The Passion of James Valliant’s Criticism, Part II

[Chris Grieb]

Michael,

A couple points:

1. Ellen's point about Cerf's recollection that Rand had a movie star like retinue seems good. I'm not aware of anyone describing Rand that way. (Although, there are very few publicly available descriptions of Rand by non-Objectivists, best I can tell.)

2. I imagine that to an outsider, Rand's interaction with the Collective or other supporters probably looked like an exercise in mutual flattery and sycophancy.

Neil; Both your points are good. From what I have heard about Miss Rand's visits to Washington she was only accompanied by Frank and Nathan. That's hardly a retinue. I don't know how many people she may have had go with her to Ford Hall Forum. Your second point is also true that descriptions of Rand by the "collective" and the "collective" were those of a mutual admiration society.

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

Neil,

I don't understand Ellen's point to be limited to a Hollywood metaphor.

What we were discussing was whether or not Rand cultivated being treated like a goddess (meaning adulated, agreed with, deferred to, held above all others, with spontaneous outbursts of admiration and gratitude for insights and teaching, etc.). Some people saw this up close and reported it (in addition to the Brandens).

Ellen contends that this is not true, that Rand did not like being treated that way, and, essentially, this was something limited to the Brandens, and appears to contend that the observation that Rand liked such treatment is made up in the Branden accounts out of thin air. I point out that people like Cerf, Rothbard and others saw something to that effect with their own eyes and reported it. Some spun it one way, some another, some merely commented, but I believe they all saw what they saw and believed in their own interpretations.

I do not understand why this is such an issue, anyway. People see what they see and report it. With Rand, it is a constant battle to keep the facts straight, because those with some point or another to make do not accept the fact that people see what they see and report it. Ellen's case is typical. She claims Cerf was wrong. Essentially, she claims there was nothing to report and that she even doubts that Cerf saw Rand with others around her more than a time or two.

Other people twist the facts one way or another all out of shape (and I am not talking about Ellen with this point). PARC is a perfect example, where the Branden accounts are misquoted and so forth.

It seems like when Rand is an issue, common sense usually takes a hike in otherwise intelligent people. They attribute to her powers and privileges (or malfeasance) and a psychological constitution that they would never attribute to another human being, past, present or future.

I say the woman was a human being, with all this implies both negative and positive, and a great one at that.

Michael

[Neil Parille]

Michael,

I didn't follow the above posts closely and haven't reread the relevant sections of PAR.

Yesterday I listened to the the reminisces of Gotthelf and Binswanger (now available for free from ARI). According to one of them, Rand said "What Aristotle did for the understanding of reality, I did for consciousness" or something to that effect. I assume when Rand said things like that, she wanted people to say "oh yes Ayn." I assume that, like the rest of us, she enjoyed being flattered even if, in her mind, she thought it was only an affirmation of her genius.

In the same way, Objectivists love to attack the academic world and academic journals. But when an Official Objectivist has a book or article published by a prestigious journal or publisher, they can barely contain their joy.

[Alfonso Jones]

Michael,

I didn't follow the above posts closely and haven't reread the relevant sections of PAR.

Yesterday I listened to the the reminisces of Gotthelf and Binswanger (now available for free from ARI). According to one of them, Rand said "What Aristotle did for the understanding of reality, I did for consciousness" or something to that effect. I assume when Rand said things like that, she wanted people to say "oh yes Ayn." I assume that, like the rest of us, she enjoyed being flattered even if, in her mind, she thought it was only an affirmation of her genius.

In the same way, Objectivists love to attack the academic world and academic journals. But when an Official Objectivist has a book or article published by a prestigious journal or publisher, they can barely contain their joy.

Interesting how quickly those who would suggest that they are the keepers of the Randian flame resort to seeking to avoid reality. They pretend that what is, is not, and that what is not, is. This in the interest of preserving an image of Ayn Rand which THEY choose... Are we someday to be instructed that Ayn Rand was a tall, thin blonde, and that to think otherwise is to betray fundamentals of Objectivism?

1) The Brandens published extensively, and those publications were (up until the schism in 1968) explicitly endorsed by Rand as part of the Objectivist canon. But wait --- they are now persons on the forbidden list! What to do? Solution --- airbrush them out of the Objectivism Research CD-ROM, out of many (but not all) citations in Rand's books, don't mention them. Smith writes extensively on self-esteem - and not a mention of Nathaniel Branden. Courses by Peikoff on Binswanger on Thinking - and no mention of Barbara Branden.

2) Barbara Branden is a forbidden person. So clearly one should not read the forbidden PAR. Non-cognitive? (And how could LP know this, since he hasn't read the book?) (Incidentally, please listen to "The Influence of Ayn Rand" by Barbara Branden, and then just try to say out loud that Barbara Branden does not have the most profound respect and admiration for Ayn Rand. Or read PAR - especially the concluding section.)

3) Perfectly understandable aspects of Rand's behavior (see those cited in the above post) conflict with the desired image of Rand --- then the "true believers" angrily deny them, even though they are reported by several witnesses.

In general, the principle seems to be: Evidence is evidence if it supports the desired conclusions (the desired image of Ayn Rand). But if it doesn't, it's non-cognitive, not to be read, witnesses are rejected, . . .

How does all this behavior fit with the philosophy of Objectivism? Why - for what rational purpose - must we get all twisted up trying to justify absolute perfection of Ayn Rand and all she ever said or did? She was a prodigious creater and an amazing thinker. We owe much to her. She was (and on this I do echo Peikoff) the best salesman philosophy ever had. And I would argue, the best salesman ETHICS and MORALITY ever had, also. I stand in awe of her accomplishments, and honor her for them. I so wish she could have seen the fall of the Berlin Wall.

