In Twain’s “Huckleberry Finn” (The Adventures of), Finn proclaims that he’s willing to go to hell for acting out against what society taught him was right. He fully believes that he’s going against the law and goodness when he decides to help and protect Jim from those who would enslave him. From the outside, we see that he is doing the right thing. But it’s made all the greater because he believes he will be eternally punished for doing what he believes. The moment becomes all the more powerful because he does what is right in the face of unending torment.
In “Anthem,” Rand gives us basically the same story and moment. But instead of standing against society’s belief in slavery being something good in the face of God, we get somebody standing up and declaring that they’ll embrace their evil by being arguably more evil. Okay, that’s hyperbole. They’re really just embracing their own personal desires in the face of a society that suppresses personal desires. But Rand plays it in much the same way as Twain plays Huck’s revelation. As if it’s some huge moment of tragic insight, full of a strength of character by the protagonist. And I suppose for people who often find they’ve been called an asshole on a near daily basis in their lives, this probably feels like a strong and uplifting life moment.
The main problem with this moment is that Rand’s portrayal of a future satirizing her present makes little sense. When Vonnegut created the world of “Player Piano,” he constructed a world that’s not just tangentially related to the world Vonnegut saw around him. It’s an acutely perceptive expression of that world, carefully pulled taffy-like out of the reality around him. Rand’s expression of the world around her into some future dystopia is delusional at best, a schizophrenic projection of her own insecurities and selfishness. She projects every possible failure of society onto the fact that people might actually care about other people. She sees the world becoming a worse place in inexplicable ways, simply connecting a communal viewpoint to whatever ills might possibly exist. “The future has lost all technological advancements and retreated into a medieval mindset? Oh, that’s because nobody can say the pronoun ‘I’ anymore!” There’s no connective tissue linking empathy and caring for others to her dystopia. She just proclaims, “Here is the future of a world where nobody acts on their own self-interests. It is the worst world ever.” This allows her to create a put-upon hero out of somebody who actually has desires and individual thoughts. The hero is simply somebody who thinks for themselves. Which seems like an obvious good trait to have. So how does she make it into a revelatory moment across the short novel? How does one not read this book and simply respond, “Duh!”
Well, I suppose there are people who have been told their beliefs are terrible beliefs because their beliefs are actually terrible. But they don’t think their beliefs are terrible so the other people must be sheep simply following other people’s nonsense because they can’t think for themselves. The only revelation in Rand’s story seems to be that Rand isn’t willing to explicitly detail the things society has told her she shouldn’t think. The story is all written in the most general of terms so that we can project onto the protagonist good and well-meaning individual thoughts. But in reality, the thoughts the main character is having are probably the same thoughts that, when voiced, caused other people to call them an asshole.
When the protagonist escapes from society and enters the freedom of the Uncharted Woods, they testify at one point, “We have made a bow and many arrows. We can kill more birds than we need for our food”. I mean, “Why?” Because they can? What is that about?! Seems like a waste. But I guess nobody is telling them they can’t so it’s good? To kill all those birds and let them go to waste? It was then that I started to think, “What does this protagonist actually believe that makes them better than everybody else?!” No, just kidding. I was already thinking that from the very first paragraph that’s all, “I’m a victim of society! Waah waah waah!”
The phrase “the tyranny of the majority” rang in my head pretty much the entire time I was reading this story. A phrase chanted by those who could live their life the way they want but they’re so upset about other people living their lives differently, that they simply must be angry about it. It’s as if other people living a selfish, individual life, full of their own desires which these observers do not share, is testimony to the observer’s ignorance of other people’s free will. And they hate it. “Personal freedom is the only thing,” they shout while determined to limit the personal freedom of those who don’t share their beliefs.
What I’m trying to say is this: “Suck it, Ayn Rand.”
P.S. The woman in the story isn’t allowed to have her own free and individual thoughts. She’s just there to worship the protagonist’s independent thought and to have sex with them. I mean, technically, she’s the one who sort of gets at the heart of the matter with the pronouns. But that’s expected! What kind of a man can figure out pronouns?! But after she gives him the idea, he doesn’t learn the word until he reads it in a book, probably by another man. Then he gets to choose his own name. But does he let her choose her name? No way! Screw individual thought for women! You’re Gaea, loser!
