There's also an interesting contrast in the things the two societies find shameful that shows up in Shevek's conversation with Oiie and his children. The Urrasti are squeamish about bodily waste and sex, for instance, but the Odonians are squeamish about propertarianism and government (the shameful and grotesque portrayal of propertarianism also shows up in their use of "illness" and "sickness" as metaphors for it). You see this attitude in Tirin's story, and in how Shevek won't even entertain Bedap's unsavory idea that Odonian society does rely, however unofficially, on authoritarian power dynamics. I think this is also part of why Shevek gives his overly simplistic explanation of his society to Oiie's children. He himself seems to have retained a childlike, almost puritanical idealism about how the Odonian society should function. He continues to deny even to himself that a society of any size and complexity does seem to give rise to hierarchies and disparate power distributions.
1) I posted in the chat thread but will do so here that reading about the groupthink ostracization you mention towards the end here on the same day I read Socrates' apology was illuminating insofar as this has been a longstanding concern of philosophers concerned with the social order.
2) One interesting thing that stuck out to me was the varying degrees of "patriotism." Between the countries on Urras; between Urras and Annares; and between Cetians and the Terrans & Hainish. I like how as you mentioned Atro talks about Cetian "superiority" but also reveals a bit of an inferiority complex, just wanting to be seen as *at least* an equal.
3) Finally, you mention a weakness in Shevek's responses to certain questions but I sort of find that to be a strength. From the narrative standpoint, it helps keep the book as informative and philosophically intriguing without being overly didactic. As a character trait, it aids in the paradoxical nature Shevek's mental state, and might indicate that, despite being a committed revolutionary, he can't necessarily explain everything, hasn't thought it all the way through, on so doing might come to question it, or is in some other such way just uncritically parroting Odonian principles. The even chapters are more obviously the "bildungsroman" but the odd chapters show that he's clearly still developing in late adulthood.
I really liked the contrast of issues of education between the two different planets. On Annares, progress is silenced by the opinion of the majority. On Urras, I believe that progress is poisoned by two things: 1) Knowledge is not sought after for the sake of knowledge, but as a means to an end. 2) Progress its self loses meaning (Shevek feels like all the work he had done was nothing of importance)
The problems on Urras that are highlighted really resonate with me as a student, for obvious reasons. I love to learn about philosophy, but my mind is constantly polluted with how I can USE this knowledge to earn money. I don't just want to use my knowledge to make money, or just for the sake of progress. I want to contribute meaningfully, not just contribute to contribute.
the interesting question is, are both types of oppression the same? in moral or ethical views, is the progress of thought as important as the stability of a human society, in the case of Anarres or as important as power in the case of A Io.
It makes me thing about Operation Paperclip, for example.
I think this is an interesting question, because it assumes that progress of thought inherently puts the stability of a human society at risk. I would argue that progress of thought can both stabilize and destabilize society depending on reception and implementation.
I agree with you, but the thing is that progress inherently carries risk, and society's tend to be risk averse. Anarres fears the loss of it's seemingly egalitarian society and A Io fears some other state wielding such power.
I haven't read chapter 6 yet, but chapters 4 and 5 are a pair. Compare Oiie's family life with Shevek's, or with any other Anarresti family. If on Anarres there is a family like Oiie's, I've missed it. I am under the impression children are raised in clutches and some are visited by parents and others aren't. Is "family" one of those words that never made it over to Pravic from Iota?
For me Shevek meeting his mother is the most powerful passage in the book so far. Regret fills both their minds, and I wonder if, without le Guin ever saying it outright, lack of family and family ties are the biggest differences between Urrasti and Anarresti? I hope he gets to spend some time with his mother.
I said earlier melancholy surrounds Shevek and follows him wherever he goes. Does he ever laugh? He strikes me as a profoundly unhappy person. Do any Odonians laugh? Are they happy? How do they learn to form intimate bonds if there is no family nuclear unit? Is any Odonian intimately close to another Odonian? Shevek suggests it's himself that is the problem, but I don't know about that. I don't see anyone with close friends. Everyone is like an acquaintance at most -- genitals bumping in the night. I wonder why no one in the Oiie family asks about family during Shevek's explanation of Anarresti society?
