Dream A Little Dream
I just reread The Lathe Of Heaven, Ursula K. Le Guin's 1971 novel. I can't remember the last time I read it, though I know 2002, when the novel is set, still seemed far in the future.
It's a short book with a basic plot. There are only three characters that count. The protagonist, Orr, has dreams that become reality, but no one else besides him notices the change. He sees a doctor, Haber, who tries to take advantage of his talent. Orr has been ordered to submit to the
doctor, but he goes to a lawyer, Heather Lelache, to get him away from Haber. She eventually catches on and tries to help him.
More happens, but the plot is almost secondary to the philosophical debate. (Great sf doesn't have to have a lot of action. Take away the first and last chapter of Starship Troopers and the whole thing is about the education of a young man with a lot of speeches about government and morality thrown in.) Orr doesn't believe that great power should be used to order society as one sees fit. He believes that things happen, and no one should decide how to change them--even though he doesn't necessarily believe (as Heather does) that things happen for a reason. Haber believes it's incumbent upon those, who have the ability, to make the world a better place. That involves putting order to things, even if the results will be uncertain, perhaps disastrous--you still keep trying.
The "message" isn't as simple as a Frankenstein movie, where there are certain things with which man is not meant to tamper. Still, Le Guin stacks the deck--she's clearly on Orr's side, and has Haber constantly spouting self-justifying psychobabble, which may not be true, but always ends up with him wielding greater power. (Not that Le Guin has to make both sides equally palatable. Starship Troopers, and Heinlein in general when he gets philosophical, practically lectures his audience on the Truth.)
I like Le Guin but she has certain weaknesses. She's good at conjuring up different worlds, and exploring the philosophical and even practical consequences of an essentially human society with some significant changes. But often she falls down on plot, with stories that don't get more compelling as they continue, and sometimes peter out.
Needless to say, in 1971, she had to extrapolate to create the world of 2002. Of course, in The Lathe Of Heaven, there are several future worlds created by Orr (the name is no coincidence), but there's still a basic background against which every change is measured. It's always fun to see how close the writer gets. I'll ignore wars and foreign affairs, since that's always going to be guesswork. What about scientific prescience? Le Guin foresees pollution creating a Greenhouse Effect, where the temperature rises and the polar ice caps melt. Interesting. On the other hand, she imagines a world population of seven billion to be unsustainable. There's massive starvation, and even industrialized societies experience privation, with food being rationed and people jostling up against each other. Of course, Le Guin was merely using what experts of the day were saying was inevitable. (When Orr creates a world where a plague killed six of those seven billion, everyone's lifestyle is greatly improved. I wonder if it would work that way?)
Le Guin is still alive. (So are some of the "experts" she relied on.) I wonder if she's ever gone back to the old books to see what's held up.
There's a 1980 PBS movie of The Lathe Of Heaven. It's not bad, though the low budget doesn't help. A new adaptation released in 2002, the year of the story, is horrible. It changes so much of the plot you wonder why they bothered.
8 Comments:
I've read what are considered to be some of Le Guin's best, or at least best-known, novels:
1. "The Left Hand of Darkness"
2. "The Lathe of Heaven"
3. "A Wizard of Earthsea"
However, like you, I found the stories and characters less compelling than I would have hoped, and now remember almost nothing about them.
The one Le Guin exception is a short story I had to read in college:
"THE ONES WHO WALK AWAY FROM OMELAS".
Since we never got around to discussing it, it stuck with me.
It's very short (2-3 pages of prose) and can be found online. It's a morality tale that poses a single, simple question - one of those "What Would YOU Do?" kind of questions that can be debated at parties. I recommend it.
It's telling that, through the years, my own answer to the question has changed several times...
Well then, what's your answer today, and what did it used to be?
(The story can be found at: http://harelbarzilai.org/words/omelas.txt)
Upon first reading "THE ONES WHO WALK AWAY FROM OMELAS" as an 18-year-old freshman, the world seemed much more black-and-white and, with the untested moral superiority of youth, I was definitely a walker.
As I got older and began to not only see but experience some of the problems of the world, I began to think, "Would it be such a bad tradeoff...?"
Nowadays...
...I find it difficult to be 100% decisive about what to have for lunch, let alone how to fix the world.
I think that's a common arc. No compromise when you're young, not letting the perfect be the enemy of the good when you're older.
Brian, I too found the Omelas story very powerful.
I see it like courage under fire. I won't know whether I myself have the courage to walk away from Omelas until I am truly faced with the choice, but that's not the same as truly doubting what is right in such a case.
Of course, trying to overthrow the system might be even better than walking away.
Lawrence: I agree that you probably can't REALLY know what you'd do until actually faced with the reality of the situation, but it's telling to try to answer anyway.
As for overthrowing the system, the first thought that sprang to mind was the Hollywood pitch meeting:
Bruce Willis! Outnumbered but Heavily Armed! And we'll get that 4th Jonas Brother kid! It's "Die Hard in a False Utopia!"
That one I could walk away from.
I think you're missing the point. It's not about being brave against the grain. It's about being adult, and recognizing that there are sacrifices for everything. Nothing comes for free, and if it means some pain (for others, admittedly), it's still better than the alternative, which is greater pain for more people.
To Anonymous 8:52:
With due respect to your position, which is (solidly) to stay and not to walk, the obvious question raised is this:
Would you still hold the same position if YOU were the one chosen to endure the sacrificial pain?
I'm not saying your position is wrong, just that it's not, perhaps, as black-and-white as you indicate by opening with "I think you're missing the point."
I think that's why "THE ONES WHO WALK AWAY FROM OMELAS" endures.
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