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May. 28th, 2002 12:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7packing can be entertaining, though i haven't the leisure to do what i'm doing.
i found a paper i wrote on Ursula LeGuin's novel The Left Hand of Darkness-- actually a scrap paper of my notes for the paper, which I'm sure is on my computer somewhere. I assembled quotes from it.
I hated the book when I read it in high school; now, in college, I liked it.
Here's one of the quotes from the page:
p. 248-9 "And I saw then again, and for good, what I had always been afraid to see, and had pretended not to see in him: that he was a woman as well as a man. Any need to explain the sources of that fear vanished with that fear; what I was left with ws, at last, acceptance of him as he was. Until then I had rejected him, refused him his own reality. He had been quite right to say that he, the only person on Gethen who trusted me, was the only Gethenian I distrusted. For hew as the only one who had entirely accepted me as a human being; who had liked me personally and given me entire personal loyalty, and who therefore had demanded of me an equal degree of recognition, of acceptance. I had not been willing to give it. I had been afraid to give it. I had not wanted to give my trust, my friendship to a man who waas a woman, a woman who was a man. For it seemed to me, and I think to him, that it was from that sexual tension between us, admitted now and understood, but not assuaged, that the great and sudden assurance of friendship between us arose: a friendship so much needed by us both in our exile, and already so well proved in the days and nights of our bitter journey, that it might as well be called, now as later, love. But it was from the difference between us, not from the affinities and likenesses, but from the difference, that that love came: and it was itself the bridge, the only bridge, across what divided us. For us to meet sexually would be for us to meet once more as aliens. We had touched, in the only way we could touch. We left it at that. I don't know if we were right."
bold emphasis mine, on the page in a different color of ink.
p. 249 again: "A profound love between two people involves, after all, the power and chance of doing profound hurt. It would never have occured to me before that I could hurt Estraven."
p. 279 "And I wondered, not for the first time, what patriotism is, what the love of country truly consists of, how that yearning loyalty that had shaken my friend's voice arises, and how so real a love can become, too often, so foolish and vile a bigotry."
i found a paper i wrote on Ursula LeGuin's novel The Left Hand of Darkness-- actually a scrap paper of my notes for the paper, which I'm sure is on my computer somewhere. I assembled quotes from it.
I hated the book when I read it in high school; now, in college, I liked it.
Here's one of the quotes from the page:
p. 248-9 "And I saw then again, and for good, what I had always been afraid to see, and had pretended not to see in him: that he was a woman as well as a man. Any need to explain the sources of that fear vanished with that fear; what I was left with ws, at last, acceptance of him as he was. Until then I had rejected him, refused him his own reality. He had been quite right to say that he, the only person on Gethen who trusted me, was the only Gethenian I distrusted. For hew as the only one who had entirely accepted me as a human being; who had liked me personally and given me entire personal loyalty, and who therefore had demanded of me an equal degree of recognition, of acceptance. I had not been willing to give it. I had been afraid to give it. I had not wanted to give my trust, my friendship to a man who waas a woman, a woman who was a man. For it seemed to me, and I think to him, that it was from that sexual tension between us, admitted now and understood, but not assuaged, that the great and sudden assurance of friendship between us arose: a friendship so much needed by us both in our exile, and already so well proved in the days and nights of our bitter journey, that it might as well be called, now as later, love. But it was from the difference between us, not from the affinities and likenesses, but from the difference, that that love came: and it was itself the bridge, the only bridge, across what divided us. For us to meet sexually would be for us to meet once more as aliens. We had touched, in the only way we could touch. We left it at that. I don't know if we were right."
bold emphasis mine, on the page in a different color of ink.
p. 249 again: "A profound love between two people involves, after all, the power and chance of doing profound hurt. It would never have occured to me before that I could hurt Estraven."
p. 279 "And I wondered, not for the first time, what patriotism is, what the love of country truly consists of, how that yearning loyalty that had shaken my friend's voice arises, and how so real a love can become, too often, so foolish and vile a bigotry."
