Chapter 3
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Notes/Disclaimer: "The Left Hand of Darkness" belongs to Ursula K. LeGuin. And an excellent piece of work it is. I am making no money from this work.
The title is supposed to be a kind of subtle reference to the fact that at the winter solstice, the daylight starts coming back, even though the story doesn't really take place around the winter solstice. ; Not that anyone would possibly come up with that on their own without me having to explain it. Ah well. Hooray for esoteric-ness.
Kharidish Glossary:
amha - parent in the flesh (mother) (although I will occasionally use "father" in place of this term)
kemmer - the stage in the Gethenian sexual cycle, when the beings become sexually active and develop a gender for a set period of time, generally a few days
kemmering - lover
secher - stage 1 of kemmer, hormonal release
thorharmen - stage 2 of kemmer, establishing a sexuality
Handara - a religious community
Handaratta - inhabitants of the Handara
I know I fudged the ages a bit in this. Technically, Korcha and Sorve should be ten years apart in age at the VERY least, according to the novel's timeline. But I'm choosing to ignore that and mess with the ages a bit. I'm assuming that Korcha is around 17 or so. Call it poetic license. :P
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As it turned out, the meeting I had been dreading had to be postponed.
I walked into my son's room the morning after our guest's arrival only to find him snuggled against the newcomer, in full female form. I was honestly a little taken aback. Not because he had chosen to sleep with Sorve; I trust his brother to take care of him, come to that. No, I was ashamed of myself. How had I not noticed that my son was about to enter his first kemmer? Had I really been so preoccupied with my own pain that I had missed the signs? I hadn't even really considered it; I still thought of him as a little boy. But he was a man now, truly. I returned to my room thoughtfully, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake them.
Needless to say, neither of them were much for conversation for the next few days.
But now their kemmer is over, and this strange youth sits in front of me with his dark eyes and his solemn manner. I don't know what to say to him. I dare say that Therem cared for him more than he cared for any of us.
"So what exactly do you want to know?" I ask.
"Just tell me about him," Sorve responds. "He wasn't around much, but he was your kemmering for seven years. You must know something."
I chuckle, though it doesn't really seem funny. I feel my heart clench. Why should I have known him? Simply because he was around? Having his body present never meant anything. His heart was absent, that was the problem. That was always the problem.
"I don't know what I can tell you. I don't know if anyone really knew Therem, except for his brother. All of Therem's secrets were wrapped up with Arek. That was a piece of himself that he never showed to anyone."
Sorve seizes on this scrap and leans forward. "What do you know about my kemmering-father? He died when I was three."
"Well, not much," I admit. "All I know is that Therem vowed kemmering with Arek. When Therem became pregnant they refused to separate, and ran away from home. They lived on their own for a few years, until Arek died. I still don't know how that happened; I don't know if anyone knows, now that Therem's gone. But anyway, after he died, Therem gave the baby, you, I guess, to his father for keeping. And then he left. I don't think he could bear to live with the memories, to be honest."
Sorve is quiet, ruminating on this.
I find myself continuing, though I had not thought I had any more to say. "Honestly, if there was one thing that defined Therem, I think it was his pain over Arek. He guarded it so jealously. It was like a hidden core of his soul where only he dwelled. I always thought-" I feel myself choking slightly but press on past it "-I always thought that he must be very lonely. I just wanted to help him, to get rid of the loneliness. If only he had let me."
Sorve looks concerned, and I realize that I am becoming distressed. I force myself to calm down. "Other than that, Therem was a kind man. He cared a lot about things. He desired power but he was not controlled by it. He simply wanted to use it to improve people's lives. He was quite selfless that way." Even if he was so very selfish in other ways.
"You must have loved him very much," Sorve says softly.
That is honestly too much for me, and I feel the tears begin to slide down my cheeks. I nod in lieu of speaking.
Korcha enters the room softly, then pauses when he sees my tears. He comes to stand quietly behind Sorve's chair, his hand resting lightly on the back of it. "Are you alright Amha?" he asks.
I nod. "I'm fine, Korcha. Do not be worried." In truth, it troubles me now to see the way he stands so closely to his brother. I had thought nothing of it when they were kemmering, but is it possible that they will repeat the mistake of their common father? I try to find my voice to warn them, but find that there is nothing to say. There are no words that could prevent that catastrophe if it were to happen. There is no way to save them from pain, no way for them to learn but to experience it themselves. I am silent.
I stand to leave. Sorve looks like he wishes to stop me, but I wave him away.
"I will try to answer your questions more later," I tell him. I shoot a glance at Korcha, who seems happy that Sorve is finished with his business and will presumably have some free time. "I imagine you will be staying with us a while," I say. Korcha looks up at this, startled, then shoots me a curious expression. I try to smile encouragingly, but it feels more wistful. Korcha smiles back, understanding.
I leave them to their romance. The innocence of youth is not long-lasting, and should be left to flower in peace.
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