Why did Dagny and Hank assume the motor had been invented by a single man?


brg253

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I happen to love Rand's writing style in her fiction.

I think it is one of the reasons she impacts so many people on such a visceral level.

I don't "defend" it because I don't believe it needs defending. The steady sales or Rand's fiction over the years is concrete proof of the universal value it holds in the place of mankind's greatest literature. People buy it because they resonate with it. No one forces them to. If they didn't resonate with it, they would have stopped buying it ages ago, as they did with many excellent writers.

I also acknowledge that when you hit the mark on a visceral level, you will get some people with strong negative reactions. The reasons are varied. There are the "evaders," etc., but that never satisfied me as the full story, even in my Randroid days.

I hadn't thought of the Aspie thing until recently, but that is an excellent reason why some people can't stand Rand's writing style. And "can't stand" seems to bear out with the vast majority of those (I am aware of) who say they have an Aspie condition.

I see no reason to defend Rand's writing style to those who lover her writing. And I see no way to do so to those who hate the style. This isn't one of my top priorities, anyway.

Michael

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> I see no reason to defend Rand's writing style to those who lover her writing. And I see no way to do so to those who hate the style.

Michael, I don't think you have to. But for me, laying out my reasons helps me appreciate, understand, grasp, feel them more. And I rather enjoy literature debates more than epistemology, politics, economics simply because the latter have become repetitious for me. Plus, there are people who have read different authors in the literature area or are familiar with different painters or singers. And it's helpful to me to see where they are coming from. And I may even learn something. (That's one reason I'm slogging through Joyce's "Dubliners", why I'm appreciating Michael Newberry's image postings - even if I haven't always liked what he's done or offered every time in past years.)

Sometimes in teaching literature, I was not fully aware of what I thought or felt until we went over it in the classroom. Which came as a surprise. What could I learn from Tom Sawyer or literature "for teens"? Turns out, quite a lot.

In the area of the arts for me, especially if it's something I "just felt deeply" about but didn't fully, absolutely, completely know why, this is where my heart is, where I "live" on some deep level. And I have a sense that I haven't yet fully understood all of it, or 'grown' completely yet.

The things most important to me are the things I feel deeply about, that touch my soul. And these are often in the literary, visual, or musical arts.

As far as 'no way to do so' for those who 'hate' the style, I think the posts I've been making in this area are a way to do that. Whether they change minds is not as relevant to me as focusing on myself, on whether -this- is the way to explain, whether I have named something to myself. Or reexperienced it.

I don't take offense or get outraged or irritated when people disagree esthetically or on ideas (unless they are advocating Nazism or something that -everybody- can see is wrong - which is extremely rare: Peikoff has way too many categories of that). I tend to have those irritated reactions when I think they are lazy and guilty of willfully sloppy thinking, willfully sloppy writing. As opposed to those who simply haven't yet learned thinking and writing skills in a particular context or field.

Edited by Philip Coates
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I hadn't thought of the Aspie thing until recently, but that is an excellent reason why some people can't stand Rand's writing style. And "can't stand" seems to bear out with the vast majority of those (I am aware of) who say they have an Aspie condition.

Michael

Speaking as an Aspie, I disagree with you. The aggressive tone and vivid metaphorical style you mentioned as reasons an Aspie might dislike her are important features of her non fictional writing, and I like that extremely well. It's possible that the semi-stereotypical depiction of Aspies as not liking fiction in general may play into this, but my impression of Rand is that she is not really a great novelist, and that's a judgment formed by comparison to other great novelists. Her style is mannered and overburdened, her characters two dimensional (and sometimes one dimensional)--I can't recollect feeling that any of them might step out of the novel and start living on their own. They didn't breathe except when she puffed air into their (metaphorical) lungs. That's why, for instance, James Joyce is a great novelist.

However, I'm interested enough that I'll be starting a re-read of AS in the near future (although outside circumstances may mean it will be a while before I finish the book), with the express purpose of trying to see what impresses other people about it.

Has Baal expressed an opinion on this?

And have you yet introduced your stepson to Rand's writing, and if so, may I ask his reaction?

Jeffrey S.

