le guin is not your unproblematic grandma

put some actual respect on her name

Because of my affection for Joanna Russ’s work—and because Russ was often fixated on the problems she saw in Ursula K. Le Guin’s work—I often worry about giving the impression I have it out for Ursula K. Le Guin in some sense. Actually, I probably give no impression of having any opinion about Le Guin unless you’re one of the handful of people I text about these things, but nevertheless. This is not the case. Like most people with a functioning brain, I revere her. (And so, in her way, did Russ.)

Of the various now-dead science fiction writers I like to read, I really doubt I could have been friends with any of them, but Le Guin is probably the most likely.¹ We have certain things in common—a temperamental conservatism matched with left-liberal political outlook—that make us sympathetic parties. (I think.) Whereas Joanna Russ would have taken one look at me and killed me with a single shot to the forehead.