陽月南飛雁，傳聞至此回。 我行殊未已，何日復歸來。 江靜潮初落，林昏瘴不開， 明朝望鄉處，應見隴頭梅。
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Mon, 21 Jul 2003
Been re-reading The Dispossessed again, probably for the tenth time. Which must mean I'm feeling morose, cause it's my favorite book and usually cheers me up. But for the first time, I'm having trouble really appreciating it. I think maybe I've matured too much to be able to buy into it any more—so much of the society on Annares just seems like a simple-minded feminist socialist utopia that it just rings hollow. I can't sufficiently suspend disbelief any more.
There are still pockets, here and there, of a kind of transcendental Zen bliss that I really enjoy (Shevek and Shevet, Shevek and Gimli), but overall, I can't get past the feeling that Annares is a thinly-disguised version of LeGuinn's own naively idealized society, a society that has, and depends on having, miraculously erased certain fundamentals of human nature.
A classic is something that everyone wants to have read and nobody wants to read. -- Mark Twain, "The Disappearance of Literature"