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Phil,

I, too, find teaching a great learning experience.

Jeff,

Agree or disagree, I see what I see. And what I have seen shows a clear pattern. I stand by my comments until I see more.

Bob K has stated that Heinlein was a far greater writer than Rand.

As to Ragnar, he doesn't speak English. He knows he was named after a pirate, but that's about all. Rand isn't big in Brazil. AS is in Portuguese, but his mother did not resonate with it. Brazilians are huge on empathy and good times. The loner-type starkness and their excruciating struggles, even the rough sex, of Rand's heroes are all a bit off code for them.

Michael

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In another thread I talk about how I enjoyed the Apollo 11 article. It is fantastic. Best piece of non-fiction writing by her that I've encountered so far.

But that piece is another illustration of how inconsistent Rand could be. In AS the ultimate villain is Dr. Robert Stadler, the scientist who sold his soul to the Devil (the government as financier of scientific research). But in Apollo 11 she waxes quite lyrical about a scientific/technological state project.

Sure, she pays lip service to her own principles, writing:

Is it proper for the government to engage in space projects? No, it is not - except insofar as space projects involve military aspects, in which case, and to that extent, it is not merely proper, but mandatory. Scientific research as such, however, is not the proper province of the government.

But this is a political issue; it pertains to the money behind the lunar mission or to the method of obtaining that money, and to the project's administration; it does not affect the nature of the mission as such, it does not alter the fact that this was a superlative technological achievement.

But this sounds like a lame excuse by belittling the whole issue of financing as an unimportant detail, like "oh, I admit that it's not the proper province for the government, but what the heck, it is a magnificent achievement and that is what counts". Here she ignores the fact that without government financing the whole Apollo project would never have been realized. So she wants to have her cake and eat it too. Either you condemn government financing of science and technology or you pay a lyrical homage to a state project, but not both. In fact we see here the same inconsistency as in her view on art, when she is extremely insistent on selectivity in choosing the subject ("That which is not worth contemplating in life, is not worth re-creating in art") but cheerfully abandons that principle when she sees a painting of a crumbling wall by the third-rate artist Capuletti. So it seems that her principles are not so fundamental after all.

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Oh you are so right! Ayn was just a bitch!

"So she wants to have her cake and eat it too."

No one should read her because she was a human being with major faults!

She did not practice what she preached!

I vote we ban her books and burn her in effigy with her books!

Purge the witch!

I'll bring the marshmallows.

I still cite Jack Nicholson's statement, "Frankly, I'd just like you to say thank you..."

Thank you Ayn.

Adam

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In another thread I talk about how I enjoyed the Apollo 11 article. It is fantastic. Best piece of non-fiction writing by her that I've encountered so far.

But that piece is another illustration of how inconsistent Rand could be. In AS the ultimate villain is Dr. Robert Stadler, the scientist who sold his soul to the Devil (the government as financier of scientific research). But in Apollo 11 she waxes quite lyrical about a scientific/technological state project.

Sure, she pays lip service to her own principles, writing:

Is it proper for the government to engage in space projects? No, it is not - except insofar as space projects involve military aspects, in which case, and to that extent, it is not merely proper, but mandatory. Scientific research as such, however, is not the proper province of the government.

But this is a political issue; it pertains to the money behind the lunar mission or to the method of obtaining that money, and to the project's administration; it does not affect the nature of the mission as such, it does not alter the fact that this was a superlative technological achievement.

But this sounds like a lame excuse by belittling the whole issue of financing as an unimportant detail, like "oh, I admit that it's not the proper province for the government, but what the heck, it is a magnificent achievement and that is what counts". Here she ignores the fact that without government financing the whole Apollo project would never have been realized. So she wants to have her cake and eat it too. Either you condemn government financing of science and technology or you pay a lyrical homage to a state project, but not both. In fact we see here the same inconsistency as in her view on art, when she is extremely insistent on selectivity in choosing the subject ("That which is not worth contemplating in life, is not worth re-creating in art") but cheerfully abandons that principle when she sees a painting of a crumbling wall by the third-rate artist Capuletti. So it seems that her principles are not so fundamental after all.