P.P.S. Some of my favorite complaints about socialism are always ones that are reflected back at the complainer in capitalism. In Rand’s future society in “Anthem,” people are forced into a job chosen for them at the age of fifteen. Sure, all their needs are taken care of but they can’t do what they want. As if that’s not also a part of capitalism! Sure, people aren’t “forced” into a job they don’t want. They’re only forced into taking a job that maybe gives them the health insurance their family needs. Or they’re swindled into debt at an early age by the trappings of capitalism and find they cannot easily leave a job which compensates for their debt and lifestyle. Rand’s protagonist’s argument is, “I wanted to be a scientist and not a street sweeper!” And that, to Rand, only happens because of the socialist world the protagonist lives in. As if that isn’t a feature in capitalism as well! How many scientists have we lost to poverty induced by systemic racism?! How many people have never pursued their dreams because of poverty and debt and economic inequality? How about we go halfsies on this, Rand? How about a world where everybody is free to do whatever they want but the people whose dreams garner them millions of dollars are taxed to pay for other people’s needs whose dreams aren’t meant to garner them millions of dollars? And they pay those taxes willingly because they believe so much in the personal freedom of others and see the goodness and need of all poets and artists, even those whose works don’t capture the imagination of the mainstream but still touch the hearts and souls of others? No? Does that infringe on your personal freedoms of not wanting to ever help another person? Well, I guess that gets pack to my thesis: “Suck it, Ayn Rand.”
P.P.P.S. At one point, the protagonist says, “I owe nothing to my brothers, nor do I gather debts from them.” This is critical to Rand’s philosophy. That she owes nothing to anybody else. That everything she has, she has earned on her own. The point of the story, by sending the protagonist out into the Uncharted Forest, is to show that the protagonist can live on their own merits. But the other half needs to be said though not shown and, willfully ignored: that the protagonist gathers no debts from their brothers. And yet the protagonist says this while living in a modern house from the Unspeakable Times, with literature that has given them the pronoun “I”. No debts owed, my Brother? Living in a house built by somebody else? Gathering knowledge from the generations who came before? Oh, yeah, okay. You definitely have created your own life yourself without any help from others at all. No debts owed! Forgive me for thinking we are social creatures and that civilization and all of our modern comforts are only feasible because we owe each other debts. Man, I think my thesis is too soft!
In “Anthem,” Rand gives us basically the same story and moment. But instead of standing against society’s belief in slavery being something good in the face of God, we get somebody standing up and declaring that they’ll embrace their evil by being arguably more evil. Okay, that’s hyperbole. They’re really just embracing their own personal desires in the face of a society that suppresses personal desires. But Rand plays it in much the same way as Twain plays Huck’s revelation. As if it’s some huge moment of tragic insight, full of a strength of character by the protagonist. And I suppose for people who often find they’ve been called an asshole on a near daily basis in their lives, this probably feels like a strong and uplifting life moment.
The main problem with this moment is that Rand’s portrayal of a future satirizing her present makes little sense. When Vonnegut created the world of “Player Piano,” he constructed a world that’s not just tangentially related to the world Vonnegut saw around him. It’s an acutely perceptive expression of that world, carefully pulled taffy-like out of the reality around him. Rand’s expression of the world around her into some future dystopia is delusional at best, a schizophrenic projection of her own insecurities and selfishness. She projects every possible failure of society onto the fact that people might actually care about other people. She sees the world becoming a worse place in inexplicable ways, simply connecting a communal viewpoint to whatever ills might possibly exist. “The future has lost all technological advancements and retreated into a medieval mindset? Oh, that’s because nobody can say the pronoun ‘I’ anymore!” There’s no connective tissue linking empathy and caring for others to her dystopia. She just proclaims, “Here is the future of a world where nobody acts on their own self-interests. It is the worst world ever.” This allows her to create a put-upon hero out of somebody who actually has desires and individual thoughts. The hero is simply somebody who thinks for themselves. Which seems like an obvious good trait to have. So how does she make it into a revelatory moment across the short novel? How does one not read this book and simply respond, “Duh!”
