Le Guin insists that androgyny is not the main theme of [The Left Hand of Darkness], the main theme being rather that of fidelity and betrayal. But, quite apart from the instantaneous response that the idea of the androgyne evokes in the reader's imagination, there has to be a reason, and a reason that makes good sense in creative terms, for using the androgyne as a term of reference for the discussion of fidelity and betrayal. The androgyne, simply by being presented as existing, looks to the trusting and warm-hearted reader like the answer to a question, and that answer looms so large that the theme of fidelity and betrayal tends to get pushed a little to one side. If one thinks about the androgyne for a long time and investigates the full implications of The Left Hand of Darkness, the theme of fidelity and betrayal does, in fact, have importance….

The androgyne looks to a lot of us like an answer. But, as the saying goes, "What is the question?" This whole issue of questions and answers is so important to Ursula Le Guin that she makes it a central feature of the Handdara, a mystical cult she has invented so that her androgynes can have a religion…. (p. 57)

By sending a conventional young man from Earth into a culture where there was no sexual differentiation, [as Le Guin did in Left Hand of Darkness] she made it possible for herself to imagine an area of humanity that would be shared by both sexes alike. (p. 58)

Le Guin, like any strong personality, has her dark side and recognizes it in other people, including the people she invents. Symbol of wholeness as her androgyne may be, the Gethenian is a human being, and consequently as subject to weakness, error, folly, and even crime as any other person. (p. 62)

[Incest] is a central theme in The Left Hand of Darkness, and it is largely in terms of incest that the idea of the androgyne is linked to the theme of fidelity and betrayal. Structurally, this is extremely important, because the basic situation on Gethen is somehow incestuous. At the beginning of the book, Estraven tosses off the epigram that "Karhide is not a nation but a family quarrel," and this turns out to be true. The basic social unit in Karhide is the Hearth, which is the home of the clan, and every social institution on Gethen is based in some form on the Hearth…. (pp. 63-4)

The sexual nature of the relationship between Genly and Estraven is blurred by the fact that Estraven is an androgyne who is neuter most of the time and Genly seldom has the opportunity to see him as a sexual being. But when he does, it is significant that he sees Estraven as a woman. As in The Tombs of Atuan, it is the "female" partner who contrives the male partner's escape. But Genly is very far from being the wise mage who serves the forces of light, and Estraven is by no means in the grip of the powers of darkness, but represents, in his own being, the reconciliation of darkness and light. Finally, there is no living happily ever after, for, in order to complete Genly's rescue, Estraven has to die, and in order to bring his mission to a successful conclusion, Genly has to break his promise to Estraven to clear his name. Love, although the one thing needful, is no longer a triumphant solution, but in itself, a source of grief and pain. And there is fidelity and betrayal on both sides.

The maturity of this conclusion to The Left Hand of Darkness chastens the reader somewhat, reducing the euphoria felt on first meeting the idea of the androgyne. The longing for a lost completeness, for, as Plato puts it, "the desire and pursuit of the whole," the nostalgia for a once-upon-a-time when all went well may, it seems, be a trap, a return to the incestuous bonds of childhood. But, since everything is double-natured (the Yin and the Yang again), this trap may be sprung and a way found out of it into greater harmony. As Estraven points out, duality is part of the androgyne, for there is always the Other. Recognition of the Other is the lesson of innocence and experience alike, and through this recognition we reach maturity.

In other words, Le Guin leaves us with an insight that is as classical as her way of presenting it is unorthodox. This is, basically, what makes The Left Hand of Darkness a work different in nature from other well-known thought-experiments in human sexuality. (p. 67)