And would you prefer my grandfather's attitude, who met my 10-year-old's enthusiasm about the moon launch with a stern admonition that it should not have been--explaining it by quoting Genesis 1:1 and Genesis 1:28. {Hint to the puzzled: the first mentions "the heavens and the earth", and the second only mentions "the earth".) Would you prefer that?

It's quite right to laud an achievement of the human mind, however it was logistically organized and financed, especially if you subscribe to a philosophy that thinks the achievements of the human mind are the highest moral values. Or else you simply end up equating the lunar flights with the gas chambers of Treblinka and Auschwitz, which were after all technological achievements of another sort.

Jeff S.

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In another thread I talk about how I enjoyed the Apollo 11 article. It is fantastic. Best piece of non-fiction writing by her that I've encountered so far.

But that piece is another illustration of how inconsistent Rand could be. In AS the ultimate villain is Dr. Robert Stadler, the scientist who sold his soul to the Devil (the government as financier of scientific research). But in Apollo 11 she waxes quite lyrical about a scientific/technological state project.

Sure, she pays lip service to her own principles, writing:

Is it proper for the government to engage in space projects? No, it is not - except insofar as space projects involve military aspects, in which case, and to that extent, it is not merely proper, but mandatory. Scientific research as such, however, is not the proper province of the government.

But this is a political issue; it pertains to the money behind the lunar mission or to the method of obtaining that money, and to the project's administration; it does not affect the nature of the mission as such, it does not alter the fact that this was a superlative technological achievement.

But this sounds like a lame excuse by belittling the whole issue of financing as an unimportant detail, like "oh, I admit that it's not the proper province for the government, but what the heck, it is a magnificent achievement and that is what counts". Here she ignores the fact that without government financing the whole Apollo project would never have been realized. So she wants to have her cake and eat it too. Either you condemn government financing of science and technology or you pay a lyrical homage to a state project, but not both. In fact we see here the same inconsistency as in her view on art, when she is extremely insistent on selectivity in choosing the subject ("That which is not worth contemplating in life, is not worth re-creating in art") but cheerfully abandons that principle when she sees a painting of a crumbling wall by the third-rate artist Capuletti. So it seems that her principles are not so fundamental after all.

So one should blind oneself to greatness because one disagrees with the means used to realize it?

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It's quite right to laud an achievement of the human mind, however it was logistically organized and financed, especially if you subscribe to a philosophy that thinks the achievements of the human mind are the highest moral values.

Do you think Rand would have written an equally lyrical and admiring article about the launch of the Sputnik 1 in 1957? About the first manned spaceflight (Gagarin) in 1961? About the first photo of the far side of the moon? About the launch of the first space station (Salyut 1)?

After all these were all great achievements of the human mind, however they were logistically organized and financed. If one shouldn't blind oneself to greatness because one disagrees with the means used to realize it, then she should have praised these achievements too, but somehow I must have missed that.

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I hadn't thought of the Aspie thing until recently, but that is an excellent reason why some people can't stand Rand's writing style. And "can't stand" seems to bear out with the vast majority of those (I am aware of) who say they have an Aspie condition.

Nay, nay. This Old Aspie has loved science fiction since he was a kid. I grew up reading pulp sci fi (Amazing and Fantastic). Destination Moon was my favorite motion picture for a long time. And I have even told my grandchildren what to say to Gort (Klaatu barada nikto).

One of the characteristics of classical science fiction (science fiction from the era of Heinlein, Sturgeon, Anderson and the like) is that it is not introspective. It is action and idea oriented, hence the appeal to Nerds, Geeks, Weirdos and Aspies. (I qualified as all of the foregoing).

For the record, I enjoyed AS as alternate time line fiction (my favorite genre), more than as a philosopical treatise. Of this genre I have enjoyed -Bring the Jubilee- by Ward Moore (which would have happened if the South won the War Between the States?), for example. And I enjoy the alternate time line works of S.M.Stirling (I swear to god Stirling's hot breath pulsating lesbo scenes have nothing to do with it, and I read Playboy for the political articles), and Harry Turtledove.

