Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged is done; all 42 discs have been listened to. Now where to begin? Oh, where to begin? This review will have to be different from my normal format because I realized early on that when you listen to a book, there aren't any pages to dog-ear. Obviously I'm going to have to deal with broad strokes, so:
Almost a week ago I attended an ice cream breakfast, given by a fellow garden home owner here in the retirement community. I started off with my customary social charm, trying to think of responses when other ladies talked about their grandchildren, churches and conservative beliefs. So there I was, winning friends and influencing people, when one lady actually started a conversation about books. The heavens opened; I was in my element. I acknowledged that I was currently "reading" Atlas Shrugged. The lady helped me along by saying that surely I was reading it again. Nope. I said I'd never read it before. She asked why? I opened my mouth to say, "I was an English major. English majors don't read Ayn Rand." But before I had taken a breath of air, I realized how snotty the remark sounded and stopped myself. Now, a week later, is it still snotty? Yes. But it's also a great way to start a review.
English majors don't read Ayn Rand, at least not as part of any course curriculum. (Actually they may do so now, but I'm talking early sixties.) So, let's say it's a true statement. But is it a valid statement? Let's see.
Sandy said she reads the Rand novels every few years as political treatises. No argument there; they are that. And in that regard they present Rand's political views clearly. (Assuming, of course, that I'm understanding what she's saying.) So do I buy into her views? I've never been that crazy about characters that, IMHO, personify the ubermensch. (Boy, am I surprised that Wikipedia doesn't list Atlas Shrugged as an example of the ubermensch in recent literature. I sure think it belongs there. Do I have another subject for a doctoral dissertation? Alas, no. My heart remains with the 87th precinct.) The problem I have with such ubermensch characters in literature is there's no room for growth or development. Rand's characters—the good guys—start out as perfect and spend the book explaining why they are perfect. The idiots, on the other hand, do stupid things and never realize the stupidity of what they're doing. I will grant, however, that they're fun to read about. To me the best parts of Atlas Shrugged were when the government morons were messing up what the industrialists had built.
Related to character, I think Rand missed the boat with a character named Cheryl. She's married to Dagny's brother and eventually learns that truth and honor rest with Dagny, not her brother. Sad to say, IMHO, Cheryl learns this and four pages later Rand kills her off. I was sorry to see her go, in no small part because she illustrated to me what novels do best. Actually, I think the two above paragraphs support why English majors don't read Rand. The reader learns a great deal about political theory but, IMHO, very little about humanity and even less about how novels are put together and work.
The other area where Rand drives me crazy is her heroines' approach to sex. Good sex is violent; good sex is degrading. Sorry. Dominance/submission has never held any appeal for me, particularly the submissive side.
Finally, putting all the above aside, I'm really glad I've read her books. When her characters aren't in bed or aren't expounding on how the world should be, Rand can tell a gripping story. That's most likely what I'm going to remember.
