because there is this irritating post-modern fallacy going around in our age that all opinions are created equal and "the truth is somewhere in the middle." It was also what gave me my first pause with Aristotle - what do you mean the mean is the best?! I'm simply a person that can't half-ass anything, I'm all in, so when Aristotle or Le Guin tell me to reel it in a bit, my instinct is to resist. Of course, that is what makes philosophical works so useful is allowing us to question and improve ourselves.
I was really struck in these chapters about Anarres' reaction to the drought. In the face of an event that threatens to end their humanity it seems that everything else is put on pause and everyone shifts their efforts and work to fighting to survive this drought. These are the chapters where the Division of Labor seems to be appear a a government-not-government. But I think its in these times of crises that some orchestrator must appear and coordinate the efforts of millions of people so everyone is doing the absolute most combat the drought. The reason this has stayed with me is because we're not even close to doing something similar in regards to climate change. In the face of something that could end humanity, and that is already having adverse consequences on our well being and environment, why shouldn't we stop everything and focus solely on this? Why are we, instead, actively doing things that continue to worsen our condition? Why is this is even the subject of the debate? I can agree that Anarres isn't perfect, no society is or ever will be, but at least its founded on solidarity between human beings and I see that as the reason why they can react in such a way to the drought as opposed to our reaction to climate change here on earth.
I read something the other day about being able to "see" or accept both good and evil simultaneously.
If, as I currently believe, the whole of the universe is connected, forming one interrelated organism, it would seem that one must retain an openess of thought. Since I have, in my opinionated past, held to certain absolutes, this is an uncomfortable concept. I ultimately rely on my personal experience of the spiritual. Something I cannot prove, but refuse to relinquish.
Your comment reminded me of a meditation class I went to recently where our guide described the process of integrating the good and bad aspects of the world within ourselves (and not just ignoring, repressing, and rejecting the bad) as “combining the shadows and the light in order to make more light.” Seems really relevant to how Le Guin doesn’t shy away from the darker aspects of human nature that come up again and again.
The way I read that scene was that Shevek’s assault of Vea was the epitome and culmination of his own self-betrayal. Only something of this magnitude—only seeing himself do something this terrible that he never imagined he’d be capable of—could wake him up to his true predicament. So while Le Guin doesn’t given us a window into more drawn-out remorse or an apology, I think the fact that Shevek’s response is to throw himself into the revolution at this point is her way of showing the extremity of his regret, and how catalytic this incident was for his character development and mission.
I always think of Shevek’s line “It was not only poor Vea who had betrayed him” as simply true. Love and sex are some of the most profound and intimate ways two people can know each other; to use them for advancement and manipulation, as Vea clearly does, is wrong. Even if sexual assault is the greater wrong, and even if it is one of the only forms of agency permitted to you.
Chapter Seven also includes my favourite dialogue in the entire novel, which is Shevek’s critique of Vea’s assertion that femininity is a true form of power on Urras, that allows women to live as they like. His simple critique of this as the mentality of a slave, who can only think of tricking the owners and of getting revenge, has always stayed with me. I often notice women talk about men in extremely flippant and cruel ways (think: ‘men are trash’) in a way I think is very much captured by this dynamic — a complete foreclosing on the possibility of an egalitarian society where women are respected as equals, so instead you settle for petty cruelty. Every time I reread The Dispossessed I am struck by how sophisticated a critique she makes in so few lines of dialogue!
A word caught my eye which I'll have to investigate on a re-reading, that of the fact that Shevek needs to find a way for "coexistence" between the sequency and simultaneity theories. Is he not also stuck between the lifestyles of Urras and Anarres, finding a way to "coexist" with the best parts of both? Is not the whole Odonian project an attempt to create the perfect "coexistence" of peoples - socially, economically, morally, otherwise? Don't propertarians think that trading is the ultimate form of "coexistence"?
I think all of this also relates back to the book's subtitle, "an ambiguous utopia" (and the showcasing of some pitfalls on the overly idealistic Anarres) meaning that absolutist positions cannot yield the best results and one must pull from various schools of thought.
I actually kind of hate that, because there is this irritating post-modern fallacy going around in our age that all opinions are created equal and "the truth is somewhere in the middle." It was also what gave me my first pause with Aristotle - what do you mean the mean is the best?! I'm simply a person that can't half-ass anything, I'm all in, so when Aristotle or Le Guin tell me to reel it in a bit, my instinct is to resist. Of course, that is what makes philosophical works so useful is allowing us to question and improve ourselves.
I was really struck in these chapters about Anarres' reaction to the drought. In the face of an event that threatens to end their humanity it seems that everything else is put on pause and everyone shifts their efforts and work to fighting to survive this drought. These are the chapters where the Division of Labor seems to be appear a a government-not-government. But I think its in these times of crises that some orchestrator must appear and coordinate the efforts of millions of people so everyone is doing the absolute most combat the drought. The reason this has stayed with me is because we're not even close to doing something similar in regards to climate change. In the face of something that could end humanity, and that is already having adverse consequences on our well being and environment, why shouldn't we stop everything and focus solely on this? Why are we, instead, actively doing things that continue to worsen our condition? Why is this is even the subject of the debate? I can agree that Anarres isn't perfect, no society is or ever will be, but at least its founded on solidarity between human beings and I see that as the reason why they can react in such a way to the drought as opposed to our reaction to climate change here on earth.
I read something the other day about being able to "see" or accept both good and evil simultaneously.
If, as I currently believe, the whole of the universe is connected, forming one interrelated organism, it would seem that one must retain an openess of thought. Since I have, in my opinionated past, held to certain absolutes, this is an uncomfortable concept. I ultimately rely on my personal experience of the spiritual. Something I cannot prove, but refuse to relinquish.
Your comment reminded me of a meditation class I went to recently where our guide described the process of integrating the good and bad aspects of the world within ourselves (and not just ignoring, repressing, and rejecting the bad) as “combining the shadows and the light in order to make more light.” Seems really relevant to how Le Guin doesn’t shy away from the darker aspects of human nature that come up again and again.
Hi. Unfortunately I had to work and missed the call. Was it recorded?
Yes. It’ll be sent out later this week in another post.
The way I read that scene was that Shevek’s assault of Vea was the epitome and culmination of his own self-betrayal. Only something of this magnitude—only seeing himself do something this terrible that he never imagined he’d be capable of—could wake him up to his true predicament. So while Le Guin doesn’t given us a window into more drawn-out remorse or an apology, I think the fact that Shevek’s response is to throw himself into the revolution at this point is her way of showing the extremity of his regret, and how catalytic this incident was for his character development and mission.