Ba'al Chatzaf

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Subject: The Story's the Thing

Even though Dragonfly has an annoying tendency to play 'gotcha' and nitpick on small issues and not step back and see the wider picture [in regard to me on another thread, more importantly in regard to Rand on many occasions], he is the only one who has made an extended point by point rebuttal completely disagreeing with my long post entitled "The Greatness and Power of Atlas Shrugged". I guess it's a form of visibility to have mud thrown at you in great quantities and with very precise aim? :rolleyes::-) Seriously though, agree or disagree with the arguments, you have no idea how refreshing it is to read a substantive critique - after seeing what passes for thoroughgoing debate lately.

DF's position is that he doesn't think much of the book==> "almost all the characters are cardboard"...Francisco should have been angry that Dagny chose Rearden, and both should have been angry that she ultimately chose Galt... Galt's speech is "extremely boring"... Rand's satirical elements (or just the repartee?) is too "one-sided"...that "all" the heroes and beautiful, all the villains have snarky names, etc. And, in almost a diametrically view from mine that part of the greatness and power of Atlas is the ambitiousness, the integration of both a page-turning story and original characters with a new view of philosophy, his view is the book is not only "too preachy" but not successful -either- as philosophy or as a novel.

But before addressing his specific criticisms, I want to talk about the most central feature of a novel: the story. This is not quite the same thing as "plot", which Rand emphasizes in her literary criticism. It's wider. If someone asked you to tell them the story in Harry Potter, that would be a different question, with all its twists and turns and gathering around a campfire or sitting and listening to all the stpes than if someone asked you what the plot was. That would be an abstract summary.

The story is a key to the greatness and power of Atlas Shrugged. More than any smaller issue of whether a character is too cardboard or a satire too one-sided or a speech too long. It's the spinal column. What everything hangs off of or comes from. Does the story work? Does it keep you reading? Is it memorable? Is it original or at least imaginative or clever? Told in the thousand-plus pages of Atlas is complex, many-faceted, with many sub-stories. And it builds. Knowing the story, it's not quite the same reading it a second time and you may tend not to remember the ride it took you on the first time. All the puzzling events. The clever things which only made sense many pages later.

If DF or anyone else wants to contest the brilliance and power of the story itself. Or isn't clear what I mean, that would be a -very- long post. But I'll just mention a few aspects: Rand starts by showing you a world that is somewhat disorienting. A lot more things have gone wrong than we see around us. The people are beaten down, Something is wrong. It's hard to find quality in things or people. People are vanishing. There are questions, feelings of dread. There is a brilliant, wealthy man, who is capable of doing so much productively but who would rather play marbles on his carpet. There are recurrent symbols and metaphors of suffering Greek heroes, of lost continents. What is skillful is that the identifications, the answers are given in layers. Very general or very broad at first...and then ascending in detail and precision in the minds of Dagny and Hank..and in little teasers from Francisco..and finally made explicit in a great speech. And then characters struggle to identify - not just missing men: a great inventor and a destroyer [one of the great clever things in the story is that they turn out to be the same man, and he has been appearing throughout the novel, just under the radar] - or what's wrong with a marriage and a family - but missing even broader abstract ideas and explanations.

That's only part of the effectiveness, the power of the story. But it's enough to make it clear that, unless Rand totally blew it in telling the story [hint: she didn't!], that's enough to trump many, many smaller weaknesses of the book. (Or, in some cases, imagined weaknesses).

Edited by Philip Coates
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This idea of focusing first or so primarily on the story just fully occurred to me this week as I was thinking of my reply to Dragonfly. (One reason I love discussing if I have an intellectual adversary or co-conspirator, it makes me think.)

I haven't read any of the three books of essays on Atlas (Will Thomas, Younkins, Mayhew). Has anyone here read them? Is my view that the story is what requires the most discussion, most essay writing, is central to literary criticism a mainstream view? Or at least a mainstream one among Oist essayists? Does anyone take that position in the Atlas essays?

I did read an excellent piece by Bidinotto from TNI, but I don't recall the details or that idea of the 'story as trump card' (or dominant or central) as being advocated or central there.