Bill

[Ellen Stuttle]

I think I detect the all-or-nothing mentality in your arguments all of a sudden. To wit, if someone agrees that Bennett Cerf's account was accurate, this means that Rand did not have other facets. She was only an all-or-nothing caricature limited to that paragrah. Thus she needs defending.

Oh, of course Rand wasn't "an all-or-nothing caricature limited to that paragraph." However, you signed on to the analogy in that paragraph as expressive of your view of her. I am pointing out that the analogy is inaccurate. She was not "like a movie queen with her retinue, or a prizefight champion who's followed by a bunch of hangers-on, or a big crooner and his worshippers."

She was the center of a philosophic coterie of dedicated persons who believed in a cause. And the description of them as "sycophants" isn't an accurate one. He'd have done better to analogize to Wittgenstein and his group of acolytes, but he didn't take AR's philosophy seriously enough to have thought of such a comparison.

Further, I doubt that he ever had much occasion to meet the "Collective" members except at the surprise party. Barbara hasn't commented yet as to how often she met him, or whether the others (except Nathaniel, who definitely met him, describes having done so) met him except at that occasion. Ayn certainly wasn't accompanied by them in her goings and comings.

For the record, I don't think Bennett Cerf was lying in his memoirs and I don't see how he could be mistaken about something like seeing Rand constantly surrounded by sycophants (his word). You say he was wrong, but I just can't see how he could be wrong without lying about his experiences with Rand. So I repeat. I don't think he was wrong. I think he was a great and serious man.

He does not specifically say that he saw that, Michael. Indeed, he makes no mention whatsoever of any of the others being present in his discussions with Ayn Rand -- including the final quarrel which he describes, when he was trying to drive off in a cab to get home to go to a dinner party and she was still arguing with him from the sidewalk. ;-) (I've imagined that scene any number of times; I can visualize it so clearly, knowing the locale where it would have taken place.)

In fact, if I had to choose blind between the impressions of Bennett Cerf, who knew Rand professionally over years and published Atlas Shrugged, and those of you, who knew her only at a distance, I would go with his impressions. Hands down. No contest. But I don't have to choose blind so I go with both (to differing degrees). And I add the impressions of a whole lot of other people. And I throw in my own experience to boot. Barbara's account looms large in my evaluation, as it should. After all, she knew the woman intimately for close to two decades, shared a husband with her and wrote her biography. But after all that, I do my own thinking and come to my own conclusions.

Where does Barbara write that Rand went around accompanied by a retinue, or even hint that she did? Both Barbara and Nathaniel describe the "Collective" meeting at AR's apartment regularly to talk; they don't describe an image such as Cerf described.

And speaking of his impressions, I recommend reading the whole piece, carefully, if you can get a copy of it. I don't want to risk fair use problems by quoting the whole thing. The sections I quoted give a flavor.

What he's doing in the piece is the opposite of the "wink and nod" NB does which so irritates James Heaps-Nelson. Nathaniel will say as much negative as he feels the traffic will bear while staying tethered with as much positive as he feels is necessary. Cerf, by contrast, was making as much fun of Ayn Rand as he felt necessary to placate his liberal cronies (who had ribbed him unmercifully for publishing Ayn Rand), but his actual admiration for her keeps peeking out.

Sometimes I just don't get you.

It might help if you would read what I say instead of throwing in all kinds of extraneous stuff which you're answering which isn't even what I'm talking about.

For instance, you comment in your next post (addressing Neil):

I don't understand Ellen's point to be limited to a Hollywood metaphor.

What we were discussing was whether or not Rand cultivated being treated like a goddess (meaning adulated, agreed with, deferred to, held above all others, with spontaneous outbursts of admiration and gratitude for insights and teaching, etc.). Some people saw this up close and reported it (in addition to the Brandens).

Ellen contends that this is not true, that Rand did not like being treated that way, and, essentially, this was something limited to the Brandens, and appears to contend that the observation that Rand liked such treatment is made up in the Branden accounts out of thin air. I point out that people like Cerf, Rothbard and others saw something to that effect with their own eyes and reported it. Some spun it one way, some another, some merely commented, but I believe they all saw what they saw and believed in their own interpretations.

Ellen's point in regard to the Cerf reminiscence in fact DOES pertain specifically to the celebrity metaphor (he mentioned prize-fighters and crooners as well as a movie star).

In your next paragraph, you're leaping to conclusions about what Ellen does and does not contend, all of them outstripping anything Ellen said.

Addressing the details, and changing to first person: I think your description of what Rand "cultivated" is partly accurate but that it oversteps and thus exaggerates. I think that she did expect to be "agreed with, deferred to, held above all others." I make no such contention as that the Brandens' observations were made up "out of thin air." However, your description of what the Brandens themselves actually said, I think is a bit embroidered and goes farther than they did. The paragraph quoted from Cerf which started this is NOT something they said; it's a different image. And, I repeat, it was that paragraph I was addressing which started this particular episode.

In general, Michael, I think you'd do better understanding what I write if you approached with the assumption that what I'm talking about is what I say, not a whole lot of other associated connections of your own which you pull in and then attribute viewpoints on to me.

Ellen

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[Ellen Stuttle]

[...] there are very few publicly available descriptions of Rand by non-Objectivists, best I can tell.

She rarely went out, to places where many would have seen her. She's described as having gone to restaurants with Nathan alone, or Frank, or Frank and John Hospers, or Bennett Cerf.

There's a mention someplace of her having gone shopping at Macy's with someone from Russia (I suspect the someone was her sister, during the latter's visit).

There's a passage in Passion about how, even though she lived in NYC, she hardly ever went to the opera or a play or movie -- and about how she'd often embarrass whoever she was with when she did go by stating her opinions outloud -- and about how Dave Dawson cajoled her to go see...I think La Boheme, and how delighted she was with the performance, and I think said that she hadn't seen it since she'd left Russia.

