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Linz's Mario Book—Updated!
Obleftivist Yawon Bwook says Donald Twump is "THE villain of our time." Which of the following best accords with your view?
Yes he is
He's not a villain but a hero
Putin might be a bigger villain
The mullahs might be bigger villains
ISIS might be bigger villains
Ugly Wimmin might be bigger villains
Black Lives Matter might be bigger villains
Snowflake moronnials might be bigger villains
College professors might be bigger villains
Fake News outlets might be bigger villains
Pomowankers might be bigger villains
Obleftivists might be bigger villains
None of the above—specify
Total votes: 9
Atlas Month—Happy Birthday, Atlas!
Submitted by Lindsay Perigo on Fri, 2007-02-02 22:04
Happy Birthday, Atlas!
The autobiography of former Rand acolyte Alan Greenspan, in which he credits her for his development, just got published with big fanfare. In recent weeks, both The New York Times and The L.A. Times have run articles about her work. Atlas Shrugged has been featured prominently in a recent episode of AMC's hit series Mad Men. A movie version of the book, starring Angelina Jolie in the main role, is slated for release next year. Meanwhile, sales of Ayn Rand titles have tripled since the early 1990s—in fact, more are being sold now than at any time in history. Atlas Shrugged sales on Amazon in the first nine months of this year are already almost double the total for 2006. As of this writing, Atlas ranks 124th on Amazon's sales charts. Compare that to The Da Vinci Code at 2,587.
—Forbes.com, "Atlas Shrugs Again," Sept 28, 2007
On October 10, 1957, Atlas Shrugged was published by Random House. Thirteen years in the writing, including two years on the novel's key philosophical exposition, Galt's Speech, Atlas instantly alienated all elements of the establishment. It still does. Yet according to an oft-quoted 1994 US Library of Congress poll, more respondents were influenced by it than by any other book apart from the Bible. Just two weeks ago the New York Times wrote it up as “one of the most influential business books ever written.” And with sales of hard- and soft-cover editions soaring, fifty years after publication, Atlas has clearly established itself as a twentieth century classic. The book that was reviewed, variously, as "execrable claptrap," "not in any literary sense a serious novel," "written out of hate," "grotesque eccentricity," "crack-brained ratiocination," "a pitiful exercise in something akin to paranoia," "longer than life and twice as preposterous," etc., has easily eclipsed the reviewers who denounced it so apoplectically.
An analysis of the reasons it was so hated yields also the reasons it is still so loved. Atlas, far more explicitly than Ayn Rand's previous best-seller, The Fountainhead, challenges, in Rand's own words, "the cultural tradition of two thousand five hundred years." It demolishes the sacrificial ethic that permeates the belief systems of that entire period. It repudiates the proposition that man's highest purpose and duty is to sacrifice himself—be it to God, the state, society or his neighbour. It roundly condemns the equation of ethics with suffering. "The purpose of morality," says one of its heroes in a startlingly direct and outrageous formulation, "is to teach you not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live."
Thus did Ayn Rand enrage religious conservatives and secular "liberals" alike. In the latter category, Gore Vidal could write that Atlas was "perfect in its immorality"; in the former, Whittaker Chambers could lambast it for its "materialism" (this, of a book glorifying the human spirit) and insist that from every page one could hear the command, "To a gas chamber—go!" (this, of a book whose climactic speech contains the following: "So long as men desire to live together, no man may initiate—do you hear me? No man may start—the use of physical force against others ... Do not open your mouth to tell me that your mind has convinced you of your right to force my mind. Force and mind are opposites; morality ends where a gun begins"). Ayn Rand demonstrated to all comers on the political spectrum that their fondly-held and fiercely-fought disagreements with each other were, at root, illusory—a home truth that those who heard it would rather not have. That is why the book was and is so hated.
Against their stale self-abasement and conformism, Rand urged man to rise, to achieve his proper estate: "an upright posture, an intransigent mind and a step that travels unlimited roads." That is why the book is so loved—by any human being who has not let his "fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all."
The title Atlas Shrugged is, of course, an allusion to the mythical hero who carried the world on his shoulders. It portrays real-life Atlases— inventors, thinkers, scientists, entrepreneurs, artists, labourers—shrugging off their burdens and going on strike. Their burdens—the "looters" and "moochers" who expect their "needs" to be met through the efforts of the Atlases—are left to their own devices (prayers, snarls and demands for the unearned) as one by one the strikers repair to a safe haven, a hidden libertarian society, "Galt's Gulch," where they deal with each other rationally and voluntarily, awaiting the inevitable collapse of the collectivist cannibalism they have left behind.
The reviews quoted above, and many more like them, nearly did Atlas in. On the strength of dismal initial sales, Random House became convinced that they had a commercial failure on their hands. But some critics got it right. John Chamberlain divined that Atlas was "directed towards the creation of an entirely new mental and moral force in the world." Ruth Alexander, in the New York Mirror, proclaimed that "Ayn Rand is destined to rank in history as the outstanding novelist and most profound philosopher of the twentieth century." And then the sense of life of millions of Americans took over. As Barbara Branden writes in The Passion of Ayn Rand: "As always in Ayn's professional career, it was predominantly word of mouth that caused the sagging sales of her novel to pick up—then to soar—then to skyrocket through printing after printing and edition after edition and year after year."
Fifty years on, in real life, Atlas has yet to shrug anywhere in the world. During the question period at the end of my University of Virginia lecture, Antipodean Altruism, I was asked: "Is Atlas shrugging in New Zealand?" My response was: "In New Zealand, Atlas doesn't even know he's Atlas." The business community in New Zealand, I explained, is cowardly, conformist, submissive, apologetic, anti-philosophical. It gives money even-handedly to every political party—except the one that stands up for it. It puts up with GST, OSH, the Employment Court, the RMA, the brutal tax penalty regime and all manner of such abominations meekly, while its leaders cravenly try to persuade the likes of Michael Cullen that they are more altruistic than he. And even then they speak in muffled voices. For who among them would dare to point out the obvious truth that if "benefit to others" be the criterion of virtue, Bill Gates, acting in his self-interest, is infinitely more virtuous than the selfless Mother Teresa?
As has been demonstrated comprehensively by free market economists, the "collective" benefits of self-interested action are real—but they are a consequence, not a primary (a point usually lost on said economists). Self-interested action is good because it is the expression of rational judgement. Rational judgement is good because it is by this means that human beings live (even those who don't exercise it are dependent on those who do). And life is morality's only defensible standard of value, the only possible criterion by which we can meaningfully designate anything as "good." By that standard, happiness—one's own, individual happiness—becomes one's highest moral purpose. In that discovery and all that flows therefrom lies the moral revolution of Atlas Shrugged. To paraphrase Gore Vidal, the book is perfect in its morality.
To this epochal epic—happy birthday! To its amazing author, a posthumous salute. She was, quite simply, the KASSiest gal in history.
More SOLO Store
The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand
Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand