Tag: Hainish cycle

  • Title: The Left Hand of Darkness
    (Hainish #4)
    Author: Ursula K. Le Guin
    Year: 1969
    Country: USA

    Format: Paperback
    Pages: 300
    Read: 2 – 13 April 2026
    Reread

    Genly Ai is an Envoy for the Ekumen, a sort of interplanetary United Nations. He is sent to the ice planet Gethen (aka Winter) to persuade its constituent countries‚ starting with the nation of Karhide, to join the Ekumen. To Genly the Gethenians are utterly alien: For one thing, they have no concept of gender. Most of the time they are androgynous and asexual, developing the drive and capacity for sex only in the part of their monthly cycle known as kemmer—during which they could become either father or mother to a child. (To them Genly is in permanent kemmer, which they consider a perversion.) Karhidish society is also dictated by shifgrethor, an intricate set of unspoken social rules that Genly finds impossible to understand. So when Prime Minister Estraven, Genly’s chief supporter, is exiled as a traitor, the Envoy finds himself in an increasingly precarious position. Will he find the neighbouring country of Orgoreyn more welcoming?

    The Left Hand of Darkness was Ursula K. Le Guin’s breakout hit, winning her first Hugo award and putting her name on the sci-fi map. (Or should I say star chart?) It’s easy to see why: This is a much bolder, more self-assured piece of writing than any of the first three Hainish novels. Le Guin explores her themes with a newfound depth and maturity, asking some big, searching questions about sex, gender, otherness, patriotism and nationalism.

    “Hate Orgoreyn? No, how should I? How does one hate a country, or love one? Tibe talks about it; I lack the trick of it. I know people, I know towns, farms, hills and rivers and rocks, I know how the sun at sunset in autumn falls on the side of a certain plowland in the hills; but what is the sense of giving a boundary to all that, of giving it a name and ceasing to love where the name ceases to apply? What is love of one’s country; is it hate of one’s uncountry? Then it’s not a good thing. Is it simply self-love? That’s a good thing, but one mustn’t make a virtue of it, or a profession… Insofar as I love life, I love the hills of the Domain of Estre, but that sort of love does not have a boundary-line of hate. And beyond that, I am ignorant, I hope.”

    This is a story of two halves—quite apt for a book with a yin-yang symbol on the cover. I find the first half extremely dense. Genly’s field notes explain Gethenian biology, sociology and folklore in meticulous detail, to the point that it honestly threatens to give me a headache. Genly, due to the baffling rules of shifgrethor, doesn’t understand much of what happens to him on Gethen, and I feel similarly out of my depth as a reader. (I had hoped to understand it better on second reading… alas not!) Once Genly and Estraven join forces for an arduous trek across the ice, however, the story finally coalesces. Le Guin narrows her focus to the relationship between two people from different worlds, alternating narrators to let us see their unique perspectives on each other. Only then does it become a deeply emotional story, and one that I ended up loving.

    In the first chapter, Genly attends a keystone ceremony. King Argaven places the keystone, the final piece that turns two separate structures into one complete thing: an arch. This is one of the key images of the whole book. Gethen is an isolated planet on its way to joining the Ekumen, becoming part of something bigger than itself; and on a personal level, Genly and Estraven are two aliens gradually finding common ground, forging a deep connection with one another. The more intimate aspect is the one that really captivates me, but both parts are necessary for the story to work. By the end, those two halves have become one complete thing.

    The group reading project, hosted by Gareth (Books Songs and Other Magic) continues to be a very rewarding experience. I think we all agreed that The Left Hand of Darkness is our favourite Hainish novel so far, and we’re looking forward to a livestream discussion on Gareth’s channel soon. I’m also excited for the next book in the series: The Word for World is Forest, which I remember being my favourite of the Hainish books I’ve read. After that, the rest of the series will be entirely new to me!

  • Title: City of Illusions
    (Hainish #3)
    Author: Ursula K. Le Guin
    Year: 1967
    Country: USA

    Format: Paperback
    Pages: 158
    Read: 15 – 21 March 2026
    Reread

    My Hainish series read-through continues with City of Illusions, first published in 1967. (You can also read my reviews of the first two books: Rocannon’s World and Planet of Exile.)

    An exhausted, terrified stranger emerges from the forest. His eyes are yellow, cat-like and alien, his memory a complete blank. The forest people take him in, teaching him their language and naming him Falk. He lives happily with them for six years, coming to think of the place as home, but questions of his past still linger. Who was this man before he was Falk? Where is his forgotten home and how did he arrive on Earth? Who erased his memories and why? Falk sets out westward to rediscover his true self, taking him gradually towards a mysterious city inhabited by an elusive, powerful people known as the Shing.

    City of Illusions is Ursula K. Le Guin’s third novel, the third part of her Hainish series, and for me it’s the strongest of the three. Le Guin continues to hone her skills, crafting more memorable characters and more evocative prose than before. (The first sentence is only two words long and I found it a more intriguing opening than either of the first two books.) The mysteries of Falk and the Shing kept me engaged throughout, and I enjoyed seeing the connections gradually emerge between the first three Hainish books. It’s a satisfying read that also strengthens what came before it.

