tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414027.post1431638620705384950..comments2024-01-27T21:13:16.816-05:00Comments on Late Reviews and Latest Obsessions: Stale FountThe Critichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14649685715108221607noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414027.post-17029527031363588922009-12-25T04:45:33.145-05:002009-12-25T04:45:33.145-05:00Play Online Casino tyuueooru
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Over and over I'm s...Corrected sentence above:<br /><br />Over and over I'm struck by how little foresight and humanity these advocates of the Great Men theory have, how much they forget their John Donne.The Critichttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14649685715108221607noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414027.post-15194615287082355282009-11-20T10:01:08.622-05:002009-11-20T10:01:08.622-05:00A few other minor points that didn't make it i...A few other minor points that didn't make it into the review:<br /><br />1.) For a novel about a groundbreaking talent, Rand pulls the same horseshit trick tons of novels and films make when they're about art: we never once get a good visual sense of what the art entails. Oh, sure, a couple times Rand gives us the vaguest sketch of what Roark's buildings might look like, but we are never given a decent enough sense of these marvels' visual style or impact. There's always a gloss over or a cut away or an absence. Instead, Rand fobs us off with descriptions of characters as though they were geometry proofs, all oblongs and ovals and ellipticals, charting the planes of their faces instead of the structures of the buildings.<br /><br />2. Perhaps one of the single greatest moments of ugh in the novel comes when Roark is describing an out of work sculptor to someone. We are told that this sculptor without commissions suffers more for his lack of creative outlet than hundreds of people crushed by tanks on a field of war. Really? If another character had said such a thing, you might be tempted to say the author was giving them a touch of hysterics and hyperbole. But Rand is without irony and without a sense of humor. What Howard Roark says is true, and we are left with the conclusion that Rand believed such a monstrous thing.<br /><br />3. Over and over I'm struck by how little foresight and humanity these advocates of the Great Men theory forget their John Donne. No man is an island isn't just a piece of philosophical whimsy; it's also a straightforward description of society. Roark may stand alone at his drafting table, exploding with his vision and his art, but someone cooks the food he eats, someone grows the vegetables that goes into the food he eats, someone loads that food onto trains, someone cleans those plates when he's done. Does Rand and her ilk ever consider how little time Supermen would have for being so super if they had to scrub the skidmarks out of their own underwear. The mundane tasks, performed by the mundane people Rand would like to see rubbed out of existence, are time-consuming but necessary. Make Howard Roark do everything for himself, hoe his own garden, mill his own grain, raise his own livestock, carve his own wooden dishes, hew his own metal blades and tools, make his own pencils and drafting paper, and when will there be time for Enright Houses? In a much depopulated world of Creators, where all the second-handers no longer exist, there will be no audience to buy this supreme art, no commissions to build these skyscrapers, there will only be former artists trying to survive. Or perhaps Rand envisions a world where every task is performed with love by a Supreme Creator, a super laundress who starches shirts like no leech on society ever could, a super taxicab driver who no man tells where to drive and what route to take, super milkmen who give you the food you need, not the food you want. Rand has clearly not taken this into consideration or otherwise, all that is left to her is advocating for slavery.<br /><br />4. Irony of ironies, in her revulsion toward all things Soviet, Rand has managed to write a book that is of a piece with late era bureaucratically produced socialist realism, a dreary formalism in which medium is not just under the heel of message, but is ground into a pulp. For an example of this kind of Objectivist politburo-ing, dig this <a href="http://www.aynrand.org/site/PageServer?pagename=education_contests_edu_tfplot3" rel="nofollow">crazy set of study guides</a> as provided by the Ayn Rand institute.The Critichttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14649685715108221607noreply@blogger.com