As a political jeremiad, cry de coeur, manifesto, Atlas is more prescient today than when it was written in '57. Its calls for the greatness of capitalism, the misguided attempts to sacrifice for others, and the victimization of those who achieve can't help but resonate with any astute follower of global trends.

As a philosophical examination of Man. Well it's meh. Read Aristotle or Socrates, Stoic vs Epicureans, Kierkegaard and Nietzsche and one comes to the conclusion that no philosophy can encompass the complexities of life and to try to enunciate a system is unwise and hubristic.

As a Story, one that has characters, setting, and a plot, Atlas is a failure of Grand Guignol proportions - so bad one can't look away. The setting is some kind of retro-future, like steam punk say, but mixed with the anachronisms of railroad and radio reliance, while noting the spread of socialism across the globe. The characters are a manichean assemblage of Warriors and wussies. The heroes, perfect in body, mind, and soul - A Justice League of America made real, who never fart, or joke, whose every action is met with the grandest of proclamations on how something like holding a pen reveals the probity of their souls. The bad are worms without redeeming qualities who are sniveling weaklings whose only talent seems to be speaking in the cant of Orwell's 1984.
Finally the plot is too ridiculous, too contrived even to assault. Maybe the best example is when two people suddenly decide to take a drive across America, where they search out an abandoned factory, where they discover the unfinished super engine that will be a godsend to humanity. They are not engineers, but they can see what the machine will do, the machine isn't workable but it's tantalizingly close. Its origins just happen to answer the question of Who is John Galt?

Last thing, and Rand would appreciate this bc what I'm writing is so concrete. The book is almost 1200 pages long! That's okay, It's manageable, but what nearly broke me is the one chapter where a man gives a speech that stretches over 60 PAGES!That is just R O N G or is it just John Galt?

Read:
1. For the strongest argument for being selfish.

2. As of 1, to redefine how selfish or 'selfless' you are.

Do not read:
1. You are impatient, physically weak, or can't stand an author using fiction to make a political/philosophical statement.

2. You would not read something socially disfavourable even if you thought it may raise a few good points. You cannot praise parts of an ideology, you must value the entire ideology and it must be one that clearly works for the lifestyle of any individual of any era and place (as few do).

3. You cannot forgive an author for sacrificing ambience for clarity. For example, you cannot tolerate seeing the inner thoughts of otherwise simple characters, or a lengthy (dull) monologue which reiterates explicitly all the points the author wishes to make in the novel. It's a bit like forgiving someone for explaining a joke.

4. You could not like having a cold emotional distance from your characters, or the same towards themselves.

5. You do not like to read serious fiction, or refuse to have your life perspective challenged by fictious plots; you rarely read for guidance or thinking but just easy-going enjoyment or distraction. You read for scenes, but not for their fables. You do not often think about whether the events in a book, no matter how extreme or even unfavourable, can/could/should occur in reality.

6. You cannot value texts devoid of interesting, varied, complex, implicit or highly descriptive language or syntax; Rand writes as (I think) her philosophy (objectivism) implies: all that is 'subjective' can and should only be valued for it's 'objective' properties (colour/distance/form/shape/time). No fancy writing here, but I think that's the point!

I'm not going to tell you what to do with this book, though many people enjoy telling others that they threw it out of buildings or moving vehicles. Take that as a sign of its power. If you value your independence, find it and form your own judgement. If you dislike this book, you will at least develop your being by asking yourself to explain as clearly and assuredly as you can, why.

In early 1945, Ayn Rand embarked on the work which would eventually be considered her literary masterpiece. With a working title of The Strike, she diligently filled numerous notebooks, detailing her characters, plot, and theme, amongst others. Not for an audience, "but strictly for herself--that is, for the clarity of her own understanding," writes her literary executor, Leonard Peikoff.
"These journals are also a fascinating record of the step-by-step birth of an immortal work of art."


The opening sentence is one of sheer brilliance. The question, "Who is John Galt?," reels the reader in instantaneously, and is very reluctant to let up. The question really resonates. Partly due to its simplicity, Rand's detail orientated, incredibly vivid prose kept me reading, completely in awe of her skillful way with with words. More importantly, the classic inquiry is voiced time and again, which serves to further elevate the overall mystery and suspense, without becoming tedious.