,,,,,

If someone disagrees with the centrality of story to literary evaluation, I hope they will post and explain fully. How frequently in lit ought story to be neglected or shunted aside? I am open to being corrected. Especially in a thoughtful or evidence-offering manner. If someone disagrees with the centrality of story to literary evaluation, I hope they will post and explain fully. How frequently in lit ought story to be neglected or shunted aside? I am open to being corrected. Especially in a thoughtful or evidence-offering manner. But if it's a "one-liner" or a snarkism or a ha-ha-ha, please step away from the keyboard. Go get drunk and read a comic book instead... <_<

Edited by Philip Coates
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[

Do you think Rand would have written an equally lyrical and admiring article about the launch of the Sputnik 1 in 1957? About the first manned spaceflight (Gagarin) in 1961? About the first photo of the far side of the moon? About the launch of the first space station (Salyut 1)?

After all these were all great achievements of the human mind, however they were logistically organized and financed. If one shouldn't blind oneself to greatness because one disagrees with the means used to realize it, then she should have praised these achievements too, but somehow I must have missed that.

Of course, she did not write such articles, and had no reason to.

Are you so desperate to find something contradictory in Rand that you are willing to ignore the radical difference in the USA and the Soviet Union in the times under consideration (late 1950x and early 1960s)? I regard that as a total lack of perspective. To take such a point of view is to regard the USA as being in a position of moral equivalence with the Soviet Union.

Bill P (who is amazed at the ability of topics to mutate (or be hijacked))

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I would have to reread RM, but I recall Rand as saying the most important thing in fiction is plot, plot, plot. What I am saying, I guess, is the most important thing is story, story, story.

The whole story in all its development and detail and fleshing out. Not just the plot. But its execution.

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If someone disagrees with the centrality of story to literary evaluation, I hope they will post and explain fully. How frequently in lit ought story to be neglected or shunted aside? I am open to being corrected. Especially in a thoughtful or evidence-offering manner. If someone disagrees with the centrality of story to literary evaluation, I hope they will post and explain fully. How frequently in lit ought story to be neglected or shunted aside? I am open to being corrected. Especially in a thoughtful or evidence-offering manner. But if it's a "one-liner" or a snarkism or a ha-ha-ha, please step away from the keyboard. Go get drunk and read a comic book instead... <_<

I don't necessarily disagree with your contention, but I think a truly great novel has at least one other thing: central characters who are come across as vivid human beings: you wouldn't be surprised to meet them one day, walking down the street or in the grocery store. The author does the characterization do well that they live outside the bounds of the novel. There doesn't have to be many of these characters--probably only one or two is actually necessary--but they have to be there to let the life focus inside the story. Without them, it becomes at best a piece of clever writing.

Reverting to the idea of the "story" in Rand--I think I know why some people react negatively to AS. She has a mannered way of writing--trying to make everything count--that can allow the "story" to get submerged in the minds of some readers despite the author's intentions.

Edited by jeffrey smith
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Are you so desperate to find something contradictory in Rand that you are willing to ignore the radical difference in the USA and the Soviet Union in the times under consideration (late 1950x and early 1960s)? I regard that as a total lack of perspective. To take such a point of view is to regard the USA as being in a position of moral equivalence with the Soviet Union.

The argument that was brought up on this forum was that we should praise human achievement, regardless how it was realized:

It's quite right to laud an achievement of the human mind, however it was logistically organized and financed..
So one should blind oneself to greatness because one disagrees with the means used to realize it?

The technological feats by the Soviets I mentioned are certainly great achievements, no less than the Apollo mission. Now I understand of course that Rand wasn't eager to praise Russian achievements, but she has no scruples when it comes to praise lyrically the American space program. Yet this represents exactly what she most fiercely condemned in AS (in the person of Dr. Stadler), namely state science/technology, and that is what's bothering me. She brushes aside this objection as some mere detail, but that's not what it is. The Apollo mission would never have been realized without government finance, so that's no mere detail that can be ignored.

About the remark that I would be "so desperate to find something contradictory in Rand": that is psychologizing. I'm not "desperate" to do such a thing, but when I see an inconsistency, a contradiction or hypocrisy in the writings of any writer or philosopher, especially when these writings are themselves praised to the skies, I'll put a spotlight on this aspect, regardless how esteemed he or she is. Of course such an attitude is not popular with cultists who cannot accept any criticisms of their guru, but they shouldn't blame the messenger.

