Ursula K Le Guin, Planet of Exile 1978 edition Preface

Ursula K Le Guin, Planet of Exile 1978 edition Preface

Preface (1978)
edit
[ 1 ] . Also included in the author's collection "The Language of the Night" in 1979. Translation: S. V. Silakov, edited by I. G. Gurova [ 2 ]

With curious regularity, all science fiction writers are asked the same question: "Where do you get your ideas from?" None of us knows what to say, and only Harlan Ellison says decisively: "From Schenectady !"
The question has become a running joke <…>. We know so little about the imagination that we are unable even to ask the right questions about it, much less give the right answers. The sources of creativity remain unattainable for the wisest psychologists, and the artist is often the last person who can say anything intelligible about the creative process. However, others have said little that is worthwhile. Perhaps the best place to do it is in Schenectady, with a book by Keats in hand.


All science fiction writers are asked, with wonderful regularity, "Where do you get your ideas from?" None of us knows what to answer, except Harlan Ellison, who replies crisply, "Schenectady!"
The question has become a joke <…>. We know so little about the imagination that we can't even ask the right questions about it, let alone give the right answers. The springs of creation remain unsounded by the wisest psychology; and an artist is often the last person to say anything comprehensive about the process of creation. Though nobody else has said very much that makes sense. I guess the best place to start is in Schenectady, reading Keats.


Planet of Exile was written in 1963-64, before feminism had recovered from its thirty-year paralysis. The book shows my early, “natural” (that is, self-created), unreflective, unconscious manner of dealing with male and female characters. At that time, I can say with a clear conscience and even to my credit, it was simply indifferent to me whether I was describing men or women, provided they were human beings. Why should a woman write only about women? I was uninhibited, felt no obligations, and therefore, confident in myself, calmly contented myself with tradition, without getting carried away by experiments.
At first the narrative is conducted through Rolerie’s perception, but then through Jacob, then through Wold, and switches back to Rolerie, only to change the angle again later; in other words, the book is written from different points of view. Men are much more active and express their thoughts more clearly. Rolerie, a young and inexperienced girl, brought up in the laws of a strictly traditional, male-dominated culture, does not fight with anyone, does not take the initiative in relationships with the opposite sex, does not claim a place of social leader - in a word, she does not take on any of those roles that, within the framework of her culture or in our world of the mid-sixties, would bear the label of "masculine". However, both in the social sense and in the sense of relationships with men, she is a rebel. Although her behavior is not aggressive, the desire for freedom leads Rolerie to a complete break with the norms of her culture: she is completely transformed, linking her fate with a person of a different consciousness. She chooses the Alien. This small individual rebellion, happening at a decisive moment, marks the beginning of events that lead to a global renewal and transformation of both cultures, both societies.
Jacob is a hero, active, clearly thinking, now a brave warrior, now a caring administrator; but the mainspring of the whole action of the story is in fact Rolery, because she makes the choice. I became acquainted with Taoism before I became acquainted with modern feminism. Where some see only a dominant Hero and a passive Fragile Woman, I saw, and still see, the fundamental sterility and vulnerability of aggression, on the one hand, and the inexhaustible power of "wu-wei", "action through inaction" , on the other.


Planet of Exile was written in 1963-4, before the reawakening of feminism from its thirty-year paralysis. The book exhibits my early, “natural” (ie happily acculturated), unawakened, un-con— sciousness-raised way of handling male and female characters. At that time, I could say with a perfectly clear conscience, indeed with self-congratulation, that I simply didn't care whether my characters were male or female, so long as they were human. Why on earth should a woman have to write only about women? I was unselfconscious, without sense of obligation: therefore self-confident, unexperimental, contentedly conventional.
The story starts with Rolery, but presently the point of view shifts off to Jakob and to Wold, and then back to Rolery, and off again: it's an alternating-viewpoints story. The men are more overtly active, and far more articulate. Rolery, a young and inexperienced woman of a rigidly traditional, male-supremacist culture, does not fight, or initiate sexual encounters, or become a leader of society, or assume any other role which, in her culture or ours of 1964, would be labeled "male." She is, however, a rebel, both socially and sexually. Although her behavior is not aggressive, her desire for freedom drives her to break right out of her culture-mold: she changes herself entirely by allying herself with an alien self. She chooses the Other. This small personal rebellion, coming at a crucial time, initiates events which lead to the complete changing and remaking of two cultures and societies.
Jakob is the hero, active, articulate, rushing about fighting bravely and governing busily; but the central mover of the events of the book, the one who chooses, is, in fact, Rolery. Taoism got to me earlier than modern feminism did. Where some see only a dominant Hero and a passive Little Woman, I saw, and still see, the essential wastefulness and futility of aggression and the profound effectiveness of wu wei, "action through stillness."