Everyone on Anarres is equal or so they say, but there are people who are more influential than others, and that influence translates into power over the less influential. Sabul is a good example. He's using/abusing Shevek, and he can because of who he is. And if Shevek gave him too much grief he could destroy him and his career. And then there are the perks the scientists get, and for all I know all the residents of Abbenay get, like daily desserts. So, I guess everyone is equal but some people are more equal than others. (Sorry, but I had to do it.)
And Urras is no paradise either. Well for some, it's paradise. Governments are powerful and curtail individual rights. Anarres has no government, so people are free, but maybe not so free as a first glance might indicate. There is the influence of the influential and the peer pressure that forces most Anarrestis to conform. Maybe the difference is more the difference between De Jure and De facto than anything else.
And Urras? There is the conspicuous consumerism that makes Shevek sick. I admit to liking my toys, so I'm not conspicuous consumerism's biggest enemy. I've gotten quite comfortable dabbling in its wares. I would not make a good Anarresti; I do make a good Urrasti.
But then the Odonians of Anarres seem to have too little, nothing beyond essentials. Quite the contrast. And those supplies Anarres gets from Urras, that Anarrestis hate? Perhaps they need them more than those who are in the know let on. Just maybe they need those electronics, those fine machinery parts, and those plants to survive.
There isn't as much to say about Urasti that's revealing because I already know what Urras is like: I live there. Tell me something I don't know about Urrasti.
I don't know about 'family', but it seems like children can be kept by parents as a form of bonding, but that this doesn't always happen (and that eventually every child moves to a dormitory). Parents visit, if they want and are able. We should keep an eye out on how the relationship with his mother is explored.
Odonians laugh and are happy! The party scenes with his friends are the best examples.
Been loving the book an reading the comments, first time commenting. I find it kind of bewildering that no one has mentioned the real world parallels of A-Io and Thu, USA and the URSS. A capitalist paradise that opresses the poor for the enrichment of a few, and a always vigilant central state that is above every individual citizen. I think it's very fun that Shevek considered A Io the better option for trying to approach the people of Urras, there is a profound hatred of powerful governments in anarchist thought, and the profeterian society of A Io creates the illusion of being more flexible when in reality, which Shevek will come to understand soon enough, I'm pretty sure, the estate of A Io is just as controlling and ruthless as Thu's.
Oiie is the typical example of the conforming petit burgess, he's empathic and can understand that women are men's equals, but is too comfortable in his position of wealth to shake things up.
The thing I found especially smart of Le Guin's setting is Anarres being a barren place. This provides anarchistic ideals to flourish and shine in contrast to the propretarians and statesmen. But leaves the question, can humans build a anarchist utopia in a planet that has innequality built in itself, just like Earth, some lands are objectively more suited for life than others.
I hope we get time to explore Thu, but I kinda feel that we're not going to. Personally I find the dialogue between socialism and anarchism to be far more nuance and interesting than with capitalism.
I think the fact that no one raised the analogs for A-Io and Thu is because it's an assumed baseline. That's the case with me, at least.
I particularly liked the part at Oiie's house and read the contrast between his public and private postures as more than accommodation but rather social conforming (a nice parallel to Tirin who got banned on Anarres and a continuation of the invisible censure argument).
One of the interesting aspects of Oiie's home you pointed out, which links back to Shevek's understanding of connection (through pain), is the good-enough-comfort levels and the resulting inertia to "shaking things up" as you say. In "The Dispossessed" speak, this is the threat that comfort represents to revolution, and by Bedap's own reasoning the needed constant revolution that's integral to Odonian principals. We see this in Anarres conformity to stability, and especially in Abbenay's excesses, in Thu's rigid centralist mentality (USSR) and Oiie's conformity.