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Dragonfly -

I just can't get past the context on this one. The Soviet regime was a monstrous one, responsible for so much evil. Contrary to the USA regime.

Were all of the space explorations impressive events - of course. But I can't see much cause for lauding or praising the achievements of an evil empire, even though the achievements are technologically impressive.

Bill P

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Dragonfly -

I just can't get past the context on this one. The Soviet regime was a monstrous one, responsible for so much evil. Contrary to the USA regime.

Were all of the space explorations impressive events - of course. But I can't see much cause for lauding or praising the achievements of an evil empire, even though the achievements are technologically impressive.

Bill P

The brilliance of some scientific and mathematical achievements are so great that the light drowns out anything else. If the Soviets had achieved controlled nuclear fusion, everyone one would be asking - "How can I get one of those?". The evil of the government that financed the (hypothetical) achievement would not have mattered a bit. Some feats simply drown out and dwarf all other considerations. That is the way it is, sometimes.

Ba'al Chatzaf

Edited by BaalChatzaf
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> a truly great novel has at least one other thing: central characters who are come across as vivid human beings: you wouldn't be surprised to meet them one day, walking down the street or in the grocery store. The author does the characterization so well that they live outside the bounds of the novel. There doesn't have to be many of these characters--probably only one or two is actually necessary--but they have to be there to let the life focus inside the story. Without them, it becomes at best a piece of clever writing. [Jeffrey]

Well put. If no character is more than a single walking abstraction or is a cipher, like in many sci fi "action" stories I've read, they won't stick with you any longer than cartoons do. But the characterization needed is determined by the particular story. Story ==> Characterization (nature, story, level). Sometimes, of course, the story is the nature and development of a particular person.

> Reverting to the idea of the "story" in Rand--I think I know why some people react negatively to AS. She has a mannered way of writing--trying to make everything count--that can allow the "story" to get submerged

Can you give examples of what you mean by the underlined part?

Edited by Philip Coates
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> Reverting to the idea of the "story" in Rand--I think I know why some people react negatively to AS. She has a mannered way of writing--trying to make everything count--that can allow the "story" to get submerged

Can you give examples of what you mean by the underlined part?

Someone upthread commented on the fact that Rand tried to make every last detail connect to the main theme(s) of the novel--I think it was Michelle. Trying to do that can overload the story--or at least the reader.

Since the only part of the novel that's actually fresh in my head is those first opening pages, I'll refer only to a couple of things there. One "for instance" is her twice repeated reference to the economic hard times in the shape of empty storefronts and empty offices (the stores that Eddie walks by and the office space in the Taggart building); and her reference to the pack of busy typist in the Taggart offices (I presume that indicates that the firm is still prosperous despite the prevailing economic conditions)--I suspect most writers would have only one of those references in there (or at least space them farther apart).

Then there's the mayor's calendar in the air, which is so intrusive on the narrative because it Obviously Means Something and stops the reader in his tracks while he tries to figure out what Rand means with it, and then gives up because there's nothing in the context to indicate what function she will assign to it as the novel goes on. (Well, at least it stopped me in my tracks...)

To be clear, I don't think this is a flaw. As I said, I like Charles Williams* immensely, and he's just as mannered, sometimes even more mannered. But for some readers, it is a problem, and it can cause some people to find the story submerged beneath a mass of details they can't properly digest.

*Like this, which is the first two paragraphs of All Hallows' Eve.

She was standing on Westminster Bridge. It was twilight, but the City was no longer dark. The street lamps along the Embankment were still dimmed, but in the buildings shutters and blinds and curtains had been removed or left undrawn, and the lights were coming out there like the first faint stars above. Those lights were the peace. It was true that formal peace was not yet in being; all that had happened was that the fighting had ceased. The enemy, as enemy, no longer existed and one more crisis of agony was done. Labor, intelligence, patience--much need for these; and much certainty of boredom and suffering and misery, but no longer the sick vigils and daily despair.