The novel is populated with several diverse, well-developed characters. One such individual, Dagny Taggart, is a personal favorite. Superficiality aside, I love her for her unwavering convictions and determination, despite the fact that her somewhat shady actions oftentimes prove detrimental to her reputation (not that she cares.) I truly admire her, not solely for her bravery, but also for her flaws.


According to Rand's notes, "..the prime movers going on strike" is "the actual heart and center of the novel." (Per her husband's suggestion in 1956, she changed the title to Atlas Shrugged.) With that in mind, I wholeheartedly agree with her estimation. Its basic premise revolves around the industrialists, or 'prime movers,' and their stand against the nation's greedy politicians.


Throughout my reading of Atlas Shrugged, I was consistently amazed by its relevance, even today, 56 years after publication. For instance, there's an almost overwhelming darkness to Rand's world. Much of that bleakness stems from a declining economic state. There are no middle-class; employment is scarce; only the elite can afford new automobiles (I don't even think that new vehicles are in production.) All in all, a general sense of hopelessness. Despair. Fear.



With the discovery of a motor, dubbed "the motor of the world," the story takes a drastic change in Part II, an essential change for the better, IMO.
Additional characters are introduced, older ones are further developed, and more intrigue abounds. Virtually every aspect seems to be in a perpetual downward spiral.


Then, in Part III, things grow increasingly worse, while coming full-circle all at once.


As captivating as that all sounds, Rand blatantly ignores the most basic rule of good writing: "Show, Don't Tell." She breaks the cardinal rule, on countless occasions. For the most part, this is done to inform the reader of the deteriorating state of her world. If she had "shown" every significant event happening throughout the U.S., the novel would have become bogged down, and as a result, drag on an additional 200 pages.
I am, however, a firm believer in summarization. She could have, perhaps should have, refrained from "telling" through dialogue. As interesting as said dialogue is, much of it should have been omitted.
A significantly less verbose prose would have resulted in an easier, smoother-flowing story, thus strengthened the novel drastically. I really wish she would have been less wordy, and by doing, incorporate additional, more telling scenes.


Particularly in Parts II and III, Rand is very didactic. This is also a big literary no-no. She uses multiple characters to express the author's personal beliefs, commonly known as Objectivism. Essentially, she believed in selfishness as virtue.

Incredibly, her characters don't read as caricatures to me. They are clearly voicing the author's beliefs (as mentioned above,) but at the same time, they felt completely real. I cared about them, grieved alongside them, rooted for them. In essence, I joined their epic journey. I don't know if I've ever gotten to know such characters, in quite the same way.

Here's a helpful link:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Objectiv...


For further insight into Rand's mind-set and philosophy, check out the complete Mike Wallace interview, conducted in 1959, two years after the publication of Atlas Shrugged. Thank you, again, to my good friend, Jessa Caliver.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ooKsv...



Now, prior to arriving at the denouement, I admittedly had my reservations in regards to a satisfying ending. This epic tome is wholly unpredictable, and so it really could have ended in a variety of ways. Fortunately, the final three chapters (90 pages) literally catapults everything into full disarray. There were even a few jaw-dropping moments. I wasn't a bit disappointed.




I found the final section to be utterly breathtaking. Beautiful. It's a very suiting ending, one I wouldn't change for the life of me.

Just take a look at the first paragraph, and judge for yourself.


"The music of Richard Halley's Fifth Concerto streamed from his keyboard, past the glass of the window, and spread through the air, over the lights of the valley. It was a symphony of triumph. The notes flowed up, they spoke of rising and they were the rising itself, they were the essence and the form of upward motion, they seemed to embody every human act and thought that has ascent as its motive. It was a sunburst of sound, breaking out of hiding and spreading open. It had the freedom of release and the tension of purpose. It swept space clean and left nothing but the joy of an unobstructed effort. Only a faint echo within the sounds spoke of that from which the music had escaped, but spoke in laughing astonishment at the discovery that there was no ugliness or pain, and there never had to be. It was the song of an immense deliverance."


Beautiful, isn't it?






