Skip to main content

The context you need, when you need it

When news breaks, you need to understand what actually matters — and what to do about it. At Vox, our mission to help you make sense of the world has never been more vital. But we can’t do it on our own.

We rely on readers like you to fund our journalism. Will you support our work and become a Vox Member today?

Join now

Remembering Ursula Le Guin, Queen of Sass

A publisher asked Ursula Le Guin to blurb an anthology with no women writers. Her response is excellent.

2014 National Book Awards
2014 National Book Awards
Ursula Le Guin at the 2014 National Book Awards.
Photo by Robin Marchant/Getty Images
Constance Grady
Constance Grady is a senior correspondent on the Culture team for Vox, where since 2016 she has covered books, publishing, gender, celebrity analysis, and theater.

Legendary science fiction writer Ursula Le Guin, who died on Monday, was always Queen of Sass.

Le Guin made some headlines in 2015 when she informed Kazuo Ishiguro that watching his press tour for The Buried Giant “was like watching a man falling from a high wire while he shouts to the audience, ‘Are they going say I’m a tight-rope walker?’” (Ishiguro had just given an interview in which he worried aloud that readers would think his latest book was fantasy, and that such a perception would trap him in the genre ghetto; Le Guin responded that if it was fantasy, it was bad fantasy.)

And in 2016, More Letters of Note, Shaun Usher’s most recent collection of important letters written by important people, unearthed another classic Le Guin smackdown. In 1971 she was asked to blurb Synergy: New Science Fiction, Volume 1, the first of a four-volume anthology series that aimed to publish “the most innovative, thought-provoking, speculative fiction ever.” Le Guin was less than amused by the request:

Dear Mr Radziewicz,

I can imagine myself blurbing a book in which Brian Aldiss, predictably, sneers at my work, because then I could preen myself on my magnanimity. But I cannot imagine myself blurbing a book, the first of a new series and hence presumably exemplary of the series, which not only contains no writing by women, but the tone of which is so self-contentedly, exclusively male, like a club, or a locker room. That would not be magnanimity, but foolishness. Gentlemen, I just don’t belong here.

Yours truly,

Ursula K. Le Guin

You can check out Le Guin’s immaculate signature, plus more from More Letters of Note, at the Guardian.

Update: This article has been updated to note Le Guin’s death in 2018.

See More:

More in Culture

Advice
What trainers actually think about the 12-3-30 workoutWhat trainers actually think about the 12-3-30 workout
Advice

Have we finally unlocked exercise’s biggest secret? Or is this yet another lie perpetrated Big Treadmill?

By Alex Abad-Santos
Technology
The case for AI realismThe case for AI realism
Technology

AI isn’t going to be the end of the world — no matter what this documentary sometimes argues.

By Shayna Korol
Podcasts
How fan fiction went mainstreamHow fan fiction went mainstream
Podcast
Podcasts

The community that underpins Heated Rivalry, explained.

By Danielle Hewitt and Noel King
Culture
Why Easter never became a big secular holiday like ChristmasWhy Easter never became a big secular holiday like Christmas
Culture

Hint: The Puritans were involved.

By Tara Isabella Burton
Culture
The sticky, sugary history of PeepsThe sticky, sugary history of Peeps
Culture

A few things you might not know about Easter’s favorite candy.

By Tanya Pai
The Highlight
The return of resistance craftingThe return of resistance crafting
The Highlight

Want to fight fascism? Join a knitting circle.

By Anna North