Lester Furnival stood and looked at the City while the twilight deepened. The devastated areas were hidden; much was to be done but could be. In the distance she could hear an occasional plane. Its sound gave her a greater relief than the silence. It was precisely not dangerous; it promised a truer safety than all the squadrons of fighters and bombers had held. Something was ended and those remote engines told her so. The moon was not risen; the river was dark below. She put her on the parapet and looked at it; it should make no more bandages if she could help it. It was not a bad hand, though it was neither so clean nor so smooth as it had been years ago, before the war. It was twenty-five now and to her that seemed a great age, She went on looking at it for a great while, in the silence and the peace, until it occurred to her that the silence was very prolonged, except for that recurrent solitary plane. No one, all the time she had been standing there, had crossed the bridge; no voice, no step, no car had sounded in the deepening night.

There isn't a single detail in there which doesn't relate to the overall imagery and theme of the novel: even the fact that "City" is capitalized means something--it's not a reference to the area technically known as the City in London geography. (Westminster Bridge is probably a reference to Wordsworth's sonnet.) The "something [which] was ended" is not just the war (WWII was ending or ended as Williams wrote this novel, which was his last one) but Lester's life, courtesy of the plane she's hearing over and over, which is not dangerous only in the sense that it can't kill her a second time (by crashing into the street where was she was standing)--but the truer safety is what eventually Lester discovers over the course of the book, once she realizes that she's actually dead (via an encounter with her still living husband which is described in a way that focuses on those hands) a few pages into the story.

That's not the only thread of the story, of course. For instance, there's the magician who has created two magical clones as part of an attempt to take over the world, and his daughter, who is Lester's friend and whom he wants to kill--also as part of his scheme, and a woman named Evelyn, a pseudo friend of Lester who was killed with her, and who ends up finding the "second death" in opposition to Lester finding "the new life" (Williams' title for the first chapter, and which undoubtedly is a reference to Dante's first book).

(Yes, it is a "Christian" novel, but nothing like the LaHaye-Jenkins stuff that dominated the market a few years ago.)

Edited by jeffrey smith
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> mannered. But for some readers, it is a problem, and it can cause some people to find the story submerged beneath a mass of details they can't properly digest [Jeffrey]

I'll try to have more to say on this later, but I'm on my way out the door. Some first reactions: I like the passage you quoted. I don't like the word 'mannered', it doesn't bring up any context for me, so I'm going to talk about degree of detail and exploration in a book. The passage doesn't seem too detailed. Especially when you give some explanation of the book.

Also, as far as the establishment view, literary criticism, what professors are impressed by: there seems to be a lot of correlation between the degree of detail, as measured in the length of a novel, and novels that are considered great. Big, heavy tomes by Dostoevsky and Tolstoy (Karamazov, War and Peace, etc.) or Henry James or Dreiser. In senior year of college I took an American Literature course. I wonder whether "Tom Sawyer" would be considered a great novel if it was as much of a doorstop as "An American Tragedy"?Heavy details in the French novelists (was it Flaubert or Balzac) who describe every item and thing that happened in minute detail. Hugo with his long historical digressions. Les Miz, etc.

I'd normally rather a book be too long than too short. To really flesh out something, immerse you more thoroughly in the author's world and people. You can always skim a huge historical aside. But if something necessary is not there....

Edited by Philip Coates
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If DF or anyone else wants to contest the brilliance and power of the story itself. Or isn't clear what I mean, that would be a -very- long post. But I'll just mention a few aspects: Rand starts by showing you a world that is somewhat disorienting. A lot more things have gone wrong than we see around us. The people are beaten down, Something is wrong. It's hard to find quality in things or people. People are vanishing. There are questions, feelings of dread. There is a brilliant, wealthy man, who is capable of doing so much productively but who would rather play marbles on his carpet. There are recurrent symbols and metaphors of suffering Greek heroes, of lost continents. What is skillful is that the identifications, the answers are given in layers. Very general or very broad at first...and then ascending in detail and precision in the minds of Dagny and Hank..and in little teasers from Francisco..and finally made explicit in a great speech. And then characters struggle to identify - not just missing men: a great inventor and a destroyer [one of the great clever things in the story is that they turn out to be the same man, and he has been appearing throughout the novel, just under the radar] - or what's wrong with a marriage and a family - but missing even broader abstract ideas and explanations.