Well, I suppose there are people who have been told their beliefs are terrible beliefs because their beliefs are actually terrible. But they don’t think their beliefs are terrible so the other people must be sheep simply following other people’s nonsense because they can’t think for themselves. The only revelation in Rand’s story seems to be that Rand isn’t willing to explicitly detail the things society has told her she shouldn’t think. The story is all written in the most general of terms so that we can project onto the protagonist good and well-meaning individual thoughts. But in reality, the thoughts the main character is having are probably the same thoughts that, when voiced, caused other people to call them an asshole.
When the protagonist escapes from society and enters the freedom of the Uncharted Woods, they testify at one point, “We have made a bow and many arrows. We can kill more birds than we need for our food”. I mean, “Why?” Because they can? What is that about?! Seems like a waste. But I guess nobody is telling them they can’t so it’s good? To kill all those birds and let them go to waste? It was then that I started to think, “What does this protagonist actually believe that makes them better than everybody else?!” No, just kidding. I was already thinking that from the very first paragraph that’s all, “I’m a victim of society! Waah waah waah!”
The phrase “the tyranny of the majority” rang in my head pretty much the entire time I was reading this story. A phrase chanted by those who could live their life the way they want but they’re so upset about other people living their lives differently, that they simply must be angry about it. It’s as if other people living a selfish, individual life, full of their own desires which these observers do not share, is testimony to the observer’s ignorance of other people’s free will. And they hate it. “Personal freedom is the only thing,” they shout while determined to limit the personal freedom of those who don’t share their beliefs.
What I’m trying to say is this: “Suck it, Ayn Rand.”
P.S. The woman in the story isn’t allowed to have her own free and individual thoughts. She’s just there to worship the protagonist’s independent thought and to have sex with them. I mean, technically, she’s the one who sort of gets at the heart of the matter with the pronouns. But that’s expected! What kind of a man can figure out pronouns?! But after she gives him the idea, he doesn’t learn the word until he reads it in a book, probably by another man. Then he gets to choose his own name. But does he let her choose her name? No way! Screw individual thought for women! You’re Gaea, loser!
P.P.S. Some of my favorite complaints about socialism are always ones that are reflected back at the complainer in capitalism. In Rand’s future society in “Anthem,” people are forced into a job chosen for them at the age of fifteen. Sure, all their needs are taken care of but they can’t do what they want. As if that’s not also a part of capitalism! Sure, people aren’t “forced” into a job they don’t want. They’re only forced into taking a job that maybe gives them the health insurance their family needs. Or they’re swindled into debt at an early age by the trappings of capitalism and find they cannot easily leave a job which compensates for their debt and lifestyle. Rand’s protagonist’s argument is, “I wanted to be a scientist and not a street sweeper!” And that, to Rand, only happens because of the socialist world the protagonist lives in. As if that isn’t a feature in capitalism as well! How many scientists have we lost to poverty induced by systemic racism?! How many people have never pursued their dreams because of poverty and debt and economic inequality? How about we go halfsies on this, Rand? How about a world where everybody is free to do whatever they want but the people whose dreams garner them millions of dollars are taxed to pay for other people’s needs whose dreams aren’t meant to garner them millions of dollars? And they pay those taxes willingly because they believe so much in the personal freedom of others and see the goodness and need of all poets and artists, even those whose works don’t capture the imagination of the mainstream but still touch the hearts and souls of others? No? Does that infringe on your personal freedoms of not wanting to ever help another person? Well, I guess that gets pack to my thesis: “Suck it, Ayn Rand.”
P.P.P.S. At one point, the protagonist says, “I owe nothing to my brothers, nor do I gather debts from them.” This is critical to Rand’s philosophy. That she owes nothing to anybody else. That everything she has, she has earned on her own. The point of the story, by sending the protagonist out into the Uncharted Forest, is to show that the protagonist can live on their own merits. But the other half needs to be said though not shown and, willfully ignored: that the protagonist gathers no debts from their brothers. And yet the protagonist says this while living in a modern house from the Unspeakable Times, with literature that has given them the pronoun “I”. No debts owed, my Brother? Living in a house built by somebody else? Gathering knowledge from the generations who came before? Oh, yeah, okay. You definitely have created your own life yourself without any help from others at all. No debts owed! Forgive me for thinking we are social creatures and that civilization and all of our modern comforts are only feasible because we owe each other debts. Man, I think my thesis is too soft!
