Response to "Ayn Rand: Goddess of the Great Recession"

The article I just read was not complementary to Ayn Rand. It was a slam, not necessarily inflammatory, but Gary Moore did misunderstand Ayn Rand. Furthermore, he placed too much emphasis on the person, and not enough into understanding the merits of Objectivism as a philosophical framework. What can I do to remedy that situation? What is it that Christians can take away from Ayn Rand? And what can Randians get out of Christianity? A lot.
First of all, it's the rational self-interest part that hangs everyone up. