In a (somewhat desperate) bid to secure my tier status for this semester, I'm going to write a brief review of Anthem, the acclaimed political novella by objectivist author and nigh-on libertarian demigoddess Ayn Rand. To begin with, I'll say that I approve of neither the author nor her philosophies. She was a flagrant and unapologetically self-interested elitist who generally expressed nothing but contempt for the common people and their most cherished beliefs; the only thing she despised more than religion was charity.
That having been said, Anthem is phenomenal literature. The plot is well crafted and thought provoking, the struggle of the protagonist against the oppression of the state is compelling, and the 11th chapter is the single most rousing political manifesto I've ever read - easily the finest document ever rendered in support of objectivism or any other 20th century philosophy.
Although the vessel might be beautiful, however, the draught is bitter. While I can definitely rejoice in the celebration of the self, it seems unnatural - even unholy -that it should come at the expense of community. The flaw with Rand's political theory is the same that dogs all post-modern thought: the trivialization of human relationships. Whether they are reduced to economic transactions as in Marxism or simply explained away as mutually beneficial but largely unnecessary interactions based on the satisfaction of sexual or emotional urges as in Randian philosophy, relationships that should be meaningful and spiritually powerful are discounted by the communist and anti-communist ideologues, and the gentle warmth of family and friendship is darkly metamorphosed into two stark but equally unsatisfying opposites: the sprawling, soulless hive-mind of the one-state, and the lonely narcissism of the rugged individual.
I'll stick to my small commune, thank you - and anyone who wants to come is guaranteed a place.
That having been said, Anthem is phenomenal literature. The plot is well crafted and thought provoking, the struggle of the protagonist against the oppression of the state is compelling, and the 11th chapter is the single most rousing political manifesto I've ever read - easily the finest document ever rendered in support of objectivism or any other 20th century philosophy.
Although the vessel might be beautiful, however, the draught is bitter. While I can definitely rejoice in the celebration of the self, it seems unnatural - even unholy -that it should come at the expense of community. The flaw with Rand's political theory is the same that dogs all post-modern thought: the trivialization of human relationships. Whether they are reduced to economic transactions as in Marxism or simply explained away as mutually beneficial but largely unnecessary interactions based on the satisfaction of sexual or emotional urges as in Randian philosophy, relationships that should be meaningful and spiritually powerful are discounted by the communist and anti-communist ideologues, and the gentle warmth of family and friendship is darkly metamorphosed into two stark but equally unsatisfying opposites: the sprawling, soulless hive-mind of the one-state, and the lonely narcissism of the rugged individual.
I'll stick to my small commune, thank you - and anyone who wants to come is guaranteed a place.