Ellen

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[Ellen Stuttle]

This post is being added just to try to prevent people's overlooking post #180 on the previous page.

(Clicking on "last post" will bring one to this page, and people might not notice that something was added on the previous page.)

I wrote a long answer here to Michael's assertions (mostly at best half-accurate) as to what I was saying about the Cerf memoir.

Ellen

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[Dragonfly]

Cerf wasn't the only one to call the collective "sycophants". Read or reread the first two chapters of Jeff Walker's The Ayn Rand Cult. For example this passage in which John Hospers is quoted:

Hospers sums up Rand's inner circle similarly: "They became shivering-scared disciples who dared not say the wrong thing lest they incur her wrath... Rand said she wanted people imbued with reason around her... she actually got on the whole... a bunch of adoring sycophants." Efron suggests that you'd be better off with Rand if you were... a malleable nothing... the kind of special adoration the youngsters gave her... she could not get from an adult.

Hospers and Efron aren't the only ones, similar criticisms were given by Kay Nolte Smith, Phil Smith, Hank Holzer, Erika Holzer and Joan Kennedy Taylor. With so much smoke...

[Robert Campbell]

Chris Grieb's comment about Ayn Rand bringing just Frank and Nathaniel with her on a visit to Washington is consistent my (limited) experience.

When I lived in Cambridge and was able to attend her Ford Hall Forum appearances, she was accompanied by Frank and a couple of others. (This was the early 1970s, so of course Nathaniel Branden was out of the picture.) Harry Binswanger, on at least one occasion. She wasn't traveling with a rock-star entourage.

While I wouldn't lead with the S-word--I think it's better to call the people in her circle disciples, or adepts--many of them did behave sycophantically, and I have every reason to think that they were expected to behave that way.

It's a complete giveaway when Leonard Peikoff characterizes intellectual honesty the way he does in his preface to the Sureses' memoir: honesty consists in complete agreement with Ayn Rand on all matters, and in unwavering personal loyalty to Ayn Rand. Hence, Dr. Peikoff can claim, in that adulatory DVD about his life, that intellectual honesty is his pre-eminent trait, even though virtually everyone not affiliated with him or his organization would consider many of his actions to be intellectually dishonest.

There's a popular assumption that sycophants must inevitably be no-talent no-accounts, but human beings are a lot more complicated than that. It doesn't follow that just because members of Ayn Rand's circle fawned on her that they were incapable of ever doing anything on their own.

Robert Campbell

[Ellen Stuttle]

Cerf wasn't the only one to call the collective "sycophants". Read or reread the first two chapters of Jeff Walker's The Ayn Rand Cult. For example this passage in which John Hospers is quoted:

Hospers sums up Rand's inner circle similarly: "They became shivering-scared disciples who dared not say the wrong thing lest they incur her wrath... Rand said she wanted people imbued with reason around her... she actually got on the whole... a bunch of adoring sycophants." Efron suggests that you'd be better off with Rand if you were... a malleable nothing... the kind of special adoration the youngsters gave her... she could not get from an adult.

Hospers and Efron aren't the only ones, similar criticisms were given by Kay Nolte Smith, Phil Smith, Hank Holzer, Erika Holzer and Joan Kennedy Taylor. With so much smoke...

I'm aware that Cerf isn't the only one who's used the term "sycophants" in describing Rand's "Collective." I'm also aware, as per Robert C.'s post, that the term has different degrees of connotation and that not everyone means something as insulting by it as I think is connoted in the Cerf quote. I do not think it's a good term for the people in her original group -- except possibly, as I commented earlier, Leonard himself and Mary Ann, but I wouldn't use it even for those two.

Regarding Hospers' description, I don't think he'd have described the people in the group that way as of 1962, October of which year is the last he ever saw Rand. He doesn't even mention any members of the group except Nathan (two or three times) and Barbara (once or twice) in his own Memoir of his Conversations With Rand. I wonder if his own view of how "shivering-scared" they were was formed later, at second-hand remove. None of the people whom I knew who were part of the original "Collective" or the later expanded Second Circle were people I'd ever describe that way. (The only one I never met was Alan Greenspan, and I feel confident that the description never was accurate of him.)

As for "Kay Nolte Smith, Phil Smith, Hank Holzer, Erika Holzer and Joan Kennedy Taylor," so did they say that they were "sycophants" -- since they were all part of Rand's expanded later circle? As to Joan Kennedy Taylor, I very much object to the description being used of her, since my view of her is that she was an especially fine, strong, and independent-minded person.

Edith Efron was notably jaundiced about the group -- and characteristically had an acidulous tongue. That seems to have been why she was excommunicated -- she, recall, was the first excommunicant.

You wouldn't have become part of the group if you didn't agree strongly with Rand on basics and if you didn't believe she was a great genius. But I remind people that Joan and Allan Blumenthal remained friends of Rand until 1977, at which point they left; they did not agree with her on many issues of aesthetics; Allan had other disagreements as well. She pressured them on those subjects, but she did not require their agreement. Someone who actually was a "malleable nothing" -- as Walker describes Edith Efron opinining would have been "better off" with Rand -- I think would not have been acceptable to her. I wouldn't go so far as to describe even Peter Schwartz, who became part of the later Second Circle and whom I strongly dislike (even more than I dislike Harry B.), as a "malleable nothing."

Ellen

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Edited February 23, 2008 by Ellen Stuttle

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

Ellen,

You are free to continue if you like, but I think you should give it up. It's a lost cause. There is no way you are going to convince anyone that Rand wasn't surrounded by a group of people fawning over her and that she didn't like it. It doesn't matter if you use the word sycophant or not. A conceptual thinker knows what is being talked about. Quibbling over semantics is not the issue.

