Equal parts fantastical and tragic, The Lathe of Heaven is my favorite of Le Guin's novels I've read so far. Among its many themes, one stood out as particularly significant and ahead of its time. Toward the end of the novel, Orr is unable to keep track of the various realities affected by his dreams. "He was living almost as a young child, among actualities only. He was surprised by nothing, and by everything." How did Le Guin blow so effortlessly past postmodernism, perfectly capturing the post-postmodern regression, the complete capitulation to the flow, that we see today?