I'm still getting my thoughts straight, and will hold until the end of the book to let the ideas crystalize, but to me this reads a lot like two inseparable struggles: the individual self determination in a society and the needs of a society to be functional and fair.
These are my two cents so far, really liking the book.
Thank you for replying, I hope it is the case with everyone else but I believe it's important to put in words so we can further the discussion or for that people that do not believe that to comment it.
And I agree with you, and really like the term "inertia" for what being economically does to someone. I think Bedap's reasoning will be very relevant as we find out how Shevek's travel came to be.
Somewhat off-topic and thinking out loud here, so my apologies. I have been reading a lot of non-fiction in English that I get a lot of enjoyment from. What I have noticed is that whenever I read fiction in English, while I appreciate the ideas being communicated by the author, I fail to gain an aesthetic experience from it. With this book, I can appreciate that the prose is quite poetic at times, but it fails to light something up inside me. This is clearly a very different experience from Jared, who appreciates this literary work greatly. Interestingly, it is not just The Dispossessed. I had the same experience with most other works of fiction by English or American authors that I have read in the past. With Russian being my primary language, I get an almost mystical experience when reading Dostoevsky, Shevchenko, or Tolstoy (in Russian or Ukrainian, of course). One could say that this is happening not due to the fact that I am reading these books in my mother tongue, but due to Dostoevsky and Tolstoy being in a league of their own. But I also get the same sort of enjoyment when reading less-known authors such as Vassili Grossman and his Life and Fate: it has arguably much less poetic prose, but, once again, the aesthetic experience was near mystical. I have never thought about this, but perhaps to fully appreciate fiction in all of its aesthetic glory, one has to share the culture and the language of the author. Was wondering if anyone here has shared my experience when reading fiction in their native versus second language. Again, apologies for the off-topic post.
Even though my first language is Chinese, I love English-language literature, especially poetry. But my background is perhaps unique. I was born and grew up in Hong Kong, a former British colony. As a result, I started learning English at a very young age. I also love literary works from all languages; in translation, of course. I have read all the major novels of Dostoevsky and Tolstoy; and I love them. Chekhov, in particular, has had quite a bit of influence on my writing (during those times when I try to write seriously). It is true that whenever I read Chinese literature, I get a sense of warmth and familiarity that I am rarely able to get when I read literature in English; but then no writer can take the place of Wallace Stevens or T. S. Eliot in my heart.
Valeriy, have you tried reading some good English-language poets and see if they can win your heart?
I have and, unfortunately, the effect is similar: I sort of understand the beauty of the English language poetry but it is not the same as when I read Pushkin, Lermontov or Shevchenko. Perhaps, I just haven't read enough of English language poetry and fiction to acquire a taste for it, not unlike listening to Mahler: initially it did nothing for me and sounded chaotic but after repeat listening I started to deeply appreciate the emotional richness of his work.
I like that in the beginning of the fourth chapter and throughout Shevek has to deal with this sense of solitude and understanding solitude, and he doesn't really know quite what to do with this feeling because he's always been kept busy in some way or another and he seems to feel a little bit of anxiety or I'm reading some anxiety in the way he's dealing with solitude, which reminds me a little bit of our recent time with covid, where I think myself and a lot of people felt this anxiety of having to do nothing even if you wanted to do anything.
In chapter 5 I really thought something was going to happen regarding Chifoilisk and Oiie when they both were so openly talking about the government in a negative light. It felt like they were both trying to coerce any information about Sheveks scientific research out of him for there own personal governments gain. I thought it was going to progress in chapter six, but then we really see this turnaround for Shevek. He is boarding on suicide, and then is pulled out of it by human connection, friendship, and eventually a partner, which I think is Le Guins intent here to show the power of human connection. I'd like to see this new social group now push back a bit on the governmental powers at be.
One other thing I'd like to note, I thought that in chapter four, there was a little bit of an Oedipus complex between Shevek and his mom. However, I don't know if it could quite be considered an Oedipus complex given the structure of their society, so I'd like to hear what you guys think about that.