    Le Guin herself, in her foreword to a later reprinting of the novel, expressed dissatisfaction with the Shing as obvious, uninteresting villains—a character type she generally avoided in her work, preferring to explore more complex themes than hackneyed ol’ Good vs Evil. I can see what she means, but I still enjoyed the book on its own terms, unencumbered as I am by the author’s own artistic vision. Yes, Le Guin would soon go on to better, deeper things, but that doesn’t make this book an artistic failure. I really enjoyed my time with it. City of Illusions may not be Le Guin’s finest work but it certainly set the stage for it.

    And, once again, my enjoyment was enhanced by the group reading experience hosted by Gareth (Books Songs and Other Magic). So far I think we’ve all agreed that City of Illusions is the best of Le Guin’s first three books—but everyone seems even more excited for the next entry in the series: The Left Hand of Darkness.

    But before that, keep an eye on Gareth’s channel for a livestream discussion of the first three Hainish books.

  • Title: Planet of Exile
    (Hainish #2)
    Author: Ursula K. Le Guin
    Year: 1966
    Country: USA

    Format: Paperback
    Pages: 100
    Read: 1 – 5 February 2026
    Reread

    My Hainish series read-through continues with Planet of Exile, first published in 1966—the same year as its predecessor, Rocannon’s World. (You can read my review of Rocannon’s World here.)

    The story takes place on Werel, a planet with a decades-long season cycle. Jakob Agat leads a group of human colonists who, centuries ago, were exiled to Werel by the League of All Worlds. Jakob and his people, despite having never seen their long-forgotten homeworld, remain staunchly separate from the local indigenous tribe, the primitive Tevarans. As a harsh, fifteen-year winter approaches—bringing with it a horde of ruthless nomadic warriors called the Gaal—cooperation between human and Tevaran camps may be their only chance of survival. But things are complicated when Jakob breaks taboo with Rolery, daughter of the Tevaran chief.

    Planet of Exile, while not yet Peak Le Guin, is a marked improvement from Rocannon’s World. Both books attempt to blend sci-fi and fantasy, but the second book succeeds where the first fails. My friend Pat (Book Chat With Pat) shared a quote in our Hainish group chat where Le Guin describes her debut novel with a colour analogy: If sci-fi is blue and fantasy is red, Rocannon’s World is purple. I would argue that Rocannon’s World doesn’t successfully blend its colours; it’s a book of blue and red stripes, awkwardly clashing. Planet of Exile, on the other hand, is properly purple.

    Le Guin’s prose here is more focused and more evocative than in her debut. The cast of characters is also more streamlined—there are just three races to keep track of, and the tension between human and Tevaran tribes is made tangible by the star-crossed romance of Jakob and Rolery. I sincerely enjoyed Planet of Exile. And it’s exciting to see Le Guin’s progression as a writer, especially knowing just how much farther she would go from here.

    The group reading experience, hosted by Gareth (Books Songs and Other Magic) also continues to delight. These past two months we’ve had some fascinating discussions, and I’m eager to continue them as we work through the rest of the Hainish series together.

  • Title: Rocannon’s World
    (Hainish #1)
    Author: Ursula K. Le Guin
    Year: 1966
    Country: USA

    Format: Paperback
    Pages: 112
    Read: 11 – 18 January 2026
    Reread

    Rocannon’s World is Ursula K. Le Guin’s debut novel and the first in her loosely-connected Hainish series. It follows Gaveral Rocannon, an ethnographer for the League of All Worlds. When anti-League rebels attack and destroy his ship, Rocannon is stranded on the alien planet of Fomalhaut II. The planet is home to multiple intelligent (but technologically primitive) species, each with their own unique social structures and customs. Rocannon, aided by a diverse group of Fomalhaut natives, goes on a dangerous quest to contact the League and end the rebellion.

    Rocannon’s World is ostensibly a sci-fi novel, but the whole thing is steeped in fantasy. Rocannon comes from a hi-tech world of interstellar travel, ansible communication, and weapons of mass destruction; but he’s stuck on a planet of feudal lords and heroic quests. I’m not opposed to such a blend of genres, but I don’t think Le Guin quite pulls it off here. The book establishes many of her enduring themes, but with little of her best work’s profundity or poetic brilliance. It didn’t take her too long to hone her skills, but Rocannon’s World is very much A First Attempt. As an established fan, I enjoyed it the same way I enjoy listening to early demos by my favourite bands: It’s interesting in context, but I wouldn’t recommend it for first-time readers of Le Guin.

    My favourite part of the book is the prologue, which was first published as a separate short story. In fact the story, Semley’s Necklace, was included in Le Guin’s anthology The Wind’s Twelve Quarters, which I read just a few months ago. It was fascinating to read the story both as its own thing and the introduction to a longer work. That gave me some insight into Le Guin’s creative process—glimpsing the seeds from which she grew an entire universe.

    I read Rocannon’s World as part of a group reading project led by my BookTube friend Gareth (Books Songs and Other Magic). We’ll be reading all of Le Guin’s Hainish books during the year, discussing them in the group chat as we go. It’s been a great experience so far—my fellow readers have shared some valuable insights into the book and Le Guin’s career as a whole. Gareth also plans to host live-chat videos about each book, so be sure to tune your ansible devices accordingly!