Leftist Fiction

Any good leftist fiction out there that's slipped through the cracks? I'm talking actually leftist, not "Well the author might have had an uncle who talked to someone who was born a week before the Soviet Union fell" leftist.

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Das Capital. A little dry though.

The Culture series by Iain M Banks. His prose is pretty stiff but the ideas are fantastic.

I recently learned Jean-Luc Godard is/was a Marxist, but I haven't seen any of his films, so I wouldn't know if any were leftist. I've heard Breathless is good, though, and the protagonist kills a cop in the beginning, which starts the plot.

The Disposessed by LeGuin.

The communist manifesto.

Anything Hegel wrote.

List of good anarchist science fiction: benbeck.co.uk/anarchysf/hotlist.htm

László Krasznahorkai's The Melancholy of Resistance is at once beautiful and tragic for its poetics of absence in the context of revolution, describing not only the protagonist's community's broken historical and anthropological legacy, but the loss of its possibility to morally regroup and rejuvenate (alienation). Everything in its descriptions of space and form converges towards such as spectrality becomes both a sense of evil disguised as apocalyptic, (un-)natural calamity and a Derridean presence of "the non-present", of a "being-there (Dasein) of an absent or departed one" that desynchronises, recalls to anachrony, and is unnameable. What the protagonist longs for most of all is freedom of expression, thought, and restoration of the Kantian "dignity" of the person as moral subject. Being a left-wing thinker, rather neo-Marxist in their ideological option(s), they align to an entire Eastern European dissidence of thought, criticising regimes "from within" ie in terms of infidel applications of the basic Marxist principles. Therefore, what troubles the protagonist, and I daresay the author, most is actually not the left-wing orientation of such regimes covertly opposed but their totalitarian dimension.

"[…] for it was the approaching dawn that held him in its spell, that 'promise kept each morning' that the earth, along with the town and his own person, would emerge from beneath the shadow of the night, and that the delicate glimmer of dawn would yield to the bright light of day…"

Alright, now it's time to sleep.

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