That's only part of the effectiveness, the power of the story. But it's enough to make it clear that, unless Rand totally blew it in telling the story [hint: she didn't!], that's enough to trump many, many smaller weaknesses of the book. (Or, in some cases, imagined weaknesses).

I think that the first part of AS is the best and that it later deteriorates, with the last part being the weakest. I think an explanation might be that AS was started primarily as a novel, a literary project, and that over the years in the course of writing it, Rand switched more and more to the preach mode, probably inspired by the story itself. As you say, in the beginning there is some mystery, the characters still have the potential to develop into human beings. For example, Jim Taggart is clearly an unpleasant character, but he isn't yet the caricature he'll become later in the book. Gradually the story becomes more schematic however, the persons more onedimensional. The last part is the worst. All the bad guys have become caricatures who yell and scream at every adversity and who finally crumble at the light of reason into dust like Dracula at the sight of the cross. I find those scenes really childish and I felt even embarrassed when I read it for the first time, when I was much less critical than I'm now. I remember that my mother, who read AS at my instigation and was also enthusiastic in general, was critical of the last part and found also the story in the gulch a bit too much, unrealistic and more like a fairy tale.

Some typical passages: "Shut up!" he screamed in terror (Jim); "You can't quit!" his mother screamed in blind panic (Rearden's mother); "Let me out of here!" screamed a young third-rate assistant; "No!" screamed Eugene Lawson. "Not me! I don't want to see him at all! Not once! I don't want to have to believe it!"; He had screamed in blind terror (Dr. Stadler); "Oh God, Floyd!" he screamed (Wesley Mouch); And then it was Taggart who screamed. It was a long, sudden, piercing scream, as if at some sudden sight, though his eyes were staring at space and seemed blankly sightless; "Let me out of here!" screamed the youngest [guard].

When the cavalry arrives, mentioning the name of the hero is enough to disarm the bad guys:

In time with the fall of the man's body, the window burst into a shower of glass—and from the limb of a tree, as from a catapult, the tall, slender figure of a man flew into the room, landed on its feet and fired at the first guard in reach.

"Who are you?", screamed some terror-blinded voice.

"Ragnar Danneskjöld."

Three sounds answered him: a long, swelling moan of panic—the clatter of four guns dropped to the floor—and the bark of the fifth, fired by a guard at the forehead of the chief.

I find this really bad writing, it sounds more like some comic strip of Superman or whatever those supernatural heroes are called. Catapulting from a tree right through a glass window, landing unharmed on your feet and disarming everyone merely by mentioning you're Ragnar Danneskjöld... sorry, but that's a bit too much for me. It's as if Rand is living in her own fantasy, where all evil people are powerless cowards, always panicking and screaming in terror when problems arise. Perhaps some people enjoy such fantasies, but I prefer more realistic villains.

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When the cavalry arrives, mentioning the name of the hero is enough to disarm the bad guys:

In time with the fall of the man's body, the window burst into a shower of glass—and from the limb of a tree, as from a catapult, the tall, slender figure of a man flew into the room, landed on its feet and fired at the first guard in reach.

"Who are you?", screamed some terror-blinded voice.

"Ragnar Danneskjöld."

Three sounds answered him: a long, swelling moan of panic—the clatter of four guns dropped to the floor—and the bark of the fifth, fired by a guard at the forehead of the chief.

I find this really bad writing, it sounds more like some comic strip of Superman or whatever those supernatural heroes are called. Catapulting from a tree right through a glass window, landing unharmed on your feet and disarming everyone merely by mentioning you're Ragnar Danneskjöld... sorry, but that's a bit too much for me. It's as if Rand is living in her own fantasy, where all evil people are powerless cowards, always panicking and screaming in terror when problems arise. Perhaps some people enjoy such fantasies, but I prefer more realistic villains.

Dragonfly, you might enjoy the first 40 seconds of this:

It's my all-time favorite scene of a hero disarming a villain's guards.

J

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