There's also an interesting contrast in the things the two societies find shameful that shows up in Shevek's conversation with Oiie and his children. The Urrasti are squeamish about bodily waste and sex, for instance, but the Odonians are squeamish about propertarianism and government (the shameful and grotesque portrayal of propertarianism also shows up in their use of "illness" and "sickness" as metaphors for it). You see this attitude in Tirin's story, and in how Shevek won't even entertain Bedap's unsavory idea that Odonian society does rely, however unofficially, on authoritarian power dynamics. I think this is also part of why Shevek gives his overly simplistic explanation of his society to Oiie's children. He himself seems to have retained a childlike, almost puritanical idealism about how the Odonian society should function. He continues to deny even to himself that a society of any size and complexity does seem to give rise to hierarchies and disparate power distributions.
1) I posted in the chat thread but will do so here that reading about the groupthink ostracization you mention towards the end here on the same day I read Socrates' apology was illuminating insofar as this has been a longstanding concern of philosophers concerned with the social order.
2) One interesting thing that stuck out to me was the varying degrees of "patriotism." Between the countries on Urras; between Urras and Annares; and between Cetians and the Terrans & Hainish. I like how as you mentioned Atro talks about Cetian "superiority" but also reveals a bit of an inferiority complex, just wanting to be seen as *at least* an equal.
3) Finally, you mention a weakness in Shevek's responses to certain questions but I sort of find that to be a strength. From the narrative standpoint, it helps keep the book as informative and philosophically intriguing without being overly didactic. As a character trait, it aids in the paradoxical nature Shevek's mental state, and might indicate that, despite being a committed revolutionary, he can't necessarily explain everything, hasn't thought it all the way through, on so doing might come to question it, or is in some other such way just uncritically parroting Odonian principles. The even chapters are more obviously the "bildungsroman" but the odd chapters show that he's clearly still developing in late adulthood.
I really liked the contrast of issues of education between the two different planets. On Annares, progress is silenced by the opinion of the majority. On Urras, I believe that progress is poisoned by two things: 1) Knowledge is not sought after for the sake of knowledge, but as a means to an end. 2) Progress its self loses meaning (Shevek feels like all the work he had done was nothing of importance)
The problems on Urras that are highlighted really resonate with me as a student, for obvious reasons. I love to learn about philosophy, but my mind is constantly polluted with how I can USE this knowledge to earn money. I don't just want to use my knowledge to make money, or just for the sake of progress. I want to contribute meaningfully, not just contribute to contribute.
the interesting question is, are both types of oppression the same? in moral or ethical views, is the progress of thought as important as the stability of a human society, in the case of Anarres or as important as power in the case of A Io.
It makes me thing about Operation Paperclip, for example.
I think this is an interesting question, because it assumes that progress of thought inherently puts the stability of a human society at risk. I would argue that progress of thought can both stabilize and destabilize society depending on reception and implementation.
I agree with you, but the thing is that progress inherently carries risk, and society's tend to be risk averse. Anarres fears the loss of it's seemingly egalitarian society and A Io fears some other state wielding such power.
For example USA's policy around nuclear weapons.
I haven't read chapter 6 yet, but chapters 4 and 5 are a pair. Compare Oiie's family life with Shevek's, or with any other Anarresti family. If on Anarres there is a family like Oiie's, I've missed it. I am under the impression children are raised in clutches and some are visited by parents and others aren't. Is "family" one of those words that never made it over to Pravic from Iota?
For me Shevek meeting his mother is the most powerful passage in the book so far. Regret fills both their minds, and I wonder if, without le Guin ever saying it outright, lack of family and family ties are the biggest differences between Urrasti and Anarresti? I hope he gets to spend some time with his mother.
I said earlier melancholy surrounds Shevek and follows him wherever he goes. Does he ever laugh? He strikes me as a profoundly unhappy person. Do any Odonians laugh? Are they happy? How do they learn to form intimate bonds if there is no family nuclear unit? Is any Odonian intimately close to another Odonian? Shevek suggests it's himself that is the problem, but I don't know about that. I don't see anyone with close friends. Everyone is like an acquaintance at most -- genitals bumping in the night. I wonder why no one in the Oiie family asks about family during Shevek's explanation of Anarresti society?
