The Birthday of the World and Other Stories by Ursula K. Le Guin

I really wanted to start this review off by saying, 'The Birthday of the World and Other Stories is all about sex.'  In the broadest sense it's still true to say as much but it is equally inaccurate to say as the word sex can mean so many things.  So… The Birthday of the World and Other Stories is mostly all about sex.  Now, I'll try to clarify and define a word that has such great surface level transparency.    

Many of the stories in this collection read like narrative anthropological studies written by one not from the society being discussed.  The stories involve unique interactions between men and women and are usually observed by a foreigner. 

The strangest concept for me to wrap my head around was 'sedoretu' a marriage involving four people: one pair of men and one of women, where homo and heterosexual relationships are the norm.  The rules that govern these marriages as laid out in 'Unchosen Love' and 'Mountain Ways' were far more difficult to understand than the pairing of men and women.  Ultimately the concept was so well developed as to detract from the stories being told.  Who can have sex with whom and why, when, and why one person of the four will always be left out from having sex with one other weren't as interesting to me as the narrative that could have been told.  Perhaps as the concept is so foreign Le Guin wanted to be sure to establish clarity.  If so she succeeded, only at the expense of the narrative.  At times these two stories felt like reading rules or law more than a story.  

'Coming of Age in Karhide' was about the first sexual experience of a hermaphroditic person or perhaps 'gender neutral' is more accurate seeing as those on Karhide can choose and morph gender.  This story in particular presented it's ideas with no judging or favoritism.  It was fascinating and addicting in a sensual way that was very hard to describe as I can't exactly say what I was attracted to.  

The title story was nothing spectacular or original, but it had all the good familiar elements and was done extremely well.  A very primitive people on a very sheltered planet believe that God is a man and a woman; brother and sister and that only their hereditary line can perpetuate the lineage of God.  Such a belief is fraught with difficulties particularly when generations have passed and God has trouble reproducing.  A new God is crowned when outsiders arrive at the same time a usurper from within claims to be God.  This story was fun to read and very well done but not the highlight of the collection and probably the least in terms of dealing with sex.

'The Matter of Seggri' isn't merely a good story or the primary reason to buy this book; it's the kind of story that gets you thinking, makes you pause in your reading and leads you to ask questions not only about a fictional world and it's rules that Le Guin has created, but it also makes you do the same about our world that we live in.  

There is a complete segregation of the sexes on Seggri and a very large gender imbalance that heavily favors women.  Boys, being so rare, are prized family jewels until the age of eleven when they are sent off to live in the men's only citadels.  There, they further their status as trophies and seek glory in a dangerous and often gory sport, learn to become phenomenal dancers, and most importantly how to take care of bedroom matters.  Concepts as these are what makes men men on Seggri.  Women do everything else: anything that could be construed as work, business, or an enterprise beyond entertainment is solely relegated for women.  Men remain uneducated and ignorant of everything; they are prizes who develop a reputation and are sold nightly to women who have saved long, hard-earned money for a night of pleasure, or to conceive a child.  

Homosexuality is normal on Seggri in large part due to the seclusion of the men.  While it is seen as normal among the women and usually leads to marriage there are factions for and against it among the men even if both sides practice it.  It's the presentation of this story that makes it work as well as it does: the view from multiple outsiders trying to understand a bizarre foreign culture.  There are multiple reports about life on Seggri in this story; each gives enough to develop its' idea and collectively they paint a broad, detailed picture that indulges the imagination in the most realistic of ways.  Le Guin could set many a story or novel on Seggri.  This is not a happy story.  It's brutal, blunt and lacking anything that resembles sentiment.  It's disturbing and that is why it works.  

This collection isn't all about sex.  It's about gender, identity, and what intercourse means to an individual or to a society.  Not all the stories hit the mark (the closing story 'Paradises Lost' felt particularly cumbersome) but there are a few of those rare wonderful stories--of any length--that make you want to run out and tell people about what you're reading.  Those are the ones I've talked about here.  Now go read them for yourself and see why I feel as I do.   

The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin

This is a book of 'ism's: capitalism, socialism, sexism, anarchism, egoism and all of the inherent goods and bads that go along with each. There is apparent allegory between the stories settings and factions with real world powers, civil unrest, and global conflict at the time of the book’s writing, but the strengths of the work can be appreciated far removed from their possible inspirations.