Even when Dragonfly gives you a bunch of names of others who saw the same thing and said so, you are still stuck on your theory. This reminds me a great deal of PARC. Just rewrite everything to suit the theory. Thus, not only was Bennett Cerf wrong, all these other people were wrong, too.

Gimme a break.

btw - How many times did Bennett Cerf say "I saw that with my own eyes" in his memoirs for other issues, events and people he described? I bet he didn't even use the term (although I would have to read the book to see). But the whole purpose of memoirs is to report what you saw during your life. That is an implicit premise in the work itself. So what if he didn't specifically say he saw Rand surrounded by her circle with his own eyes? It's implied by the nature of the work being a memoir. So once again, gimme a break.

And so what if Rand didn't appear at one place or another surrounded by her group? She frequently appeared at other places like NBI where they were in abundance and breathlessly awaiting a glimpse of her. She held court in her apartment day after day. In fact, the impression I have is that she rarely went anywhere at all. Either she was writing or she preferred to be at places where she could enjoy the company of her (to you) nonexistent sycophants. In fact, if we start digging, I bet we can come up with all kinds of places. Well... maybe not all kinds, but several. As I said, she is not reported to going out much.

btw - I stand by every word I wrote unless I specifically recant something. I think your theory (Rand wasn't surrounded by a group of people fawning over her and that she didn't like it) is disconnected from reality and an attempted rewrite of history.

Michael

[Ellen Stuttle]

Ellen,

You are free to continue if you like, but I think you should give it up. It's a lost cause. There is no way you are going to convince anyone that Rand wasn't surrounded by a group of people fawning over her and that she didn't like it. It doesn't matter if you use the word sycophant or not. A conceptual thinker knows what is being talked about. Quibbling over semantics is not the issue.

Ah, so now I'm not "[a] conceptual thinker." OOO-kay. I do agree, however, that "It's a lost cause" attempting to get you to attend to what I actually write instead of to your fancifications.

I'll leave you with this thought...

As I've said, and explained, I think that the particular passage quoted from the Cerf memoir which started this episode is inaccurate.

In the next paragraph of the memoir, he describes Rand's philosophy as "cockeyed." I do not think that that description is inaccurate. What sins of psycho-epistemology, I wonder, are revealed by my not disagreeing with the second description (or with several others in the piece with which I rather suspect you would disagree, even though of course Cerf knew her well over a number of years).

Ellen

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[Michael Stuart Kelly]

Ellen,

My own judgment of Cerf is that he saw things and reported them honestly to the best of his knowledge. You claim otherwise, without specifically claiming it of course. But you get close ("old fox" and so forth).

My position doesn't mean that I agree with any or all of his evaluations or vilify those who don't. Of course he had opinions. We all do. That is another issue.

Claiming that Rand was surrounded by sycophants is not an opinion on the "surrounded by" level. Cerf might have a negative opinion or evaluation about the people who surrounded her, but the statement that people surrounded her is an observation, not an opinion or evaluation. According to you, he didn't even see anything except at a dinner.

That's about as close to saying Cerf lied as you can get without actually saying it. I see no other alternatives than he was making it all up or maybe repeating gossip. I disagree with both and I disagree that Cerf lied about this. And I disagree that over years of relationship, he only saw Rand at a party or in his office. If I agreed with that, I would have to let go of my common sense, and I am not willing to do that. Publishers are well-known to be friendly to their best-selling authors and I see no reason to believe Cerf was an exception. Nor should we forget (airbrush) the fact that Cerf had a staff who also interacted with Rand and reported what they saw.

Nowhere have I said you are not a conceptual thinker. (More Valliant tricks? Dayaamm!) It is true that when you quibble over semantics, you are not using conceptual thinking. But my commenting on a specific case where you are doing that is not the equivalent of my opinion of you as a whole.

Michael

[Mike Hardy]

Speaking of how Ayn Rand affected people...

Here's a youtube glimpse from the Mike Wallace 1959 interview, showing a quarter view which gives some indication of the size of her eyes. They were dark and luminous, like pools that went on and on in depth -- magnetic when she looked at you directly.

http://www.solopassion.com/node/4167

.

Ellen

___

Very interesting video, Ellen. Thank you.

Youtube is a magnificent thing. -- Mike Hardy

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

While just now researching another post, I came across the following passage in The Passion of Ayn Rand (pp. 268-269). As it bears directly on this discussion, I decided to quote it. (I added the bold to highlight the fact that various groups existed around Rand.)

It was only the collective, whom, she felt, offered her the sight of her own world. "Our conversations," she had said, "belong in the same realm as the novel." As time went by, others were joining the group around her, as The Fountainhead continued its astonishing odyssey and attracted still more young people to Ayn. Some, who lived in other cities—my brother Sydney and his wife, Miriam, and Nathaniel's two sisters and their husbands, Florence and Hans Hirschfeld and Reva and Sholey Fox—were present only at irregular intervals. And what Ayn called "the junior collective" began to form: younger people who had contacted one or another of her friends to express their interest in learning more about Ayn's ideas. Ayn and the various "collectives" were becoming a small society. Her dependence on them for the spiritual fuel provided by her sense that they were part of her world, markedly increased as they became, except for a few rare evenings that she spent with others, her only social contacts in a life steadily growing more reclusive, a life lived within the boundaries of Atlas Shrugged. Her dependence became dangerous, both for her and for them; her need to know that they would never betray her, that they would remain unfailingly and unswervingly the consistent denizens of her world, became a demand impossible to meet. Despite Ayn's affection for her friends, her relationship with them had always been marked, and marred, by the absolutism of her moral condemnations of any deviation from the principles of Objectivism. Now, as if to clasp them still more tightly to the universe of Atlas Shrugged, she began to demand fidelity even in those areas that she herself had defined as subjective.