Everyone on Anarres is equal or so they say, but there are people who are more influential than others, and that influence translates into power over the less influential. Sabul is a good example. He's using/abusing Shevek, and he can because of who he is. And if Shevek gave him too much grief he could destroy him and his career. And then there are the perks the scientists get, and for all I know all the residents of Abbenay get, like daily desserts. So, I guess everyone is equal but some people are more equal than others. (Sorry, but I had to do it.)
And Urras is no paradise either. Well for some, it's paradise. Governments are powerful and curtail individual rights. Anarres has no government, so people are free, but maybe not so free as a first glance might indicate. There is the influence of the influential and the peer pressure that forces most Anarrestis to conform. Maybe the difference is more the difference between De Jure and De facto than anything else.
And Urras? There is the conspicuous consumerism that makes Shevek sick. I admit to liking my toys, so I'm not conspicuous consumerism's biggest enemy. I've gotten quite comfortable dabbling in its wares. I would not make a good Anarresti; I do make a good Urrasti.
But then the Odonians of Anarres seem to have too little, nothing beyond essentials. Quite the contrast. And those supplies Anarres gets from Urras, that Anarrestis hate? Perhaps they need them more than those who are in the know let on. Just maybe they need those electronics, those fine machinery parts, and those plants to survive.
There isn't as much to say about Urasti that's revealing because I already know what Urras is like: I live there. Tell me something I don't know about Urrasti.
I don't know about 'family', but it seems like children can be kept by parents as a form of bonding, but that this doesn't always happen (and that eventually every child moves to a dormitory). Parents visit, if they want and are able. We should keep an eye out on how the relationship with his mother is explored.
Odonians laugh and are happy! The party scenes with his friends are the best examples.
Been loving the book an reading the comments, first time commenting. I find it kind of bewildering that no one has mentioned the real world parallels of A-Io and Thu, USA and the URSS. A capitalist paradise that opresses the poor for the enrichment of a few, and a always vigilant central state that is above every individual citizen. I think it's very fun that Shevek considered A Io the better option for trying to approach the people of Urras, there is a profound hatred of powerful governments in anarchist thought, and the profeterian society of A Io creates the illusion of being more flexible when in reality, which Shevek will come to understand soon enough, I'm pretty sure, the estate of A Io is just as controlling and ruthless as Thu's.
Oiie is the typical example of the conforming petit burgess, he's empathic and can understand that women are men's equals, but is too comfortable in his position of wealth to shake things up.
The thing I found especially smart of Le Guin's setting is Anarres being a barren place. This provides anarchistic ideals to flourish and shine in contrast to the propretarians and statesmen. But leaves the question, can humans build a anarchist utopia in a planet that has innequality built in itself, just like Earth, some lands are objectively more suited for life than others.
I hope we get time to explore Thu, but I kinda feel that we're not going to. Personally I find the dialogue between socialism and anarchism to be far more nuance and interesting than with capitalism.
Please excuse the bad english and the yapping.
I think the fact that no one raised the analogs for A-Io and Thu is because it's an assumed baseline. That's the case with me, at least.
I particularly liked the part at Oiie's house and read the contrast between his public and private postures as more than accommodation but rather social conforming (a nice parallel to Tirin who got banned on Anarres and a continuation of the invisible censure argument).
One of the interesting aspects of Oiie's home you pointed out, which links back to Shevek's understanding of connection (through pain), is the good-enough-comfort levels and the resulting inertia to "shaking things up" as you say. In "The Dispossessed" speak, this is the threat that comfort represents to revolution, and by Bedap's own reasoning the needed constant revolution that's integral to Odonian principals. We see this in Anarres conformity to stability, and especially in Abbenay's excesses, in Thu's rigid centralist mentality (USSR) and Oiie's conformity.
