As much as you might greatly admire a writer and their work, this doesn't mean everything they've ever written is brilliant, nor essential reading. This is particularly so when the book you are reading is a publisher's edited compilation of essays, short stories, articles, public talks and incomplete ruminations. The sense that they are mopping up the tad ends of their stash of Le Guin's output cannot be avoided.
Much of what is contained within Space Crone tells you little that appears fresh or enlightening, in the sense of blowing the dust of a topic. The short stories are largely insubstantial ones. The essays, articles and talks are mostly explorations of the differing constraints, biases and prejudices at play in science fiction, in the assessment of women writers. That a lot of these issues still feel prescient is a statement in itself. Though I could not escape the feeing that some were quite dated in content or style. Mainly because the arguements, though true, are now well trodden ones and have not been that effective.. Though these do chronicle Le Guin's own contribution and exploration of the pressures and prejudices applied to, or felt by, female writers. Cutting edge feminism these no longer are.
Another thing these post death assembled books cannot escape is the lack of a clear overarching theme to link them together. Due entirely to them never being never thought of as likely bedmates. So the subject matter and accompanying tonal shifts here can be jarring. Even though they have the mind and imagination of Le Guin in common, they were conceived to be read or heard in widely different contexts. How you speak upon any subject matter can vary depending who you are speaking too. Talks are delivered to specific gatherings of people, for whom the talk was formed to be heard by, and hence with a distinct purpose in mind.
So, this book was a disappointment. I became particularly vexed by my desire to skip things, which gathered in intensity and pace as I progressed.
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