She had said, and continued to say, that the validity of one's musical tastes could not be philosophically demonstrated: not enough was understood about the mechanism by which music was interpreted by the brain and translated into emotional responses. Yet if one of her young friends responded as she did to Rachmaninoff, or especially to her lighter musical loves, she attached deep significance to their affinity. On the other hand if a friend did not respond as she did, she left no doubt that she considered that person morally and psychologically reprehensible. One evening, a friend remarked that he enjoyed the music of Richard Strauss. When he left at the end of the evening, Ayn said, in a reaction becoming increasingly typical, "Now I understand why he and I can never be real soul mates. The distance in our sense of life is too great." Often she did not wait until a friend had left to make such remarks. If she was now demanding adherence even in areas of subjective preferences, her demands in realms she deemed rationally demonstrable became obsessive.

Ayn's childhood division of the world into the white of good and the black of evil, with no shades of gray between them, was not lessening in this difficult period of her life, but increasing. Innumerable times, her shocked friends witnessed her verbal flaying of those whom she felt had failed her and failed her standards—a painter in whose work she saw a "malevolence" he was not working to correct—a journalist who she believed had compromised his principles—a student of philosophy who had been pleasant to a socialist professor who could advance his career—an economist who had not defended her publicly when she was attacked.

If you take out the philosophy and leave in the behavior, this is identical to the behavior of many artists who become famous, whether classical or pop, and their entourages. Allowances should be made for different fields. For example, rock star groupies and roadies look dissimilar to the collectives around Rand (note the plural), but those collectives do not look all that different from the disciples who sit at the feet of a famous symphony orchestra conductor. The essence is the same despite the behavior being different in the details. Barbara's excerpt certainly weds quite well with Cerf's description of Rand and retinue. Especially this:

These people tell her she’s a genius and agree with everything she says and she grows more opinionated as she goes along.

It was a two way street with Rand—as it has been with every famous artist I have known. They told her what she wanted to hear and she demanded it of them. Who didn't get with the program was expelled.

If all this is not wanting to be adulated as a goddess (who, in Rand's case, had actually created an entire universe of shoulds from metaphysics on down and demanded that her subjects live in it as she created it), I don't know what is.

OK, Rand had genuine philosophical concerns added to all this. But they were added to it, not in lieu of it. She was just as human on this score as Elvis Presley or Richard Wagner (or Frank Lloyd Wright, whom she criticized for this) or just about every great artist who has ever lived. This is what normally happens to them as they get older. Rand was no different.

Michael

EDIT - Incidentally, Rand's eyes were not as bulgy in her other TV interviews and video-taped lectures as they were in the Wallace interview, which was the first taped TV interview I know of. I don't place any particular psychological importance on that. She also got her teeth fixed later. I don't place any particular psychological importance on that, either.

[Dragonfly]

My reaction when I see that video is different. I don't see a mesmerizing personality, but someone with shifty eyes who has a rather wooden and mechanical delivery, as if she's reciting from memory. But perhaps I'm immune for her particular charm.

[Ellen Stuttle]

I debated at length over whether or not to respond to Michael's latest example (here) of attributing thoughts to me and then arguing against what he imagines I think. Responding only invites further answer, but I don't like leaving my viewpoint on Bennett Cerf misrepresented.

For the record, "lying" isn't how I'd describe anything Bennett Cerf says in his reminiscence of AR (including a couple documentable factual errors and the details of the story he tells about the sequence leading to Rand's finding a different publisher). I would, however, use the term "slanting" -- with an eye to his primarily intended audience. As I wrote earlier (here), I think he

[...] was making as much fun of Ayn Rand as he felt necessary to placate his liberal

cronies (who had ribbed him unmercifully for publishing Ayn Rand), but his actual admiration for her keeps peeking out.

Also, my description of him as a "wily old fox" was meant in tribute to his extraordinary career. Well before his death in '71, he'd become a publishing legend, famous not only for his wit and charm and knowledge of literature but for his shrewdness as co-founder and editorial helmsman of a firm which he and business partner Donald Klopfer nurtured into being one of the most powerful and respected houses in the "golden age of publishing."

A general request, since I don't want to keep replying to posts in which Michael makes presumptions about what I think but doesn't get it right: If you want an indication of my opinions, consult what I wrote.

Ellen

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[Michael Stuart Kelly]

Ellen,

I am confused. Was Cerf slanting or was he flat-out wrong in your opinion?

You claimed both.

Michael

[Ellen Stuttle]

[....] Was Cerf slanting or was he flat-out wrong in your opinion?

You claimed both.

If you mean in regard to the specific paragraph which started all this, I would think that the answer is obvious but I shall spell it out: Both, in different respects.

The image conveyed of Rand traipsing around accompanied by a "retinue" or a "bunch of hangers-on" is factually incorrect, although I think it was an inadvertent result of an ill-chosen analogy. The general tenor of the paragraph, as of the whole segment, I think is slanted to the liberal illuminati amongst whom, by the time the memoir was written, Ayn Rand's name had become even stronger anathema than at the time when Atlas was published. To express admiration for Ayn Rand in Bennett Cerf's habitual circles was just about -- metaphorically not literally -- worth your life. (I know, from experience, and it would have been even more so in his case, given the extent of his connections and his prominence.)

The paragraph is saying, translated: Hey, folks, she wasn't as obnoxious when I met her as she became; she grew worse because of the praise she received from her "sycophants." Well, I don't think she did become any more convinced of her rightness than she already was when he met her. (Also, something I didn't say before, I wouldn't myself choose the term "opinionated" to describe her, for similar reasons to those because of which I wouldn't choose the term "sycophants" to describe the Collective members. "Opinionated" has a different connotation for me than the kind of conviction Rand displayed.)

