![]() ![]() I was unfamiliar with her most celebrated works- The Left Hand of Darkness, The Dispossessed, books by which she became the first woman to win a Hugo Award for Best Novel, and then, five years later, the first woman to have won it twice. She had always been there, like a mountain, or the sun, and it was easy to fall into the certainty that she always would be. ![]() When she died in 2018, I could have fit the span of my life inside hers almost three times. Nothing whatever results and nothing whatever is changed… I have been changed. Granite makes pinnacles, and then people rope themselves together and put pins on their shoes and climb the pinnacles at great trouble, expense, and risk, and maybe they experience a great thrill, but the granite does not. I am not granite and should not be taken for it. Le Guin’s 2004 collection of nonfiction, A Wave in the Mind, contains a curious, two-page essay titled “Being Taken for Granite” punning on “granted,” she declares that she isn’t granite, she’s mud: ![]()
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