I'm still getting my thoughts straight, and will hold until the end of the book to let the ideas crystalize, but to me this reads a lot like two inseparable struggles: the individual self determination in a society and the needs of a society to be functional and fair.
These are my two cents so far, really liking the book.
Thank you for replying, I hope it is the case with everyone else but I believe it's important to put in words so we can further the discussion or for that people that do not believe that to comment it.
And I agree with you, and really like the term "inertia" for what being economically does to someone. I think Bedap's reasoning will be very relevant as we find out how Shevek's travel came to be.
Nicely said Andrés!
Somewhat off-topic and thinking out loud here, so my apologies. I have been reading a lot of non-fiction in English that I get a lot of enjoyment from. What I have noticed is that whenever I read fiction in English, while I appreciate the ideas being communicated by the author, I fail to gain an aesthetic experience from it. With this book, I can appreciate that the prose is quite poetic at times, but it fails to light something up inside me. This is clearly a very different experience from Jared, who appreciates this literary work greatly. Interestingly, it is not just The Dispossessed. I had the same experience with most other works of fiction by English or American authors that I have read in the past. With Russian being my primary language, I get an almost mystical experience when reading Dostoevsky, Shevchenko, or Tolstoy (in Russian or Ukrainian, of course). One could say that this is happening not due to the fact that I am reading these books in my mother tongue, but due to Dostoevsky and Tolstoy being in a league of their own. But I also get the same sort of enjoyment when reading less-known authors such as Vassili Grossman and his Life and Fate: it has arguably much less poetic prose, but, once again, the aesthetic experience was near mystical. I have never thought about this, but perhaps to fully appreciate fiction in all of its aesthetic glory, one has to share the culture and the language of the author. Was wondering if anyone here has shared my experience when reading fiction in their native versus second language. Again, apologies for the off-topic post.
Even though my first language is Chinese, I love English-language literature, especially poetry. But my background is perhaps unique. I was born and grew up in Hong Kong, a former British colony. As a result, I started learning English at a very young age. I also love literary works from all languages; in translation, of course. I have read all the major novels of Dostoevsky and Tolstoy; and I love them. Chekhov, in particular, has had quite a bit of influence on my writing (during those times when I try to write seriously). It is true that whenever I read Chinese literature, I get a sense of warmth and familiarity that I am rarely able to get when I read literature in English; but then no writer can take the place of Wallace Stevens or T. S. Eliot in my heart.
Valeriy, have you tried reading some good English-language poets and see if they can win your heart?
I have and, unfortunately, the effect is similar: I sort of understand the beauty of the English language poetry but it is not the same as when I read Pushkin, Lermontov or Shevchenko. Perhaps, I just haven't read enough of English language poetry and fiction to acquire a taste for it, not unlike listening to Mahler: initially it did nothing for me and sounded chaotic but after repeat listening I started to deeply appreciate the emotional richness of his work.
I like that in the beginning of the fourth chapter and throughout Shevek has to deal with this sense of solitude and understanding solitude, and he doesn't really know quite what to do with this feeling because he's always been kept busy in some way or another and he seems to feel a little bit of anxiety or I'm reading some anxiety in the way he's dealing with solitude, which reminds me a little bit of our recent time with covid, where I think myself and a lot of people felt this anxiety of having to do nothing even if you wanted to do anything.
In chapter 5 I really thought something was going to happen regarding Chifoilisk and Oiie when they both were so openly talking about the government in a negative light. It felt like they were both trying to coerce any information about Sheveks scientific research out of him for there own personal governments gain. I thought it was going to progress in chapter six, but then we really see this turnaround for Shevek. He is boarding on suicide, and then is pulled out of it by human connection, friendship, and eventually a partner, which I think is Le Guins intent here to show the power of human connection. I'd like to see this new social group now push back a bit on the governmental powers at be.
One other thing I'd like to note, I thought that in chapter four, there was a little bit of an Oedipus complex between Shevek and his mom. However, I don't know if it could quite be considered an Oedipus complex given the structure of their society, so I'd like to hear what you guys think about that.