In short, he's making a degree of excuses for his having had anything to do with her at all, and for his continuing regard and fond feelings for her. He says several times outright and in a variety of other ways by implication that he liked her, including his statement in the last paragraph: "I liked her and still do. I miss her." He describes her as "brilliant" and "remarkable." He says quite a lot else flattering about her. I think he's doing some sugar-coating (with negatives) of the praise to make it go down better with his primary audience.

I also think that he slanted the story of how she and he parted to make it look as if he immediately and decisively wanted nothing to do with a piece called "The Fascist New Frontier." The story as he tells it diverges from the one Barbara reports Ayn telling. (See pp. 321-22 Passion.) If I recall correctly, it also differs from Nathaniel's description. (I don't have the page reference to hand; I think Nathaniel reported some details of at least one of the conversations he had with Bennett -- he in particular did have some meetings with Bennett; Who Is Ayn Rand? was published by Random House.)

Ellen

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[Jonathan]

Also, my description of him as a "wily old fox" was meant in tribute to his extraordinary career. Well before his death in '71, he'd become a publishing legend, famous not only for his wit and charm...

Cerf's wit and charm can still be seen on GSN, which runs What's My Line? reruns in the early morning hours. He was very good at the game -- probably the best of the regular panel -- and I always enjoyed his wordplay.

J

[Ellen Stuttle]

One further point about At Random. The book was published posthumously. As best I recall -- I could be wrong about this -- the reason for the delay was waiting until certain people Cerf talked about had died. I'm drawing a blank as to whether this was at Cerf's request or whether it was a decision made after his own death in 1971. (The book was published in 1977.) In any event, whatever the exact reason for the delay, Ayn Rand was still alive when the book appeared. I've hoped that she didn't see what he said about her, since I think that parts of it would have been painful to her. I expect my hope is in vain. Even if she didn't see advertising and reviews in The New York Times, there was plenty of discussion in O'ist circles about his remarks concerning her, so from one source or another she'd likely have heard of the book.

Ellen

PS: Re What's My Line?, J. I always made a point of trying never to miss that show back when. I loved it.

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Edited February 26, 2008 by Ellen Stuttle

[Ellen Stuttle]

Here's a little saga which provides a small illustration of the hazards of biographical research...

Yesterday I commented that at the time when At Random was published I had the hope -- which I figured was a vain one -- that Ayn wouldn't see Cerf's remarks about her, since I thought that part of what he'd said would be painful to her.

This afternoon a memory surfaced: Somewhere, I don't know where, I read of Ayn's saying about the "Would you cut the Bible?" story Cerf told that she didn't say that, that she wouldn't have said that because "The Bible needs cutting!" (She was speaking literarily not morally; i.e., she wasn't commenting on the message but on the method.)

This evening I was looking for places in Judgment Day where Nathaniel mentions Bennett Cerf. So far I've found references on pp. 225-28. (Those pages include a description of the surprise party.) NB reports the "Would you cut the Bible?" tale without citing where he got it:

The completed manuscript was now at Random House. Ayn had been open and receptive to Archie Ogden's editorial suggestions in The Fountainhead, and had nothing but praise for his skill. She was not, however, receptive to editorial suggestions from Hiram Haydn. She now regarded herself as a master of her craft who did not need the services of an editor. And, in contrast to Ogden, who had always been keenly sensitive to her literary intentions and had helped her to realize them more effectively, Haydn displayed no comparable grasp of Ayn's work, her literary premises, or her goals. She found most of his suggestions dissonant if not offensive.

When Hiram could not prevail on her to shorten Galt's speech, Cerf promised to try. But when Ayn countered Cerf's request for cuts with the question, "Would you cut the Bible?" he knew enough to give up. Some time later he said to me, "Ayn can be maddening, but I think that's part of what I love about her. She stands up for what she thinks is right." I grinned at Bennett and answered, "Besides, the speech is barely long enough."

I was joking, and at the same time I meant it. The speech was too long. But it fit the scale of the book. To me, it was a marvel of economy. Even today, I would argue that the speech, like the book, needs to be seen and understood in its own context, in its own terms, and not judged by an outside standard that may be thoroughly inappropriate.

.

Cerf, in his own telling of the story, makes errors about the speech which show lack of memory of the details. It doesn't sound as if he attentively read the whole thing even once.

I remember when Atlas Shrugged was being edited by Hiram Haydn. The hero, John Galt, makes a speech that lasts about thirty-eight pages [my emphasis]. All that he says in it has been said over and over already in the book, but Hiram couldn't get her to cut a word. I very angrily said to him, "You're some editor. Send her in to me. I'll fix it in no time." So when Ayn came in and sat down, looking at me with those piercing eyes, I said, "Ayn, nobody's going to read that. You've said it all three or four times before and it's thirty-odd pages long. You've got to cut it." She looked at me calmly and said, "Would you cut the Bible?" So I gave up.

So... If indeed she didn't make the Bible remark, what did she say? The result we know: the speech -- all sixty-one pages of it (in the original hardcover) -- was published as written.

Ellen

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Edited February 28, 2008 by Ellen Stuttle

[Ellen Stuttle]

Folks, I'm having fun on a bit of a memory-lane excursion reading about the New York publishing scene and various of its luminaries. I want to type in a long passage from Passion about how Random House became the publisher of Atlas Shrugged. Though the length of the passage indisputably pushes "fair use" strictures, Barbara holds the copyright and I don't think she'd object. I'll delete it if perchance she does. I've broken the excerpt into three posts.

