“At this point, realism is perhaps the least adequate means of understanding or portraying the incredible realities of our existence.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Language of the Night: Essays on Fantasy and Science Fiction
When I became aware of Ursula’s passing in January of 2018, I couldn’t help but feel immensely grateful that we had been given time with her at all; time with her uncompromising imagination and literary accomplishment – that she would go on molding minds with words.
Ursula K. LeGuin was born in Berkeley California on October 21, 1929, to Theodora and Alfred Kroeber. Her parents, one a writer and the other an anthropologist, encouraged all of their children to engage with art, philosophy, and culture – they were particularly fascinated with Native American communities, to whom her family became well known. The youngest of four children and the only daughter among them, Ursula spent much of her childhood reading science fiction and fantasy magazines with her brothers. Her fondness for storytelling from a young age ultimately led her to get her BA in French Renaissance and Italian Literature from Radcliffe College, and then an MA in French from Columbia University. While pursuing her Ph.D. in France, Ursula met her husband, Charles Le Guin; the marriage to whom marked the end of her doctoral studies. Ursula started publishing novels in the 1950s but the birth of her children greatly restricted the time she could dedicate to writing. Over the next 60 years, she would go on to publish countless novels, short stories, and essays that would influence the foundational ways we think about gender, culture, and genre in writing.
Ursula had a vast array of writing, but none affected me quite as deeply as her Earthsea series. It was the first time I had read fantasy and been truly in awe at the power of the genre; for fantasy had never before been my preferred flavor. Although it was originally intended for a younger readership, I hesitate to clump Earthsea in with the Young Adult Fantasy genre because I think it goes well beyond the confines of your typical coming-of-age story. Earthsea is about all the space in between childhood and adulthood – a place we are all so often caught. It does not shy away from discussions on death, morality, and identity; while also making these themes immensely accessible to her readership. It is difficult to fathom that she wrote A Wizard of Earthsea, the first of the series, in 1968, when it feels so relevant and contemporary in both conceptualization and tone. In reading this series you will discover the origins and influences for many of your beloved fantasy tropes done first – and frankly, done much better. It is a literary crime that Ursula K. Le Guin is not a household name, in the same way as Tolkein or C.S. Lewis, because I cannot think of anyone who has affected modern-day fantasy to a greater extent.
In an essay titled Introducing Myself, Ursula begins by claiming quite sardonically “I am a man.” It was originally written as a performance piece, highlighting the various ways in which to be a person – a respected and realized person in the world – one must be a man. She writes cheekily that “women are a very recent invention. I [Ursula K. Le Guin] predate the invention of women by decades.” Ursula was able to aptly turn a critical eye not only to the misogynistic tendencies of society but also to the internalized misogyny, that she herself endured being an “imitation man”. This was all during a period of time when there really were only men – their pronoun being synonymous with personhood. It would have been simply astonishing to have witnessed her perform this in its striking satirization and unflinchingly honesty. It was like much of Ursula’s work – unafraid to offend.
So many years ahead of her time, Ursula was forming questions about gender and selfhood – very publicly – on topics we are only beginning to see trickle into the mainstream consciousness. The Left Hand of Darkness was another of her gender-bending tales, exploring an alien civilization whose androgynous inhabitants can choose and change their gender. And although Earthsea primarily centered itself around the lives of men, her female characters are still – in my opinion – a fair way better developed than the vast majority of female characters in contemporary fantasy.
She will be remembered as a great influence to countless authors, readers, and essayists. Her writing did what good writing should – move and inspire. Her death marks the end of an era but she never seemed all that afraid of death to begin with. We should all consider ourselves lucky that her effortless narratives, acute aesthetics, and contemplative philosophy will live on in her work for many years to come.
“No darkness lasts forever. And even there, there are stars.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Farthest Shore
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