I'm kind of going through withdrawals, in a way that hasn't saddened me in quite the same way before.... I miss the characters so very much..
It's like severing a lifelong friendship...

Any Rand's ego-driven jungle ME ME ME capitalism is just as repressive and destructive as cod-communism and cod-socialism. Plus it rapes the planet and only serves the super-rich.

GREED is truly the most terrible challenge of our times, and capitalism is its tool, its means to power and more greed.

Greed is a (contagious) mental illness, an unfillable hole, a hunger that denies justice, a brutal expression of broken egos.

Greed is having a million times as much as the poor and still feeling you don't have enough.

Greed consumes the earth without respite, and is a cancer on humanity.

Greed destroys us and our children and their future.

Greed is death.

Based on everything I've heard about Rand, in conversation and online, from her supporters and her detractors, or in interviews with the author or articles by her, I feel there is no reason to believe that this book or any of her others contain anything that is worth reading, not even as 'cautionary example'. Nothing about it sounds the least bit appealing or reasoned.

Watching interviews of Rand, herself, I wonder if she wasn't somewhere on the autism spectrum--her entire Objectivist philosophy seems like the sort of approach autistic people have to develop to deal with a world full of emotions, sympathies, and signals they cannot recognize or comprehend. The fact that this philosophy has since been picked up by Silicon Valley culture, itself notorious for high levels of autism, seems logically to follow.

Likewise, it would have an appeal for certain types of sociopaths, who also do not feel strong sympathy or emotional connection. Objectivism can thus be seen as a kind of justification for the lives they choose to leave: isolating themselves, putting work and financial achievement above social life, using others to get ahead, then blaming them for being emotionally open, and hence susceptible to manipulation.

It's unfortunate that Rand's method focuses on brutalizing, blaming, and denying people who are unlike her, instead of working with them and trying to understand them--recognizing and cherishing those differences, the fact that a society requires many different types of people to run effectively.

But then, looking at her life, and her inner circle--the isolation, disappointment, depression, and awkward love affairs as depicted in something like Adam Curtis' Documentary n  All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Gracen, one sees a Rand who is wounded, alienated, and fragile--a far cry from the philosophy of power and dominance she wrapped around herself like armor--so of course she would lash out at the world and blame it.

There is also a curious parallel between her representation of the world and the moral certitude and will to power of modern fantasy novels. She seems to engage in the same sort of 'worldbuilding', where characters and events are structured to uplift a certain philosophy of life, where the story is abandoned for long passages to explain in minute detail the finer points of the constructed world.

As such, it's not surprising that she attracts a similar fanbase with her doorstop novels: a group of privileged middle class white folks who feel disaffected and are looking for a mythology structured around them and their struggles, which justifies their biases, privilege, and preferred way of life.

So, as nothing about any of her works has ever sounded appealing or interesting to me, and since my goal here is to read as many good books as possible and to do my best to avoid bad ones, it seems best to give Rand a wide berth.

Favorite Quotes

He walked, groping for a sentence that hung in his mind as an empty shape. He could neither fill it or dismiss it.

She sat listening to the music. It was a symphony of triumph. The notes flowed up, they spoke of rising and they were the rising itself, they were the essence and the form of upward motion, they seemed to embody every human act and thought that had ascent as its motive. It was a sunburst of sound, breaking out of hiding and spreading open. It had the freedom of release and the tension of purpose. It swept space clean, and left nothing but the joy of an unobstructed effort. Only a faint echo within the sounds spoke of that from which the music had escaped, but spoke in laughing astonishment at the discovery that there was no ugliness or pain, and there never had to be. It was the song of an immense deliverance.

He, too, stood looking at her for a moment--and it seemed to her that it was not a look of greeting after an absence, but the look of someone who had thought of her every day of that year. She could not be certain, it was only an instant, so brief that just as she caught it, he was turning...

But this was that view of human destiny which she had most passionately hated and rejected: the view that man was ever to be drawn by some vision of the unattainable shining ahead, doomed ever to aspire, but not to achieve. Her life and her values could not bring her to that, she thought; she had never found beauty in longing for the impossible and had never found the possible to be beyond her reach.