Must I sacrifice the ideals of truth and beauty in order to prove some ideological postulate?
And to this the radical feminist can answer: "Yes, I must." Although this answer often merges with the speeches of the Censor, dictated by fanaticism and despotic hypocrisy, this may not be the case: this is also said in the name of sincere service to the ideal itself. In order to build, one must destroy the old. The generation that is forced to destroy experiences only the pain of destruction, almost without knowing the joy of creation. The courage that does not retreat before such a task and all the ingratitude and slander associated with it is beyond all praise.
But this courage cannot be forced or false. Forced, it turns into bitterness and self-destruction. False, it turns into the boom of Feminist Fashion, which has replaced the boom of Radical Fashion. It is one thing to sacrifice one's work and goals for the sake of an ideal; and quite another when clear thoughts and sincere feelings are suppressed for the sake of ideology. Ideology is worth something only insofar as it contributes to the achievement of greater clarity and sincerity of thought and feeling.
In this sense, feminist ideology has been infinitely useful to me. It has forced me, like all thinking women of my generation, to know myself more deeply: to separate – often with painful difficulty – our real thoughts and views from the ready-made “truths” and “facts” we have absorbed (subconsciously) <…>. Too often we have discovered that we have no opinions of our own at all, but dogmas adopted from society; and therefore we must discover, invent, create our own truths and values, and ourselves.
This transformation of feminine nature is a liberation and relief for those who seek and need the support of a group; or for those in whom the woman has been systematically insulted, humiliated, exploited in childhood, in marriage, in their work. For others like me, who have not relied on peer groups and whose femininity has not been mutilated, this self-analysis and birth of oneself is not easy. <…> a woman artist must seek answers within herself and keep digging until she feels she cannot get any closer to the truth.
I keep digging. I use the arsenal of feminism to try to find out what makes me work and how I work, so that I will not work blindly or irresponsibly in the future. It is a long and difficult business: you go deeper and deeper into the darkness of consciousness and flesh, far, far from Schenectady. How little we really know about ourselves, both women and men! <…>
I have not yet written a book worthy of this great (and stunningly unfashionable) theme. I have not yet even figured out for myself what exactly I wanted to say with it. But rereading this early, casual adventure story, I think the theme is there, vague, faint, oozing from the depths. “To know where to go, you must set out on the road.” [ 3 ]


Am I to sacrifice the ideal of truth and beauty in order to make an ideological point?
Again, the radical feminist's answer may be yes. Though that answer is sometimes identical with the voice of the Censor, speaking merely for fanatic or authoritarian bigotry, it may not be: it may speak in the service of the ideal itself. To build, one must tear down the old. The generation that has to do the tearing down has all the pain of destruction and little of the joy of creation. The courage that accepts that task and all the ingratitude and obloquy that go with it is beyond praise.
But it can't be forced or faked. If it is forced it leads to more spitefulness and self-destrictiveness; if it is faked it leads to Feminist Ghic, the successor to Radical Chic. It's one thing to sacrifice fulfillment in the service of an ideal; it's another to suppress clear thinking and honest feeling in the service of an ideology. An ideology is valuable only insofar as it is used to intensify clarity and honesty of thought and feeling.
Feminist ideology has been immensely valuable to me in this respect. It has forced me and every thinking woman of this generation to know ourselves better: to separate, often very painfully, what we really think and believe from all the easy “truths” and “facts” we were (subliminally) <…>. All too often we have found that we had no opinion or belief of our own, but had simply incorporated the dogmas of our society; and so we must discover, invent, make our own truths, our values, ourselves.
This remaking of the womanself is a release and relief to those who want and need group support, or whose womanhood has been systematically reviled, degraded, exploited in childhood, marriage and work. To others like myself, to whom the peer group is no home and who have not been alienated from their own being— as-woman, this job of self-examination and self-birth does not come easy. <…> an artist has got to dig those answers out of herself, and keep on digging until she knows she has got as close as she can possibly get to the truth.
I keep digging. I use the tools of feminism, and try to figure out what makes me work and how I work, so that I will no longer work in ignorance or irresponsibly. It's not a brief or easy business; one is groping down in the dark of the mind and body, a long, long way from Schenectady. How little we really know about ourselves, woman or man! <…>
I haven't yet written a book worthy of that tremendous (and staggeringly unfashionable) theme. I haven't even figured out yet what I meant. But rereading this early, easygoing adventure story, I think the theme is there—not clear, not strong, but being striven towards. "I learn by going where I have to go."