To call the book a work of science fiction will turn some readers off right away, and to the reader who is that shallow and closed minded I say they wouldn't enjoy the subtext anyways. Shevek is a physicist and quiet possibly the brightest of his time. He is a man made by the world he grew up on, Anarres. He seeks a larger community of scientist to push his intellect and expand the development of his field, and such a community can only be found on Urras. What Shevek finds, and what the book develops, is a culture clash that opens eyes to different perspectives and exposes what Shevek thought to be a perfect world to be as marred and flawed as any other.

Anarres, Shevek's world, is one of sharing: everyone works for one another. That shared pain is humanities' bond is Shevek’s defining ideal. There is no such concept as ownership or profit. (Possessive pronouns are foreign to this world. Even when it comes to things as children or ideas; which in turn made me think of many a Bible verses though religious themes are never explicitly explored.) Even Shevek, who has the aforementioned unique knack for physic, spends regular rotations working odd jobs ranging from janitorial to day labor; all for the state.

The people of Anarres see Shevek as a deviant when he expresses a wish to visit and study with the ‘profiteers’ on Urras. He, and his family by association, are made outcast of both thought and reality and deemed ‘egoist’ of the highest degree; the most depraved of insults on Anarres. Anarres prefers isolation as to avoid outside influence on their socialist state and aberrant thinking stands out. Yet it is only in Shevek's leaving Anarres that we see oddities in the system: hierarchies where there previously were none, and people in positions of power when all should be equal.

In his time spent abroad he is shown capitalism, in addition to being introduced to deception and abuse of his naivety. Shevek sees capitalism as a 'prison' that people can afford. It is Le Guin's presentation that yields such great credibility to the multitude of concepts she explores. There is only explanation of a thought or cultural quark when necessary and 'back-story' as to how things came to be is minimal to non-existent. Since the characters simply act as they do, and all involved treat what may seems a peculiar incident to the reader as the way things are, the reader willingly accepts many a foreign concept. Writers on Le Guin's level don’t seem to need to work as hard as others to suspend disbelief.

I would go so far as to say that world building is Le Guin’s strongest achievement in The Dispossessed; even greater than her social commentary. The level of education on Anarres, or the sexual freedom are easy to digest as no character is ever taken to task over such issues and made to explain a history of how things came to pass or why they live as they do. It’s just the way things are. Le Guin has been a genre writer for so long that perhaps the definition of world building has changed since The Dispossessed publication. The modern overwrought, back-story and history that seems to define world building today is completely absent here and it is that absence that lends strength and believability to the prose. I think it is more of Le Guin’s ‘literary’ merits which lean towards concision and active thought on the reader’s behalf that may keep the majority of modern genre fans away more so than the complex social dynamic she constructs.

How the many social issues manifest themselves in the plot is amazing. Shevek’s meeting of Vea, a beautiful married woman of Urras, is the culmination of opposite views. Vea’s beauty—and all she does to enhance it—forces Shevek to reconsider a popular saying, on Anarres, “Excess is excrement.” Yet it is Vea’s people that consider Shevek amoral even when it is she who suggest a tryst. Vea, and her ideas can perhaps best be summed up with, “Morality is a superstition; like religion. True human nature is to be selfish and to be able to admit it. I don't care about other people and don't want to.” Her willingness to look the other way, and views on the role of the individual and what is their expected contribution to society make for a powerful attraction of opposites with Shevek. And lest you think all matters of conflict are philosophical it is a sexual encounter between the two that, for me, not only drove all points home but also exposed the weaknesses in both their ideals and comes close to a colossal loss of identity for one of the two.

The reader is given a very limited view of the overall story as the chapters alternate between events on Anarres and Urras in addition to not flowing in sequential order. While it is temporarily jarring this approach makes the reader focus on what is given at the moment and any ‘gaps’ in the narrative are resolved in forthcoming pages, or a chapter previously read. The Dispossessed is the only book I can think of that makes a case for breaking strict chronological order.

While the people of Anarres and Urras are exposed to many things, little is learned. What the characters miss is perhaps to the readers gain. We are treated to an amazing story and a critical examination of the social differences that will remain pertinent as long as there is structure in the world we live in.