I heard about Ayn Rand for years. Now I've finally read The Famous Book. 'Atlas Shrugged' is SO ridiculous on EVERY level. It's a poorly written shrill operatic infomercial written by an evangelical fool suffering from Jerusalem Syndrome with an idea she hopes will bring on the cleansing apocalypse. Why does America elevate these well-dressed haters of humanity? Can't people see the nihilism, the suicidal self-hatred underlying her ideas?

I can't believe she has any fans. Those who adore this book seem mesmerized by her simplistic and ignorant ideas of economics, politics and history. But the tone-deaf psychology, scapegoating and witch-burning, and the engineer(ed) sex by blueprint-chart efficiency are particularly repellent and disgusting. The fact people believe anything really effective or constructive can be derived from the utterly falsified representations for class rage in this book is a fantasy. That the book is felt by many to be articulating: 1. a righteous path to what is essentially a philosophical justification for eugenics-like cures for the ills of Humanity; or 2. that the causes of the ills of Humanity is only from an underlying laziness/gullibility of certain social classes of people combined with a jealous greed for wealth without earning it; and 3. a complete silence on the actual causes of social class dissatisfaction/distress - a lack of access to resources which would level the playing field, a lopsided distribution of wealth and labor, and social/religious prejudices, is appalling.

Rand demonizes the less gifted and the underclasses simply because they want the benefits of extreme wealth the same as the wealthy enjoy, too. She does not acknowledge any of the actual resource inequalities between classes which dampen/make impossible ambition for people other than the fictional scenarios she dramatizes. Rand would clearly despise babies on philosophical grounds because they are weak and do not take care of themselves, and keeping pets would be indefensible.

I'm so depressed.

Seriously? People think this is a well-written book with something to say?

I don't want to ruin the ending for anyone who hasn't read it, but it goes a little something like this: the narrative "heroes" of the book end up flying over the country watching it burn, millions dying, feeling smug about having righted an egregious wrong: people didn't acknowledge their superiority.

The message of the book was that there are people who are inherently better than most and that the world should bow to them and let them run the world.

Give me a break.

I just don't like Ayn Rand. Her world view offends me at a visceral level. Her writing is serviceable so kudos to her editor.

This is not a good book. 1 star.

I read this book in about 1961. It was the must read book of the day among my group of quasi-whatever we were (not intellectuals of any persuasion I might add) and I struggled through it to the bitter end, telling anyone who would listen that it was the most important book of the century. Yeah, like I would know this at the tender age of 20?!

What it was, was BIG - 1100 and something pages - and while I was quite adept at posing with book in hand and able to quote some John Galt verbatim, I really understood absolutely nothing about the incredibly selfish philosophy of Objectivism. This book of essential reading was as dry as a dead dingo's donger and just as interesting. In later years, as I read and studied more, I came to realise just what Ayn Rand and Nathaniel Brand were on about and Atlas Shrugged became a personal memento of the shallow crassness of me and my youthful peers in the late fifties and early sixties.

20/01/2021 Addendum:
I am indebted to GR stalwart, Michael Perkins, for this quote which I copied from his review of Atlas Shrugged:
n  “There are two novels that can change a bookish fourteen-year old’s life: The Lord of the Rings and Atlas Shrugged. One is a childish fantasy that often engenders a lifelong obsession with its unbelievable heroes, leading to an emotionally stunted, socially crippled adulthood, unable to deal with the real world. The other, of course, involves orcs.” – John Rogersn

28/09/2021 Addendum:
And thank you, Michael, for alerting me to this great comment about Atlas Shrugged:
n  “I have always found it quaint and rather touching that there is a movement in the US that thinks Americans are not yet selfish enough.” - Christopher Hitchensn

5 Stars for Atlas Shrugged (audiobook) Ayn Rand read by Scott Brick. This is such a epic story. I wonder about Ayn Rand’s life and what she went through to inspire such a book. This is the second time I’ve listened to this audiobook. I realized this time it’s an early dystopian novel. This book was written more than sixty years ago and many of the principles are still relevant today.
Scott Brick, the narrator, is such a pro. This couldn’t have been easy to record. He has the perfect tone for this story.