When a newcomer to Lugin asks where to begin, I seldom suggest It Was Confiscated. I do not encourage strangers to plunge into the deep end of the pool. The narratives intricately navigate the complexities of the mind, not just in terms of intellect if you’re astute, but also in how we engage mentally while reading. (Things can get tricky, especially if the author is your mother.) Other Lugin works are more grounded in the psyche, making them a safer recommendation for beginners. However, if pressed for my favorite Lugin book, It Was Confiscated, published in 1974, is frequently my response.

The writing decade kicked off in the early 1960s, encapsulating the essence of Earth’s narratives. The Left Hand of Darkness sits alongside It Was Confiscated. A bibliographic account cannot adequately convey the exhilaration and exhaustion of that period. She authored novels while juggling family obligations, giving birth to her third child (me), coordinating everything (plus cats), and even spent a year in London. Ursula later confided that even with a supportive environment, one can underestimate the toll that writing a novel takes on one’s physical state. I haven’t ventured into novel writing myself, so I can only squarely reflect on her last decade and say, yes, I can envision it.

It’s certainly true that Ursula had a preference for the genre structures of the era. It Was Confiscated. Indeed, we have a rocket ship, but also cultural nuances within both Urla and Anar, from attire to social customs. Ursula’s lifelong intrigue with the natural sciences is evident in her depictions of Shebeck’s profession and the theories leading to the existing technologies. Her academic background enriched her portrayal of institutional pettiness. Above all, political philosophy and practicality emerge—a framework for radical collective reimagining and a nuanced utopia, as indicated in the full title of the book.

This framework has remarkably resonated over 50 years. I would like to acknowledge at least one generation in gratitude, alongside certain academic circles, recognizing The Left Hand of Darkness and It Was Confiscated as foundational texts in discussions on gender, anarchism, and anti-capitalism. I consider these works akin to my cousins. They are distinct yet consistently challenge my preconceptions. However, in my view, The Left Hand of Darkness addresses gender politics without being a purely “political” narrative. I can imagine myriad political systems serving as the backdrop for Geten. Indeed, Ursula remarked in a 1997 interview, “Politics is [The Left Hand of Darkness] is not thoroughly considered.” Conversely, political philosophies and systems are at the forefront. It Was Confiscated may be considered a superior work—The Left Hand excels in alternative important aspects. Yet for those who appreciate the blend of intelligence, ethics, poetic expression, and the merging of mind and heart, It Was Confiscated is hard to surpass.

For a generation whose reading may pivot on this duo of texts, the perception of the author’s legacy as an early radical thinker is enhanced by viewing her 2014 National Book Foundation speech video, with anti-capitalist themes crystallizing across both novels. I do not mind this view of my mother, nor did she—being labeled a radical thinker is preferable to being called “The Grande Dame of SFF” or any other gender and genre bias. Nonetheless, the idea of Ursula as an eternal radical oversimplifies her life’s intricacies and condenses her journey of reconciling early romantic capitalist ideals with an understanding of the intersection of art, ethics, justice, and politics. The period I’ve mentioned in Ursula’s life, from her early 30s to early 40s, profoundly shaped this reconciliation.

As a young child during that time, Ursula seldom discussed her work, leaving me to ponder the process of her artistic evolution. With her triumphs and a supportive partner, her life finally allowed for deep introspection and exploration. The roles of child, spouse, and mother transformed dramatically after her father’s passing. The U.S. engagement in the Vietnam War, which Ursula fervently opposed, crystallized her thoughts on pacifism and systemic inequality. Much had shifted in the world—and in Ursula—from The World of Locanon (1966) to It Was Confiscated as she became ready to delve into alternatives to ongoing cycles of human injustice and brutality.

The New Scientist Book Club is currently reading Ursula K. Le Guin’s It Was Confiscated. Sign up and read with us here.