This incidentally corrects a couple factual errors which have been reported:

(1) The eggs benedict story Peter Reidy told pertained to Hiram Haydn and One Park Avenue, not to Bennett Cerf and The Russian Tea Room (unless of course Cerf speaks elsewhere than in the part about Ayn in his autobiography of her liking to order eggs benedict at the Tea Room);

(2) It wasn't from "her sycophants [sic]," as reported in Cerf's remarks, that Ayn got the idea that Random House would be too liberal to be congenial to her; she'd formed this idea on her own years previously according to what Barbara reports her saying about Random House.

So here's the excerpt:

pp. 284-288

Word flew through the publishing industry that Ayn's new novel was approaching completion and that she was free of her contract with Bobbs-Merrill. The phenomenal success story of The Fountainhead had become a publishing legend, and her new work had been awaited with intense anticipation. She no longer had to struggle to interest publishers in her work; instead, they courted her, with lunches, with telephone calls, with expressions of enthusiasm for The Fountainhead. Almost every major publisher approached Alan Collins [Ayn's agent] to express interest in Atlas Shrugged.

Ayn's main concern was to find a publisher from whom she could expect, not necessarily agreement with her ideas--she knew that an innovator cannot expect that--but intellectual understanding and the courage to face the kind of antagonism her book inevitably would arouse. She made up a list of questions to keep in mind when she spoke to the publishers she was considering: Are they aggressive? Will they stand by a controversial book? What is their enthusiasm for publishing? Do they have initiative or are they routine-bound?

From among the inquiries, Ayn and Alan Collins selected four possibilities. McGraw-Hill, because "they wrote a very enthusiastic letter to Alan about the scope of the publicity campaign they would undertake, and because they were a big business house." Knopf, because "Alan had a great deal of confidence in Pat Knopf, who was just taking over the business from his parents." But Alan warned her that the senior Knopfs had "retired" several times, but had always returned; if it happened again, it would be a problem for her; they were difficult to deal with and he felt that they would not respond to her book as she wished. Viking, because Archie Ogden, who was no longer staff editor at a publishing house, had arranged with Viking that if he brought them a novel they wanted, he would edit it and would get a percentage of the profits. Ayn had never forgotten that Archie had risked his job for The Fountainhead; although she would not otherwise have considered Viking, she was eager to help him if she could--but not at the expense of Atlas.

The fourth contender was Random House. Hiram Haydn, editor-in-chief at Random House, had been an editor for Bobbs-Merrill; in those years he had lunched with Ayn at intervals to ask how her new novel was progressing; Ayn had liked him and felt she could deal with him. Haydn would later say, speaking of their meetings and of the power of Ayn's intellect: "Because of Ayn Rand, I have a foolproof method of judging honesty. If I introduce a friend to her, and they meet for a discussion, and the friend then tells me that their differences ended in a draw--I know he's a liar. If he tells me that their differences ended in his demonstrating the truth of his views--I know he's a hopeless, permanent, irredeemable liar."

In his posthumously published autobiography, Words and Faces, Haydn wrote: "I shall never forget (those words again, but true) my first meeting with Ayn. A short, squarish woman, with black hair cut in bangs and a Dutch bob....Her eyes were as black as her hair, and piercing. We sat down for lunch at One Park Avenue, a place to which we were to return again and again because their eggs Benedict were good, and that was her invariable meal. I made one or two conventional remarks: she fixed me with those eyes and said, 'What are your premises?'

"Again and again, during the next decade, I was to hear that question--with anticipation when it was addressed to someone else, with discomfiture when to myself. For Ayn had built up a comprehensive systematic philosophy, which she calls Objectivism, and which, once you accept its first premises, is the most closely reasoned, rigorously logical and consistently interlocking world view and explanation since the great synthesis of Thomas Aquinas."

Now that Ayn was free of Bobbs, Haydn again began taking her to lunch for the purpose of selling her on Random House. "It was a benevolent joke on me," Ayn was to say. "For years I had considered Random House, next to Simon and Schuster, the worst possible place for my work; until the forties, when they published Whittaker Chambers's Witness, they were the most left-wing of all publishers." Despite Haydn's assurances that this was no longer the case, Ayn was hesitant. He asked that she and Alan Collins at least meet with the owners, Bennett Cerf and Donald Klopfer, so that she could judge for herself. "It's a fair request," Ayn said, "We'll meet for lunch."

[continued in next post]

.

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Edited February 29, 2008 by Ellen Stuttle

[Ellen Stuttle]

pp. 284-288

[continued from previous post]

The morning of the luncheon, everything seemed to go wrong. Ayn had an emergency dentist appointment; when she left the dentist's office, her jaw aching, it began raining heavily, and no cabs were to be found. She arrived at the restaurant feeling dutiful about the meeting and expecting nothing.

"It was the best and most exciting publisher's meeting I have ever had in my career," she later said.

"I liked Bennett and Donald immediately, they had such an open, active, intellectual attitude. They spoke as I would want publishers to speak--they faced ideas openly, they heard what I said, they were enthusiastic about my work, they answered all my questions straight. I explained my problem to them, that other publishers wanted a chance at the book, and that I had not decided to which of four publishers I should first submit. Bennett came up with a brilliant idea--and what I liked about him was the fact that he focused enough and had enough initiative to think on the spot and propose something. He proposed, in effect, a philosophical contest, by a method that at that time was daringly unprecedented in the publishing world. He proposed that, with their knowledge and consent, I should submit to all four publishers simultaneously, not for the purpose of getting cross-bidding on terms, but in order to learn their reactions, how they felt about the book, and how they proposed to handle it. By their answers, I could choose whom I wanted to deal with....That he suggested such an idea told me that Bennett understood and took seriously exactly what I wanted. Alan and I said we would consider it and let them know.

"Another highlight of the luncheon was a statement by Donald. I had indicated only the general ideology of Atlas, that it was an extreme, uncompromising, moral defense of capitalism and presented a new philosophy. Donald's accumen startled me when he said, 'If it is a moral defense of capitalism, wouldn't it have to clash with the entire tradition of Judaeo-Christian ethics?' I had never heard anyone else observe the clash between capitalism and religion, and I was enormously pleased that he was so philosophical." Ayn did not ask him whether he agreed or disagreed with her position; what impressed her was that he had understood an issue which professional defenders of capitalism seemed unable to understand.

After the Random House luncheon, Ayn came home to talk about it ecstatically for several days. She was unbending in her condemnation of the bad, but when she discovered people or events that could elicit her positive response, she was as openly and happily enthusiastic as a child who has never been hurt, never been disappointed, never had cause for bitterness or suspicion.

Ayn and Alan Collins, with Archie Ogden, next met with Harold K. Guinzburg, the owner of Viking Press. "The whole tone, style and universe was totally different than Random House," Ayn reported. "The Viking people were uncomfortable discussing controversial issues, and when I mentioned Bennett's idea, Guinzburg was very much against it; he said he had no personal objection to entering such a contest, but 'what would you really learn?--publishers will necessarily lie to you--they'll want the book and will say what you want to hear.' I'll remain naive until I'm ninety, I'm sure, because that shocked me. He was cynically admitting his own lack of integrity. Then he explained how their editorial board functioned: major books are submitted to all eight editors, all of them read it and make suggestions to the writer. He was even saying it as an advantage, because, he said, 'If one or two editors said something was wrong, you wouldn't have to accept it; but if all eight said it, wouldn't you want to consider it?' I answered quietly, 'No, I wouldn't.' He was saying that to the writer of The Fountainhead."

At the final luncheon, Ayn met Pat Knopf. "He was very active and intellectual, he told me very intelligently and enthusiastically why he liked The Fountainhead, and controversy didn't seem to bother him. But he didn't make anywhere near as good an impression as the Random House men....Perhaps there was a bit too much youthful enthusiasm--and he wasn't that young...He was willing to accept the contest, but he said that his father was still officially head of the company, and would refuse--Alfred Knopf would consider it an insult to the Knopf imprint."

[continued in next post]

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Edited February 29, 2008 by Ellen Stuttle

[Ellen Stuttle]

pp. 284-288

[continued from previous post]

Ayn and Alan Collins returned to Collins's office to make their decision. But Ayn said that Bennett Cerf's idea had already worked, and that no actual contest was necessary. On the basis of his idea, she felt that she had the best test of Random House possible. "My mind was really made up at the first luncheon," she said. "If this is the campaign they staged to get me, they will be just as clever and active in selling my book."

Random House had been calling Alan Collins to ask if Ayn would accept the idea of the contest. She decided to stage the kind of dramatic scene she loved, and Alan got into the spirit of it. He made an appointment with Bennett, merely saying that he wanted to talk about the book; he did not mention that Ayn would be joining him. "When we entered Bennett's office," Ayn would report happily, "I said to him: 'You have the first, exclusive submission. The book is yours.' Bennett simply inclined his head silently for what seemed a full minute."

When Bennett, Donald Klopfer, and Hiram Haydn had read the manuscript [what was finished of it by then; the book wasn't yet complete], Bennett opened his next meeting with Ayn with the words: "It's a great book. Name your own terms."

"The whole atmosphere was wonderful and enthusiastic," Ayn said. "And the deal was completed the way Alan Greenspan told me Wall Street tycoons used to do it in the old days: in about five minutes. Alan Collins said we wanted a fifty-thousand-dollar advance--they said okay; he said we wanted a straight fifteen percent royalty, they said okay; Alan asked for a guaranteed first-edition printing--they said they'd print seventy-five or a hundred thousand with a minimum guaranteed advertising budget of twenty-five thousand dollars. There was no bargaining or bickering, it was settled just like that--in the spirit of an enormous celebration."

When the business part of their meeting ended, Ayn was told, to her delight, that when Bennett had finished reading the scene of the train ride on the John Galt Line, he ran out of his office and down the hall, waving the manuscript and shouting: "It's magnificent!" Donald Klopfer said that he had recently been flying over Detroit--and he'd suddenly felt glad that smoke was coming out of the factory chimneys, that the factories were still functioning. "They didn't pretend to be converted," Ayn said, "but they knew these were important ideas and they were very affected by the book. And Bennett was chortling about how they'd antagonize their neighbors." The Random House offices occupied one wing of a wonderful old Stanford White brownstone palazzo, across from St. Patrick's Cathedral; it had been built in 1885 as a private mansion, consisting of five buildings joined by a common courtyard. The other buildings were owned by the Catholic Church.

As Ayn and Alan Collins were leaving Random House, Hiram Haydn ran down the stairs after them to kiss Ayn and to say how much her decision meant to him. She asked, "Don't you want to hear all the details of how I arrived at my decision?" He answered: "I don't care--just so you did it!"

Later, Ayn met with Donald Klopfer--who had said that Atlas had caused him to change his mind about several issues--to ask him what those issues were. Ayn would always remember that "he said above all, what impressed him was the demonstration that industrial and business success depended on intelligence and ability. Before, he had felt faintly guilty when he was reproached for his success. After reading Atlas, he attended a party where someone was criticizing a famous doctor for charging high prices and being very rich--and Donald thought of Atlas Shrugged and suddenly said: 'And what's wrong with being rich, if he has earned it by ability?'"

[barbara then continues with some quotes from At Random and a few more from Klopfer...and then talks about Ayn's writing the reprise of the Halley's music description...and finishing the novel.]

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Edited February 29, 2008 by Ellen Stuttle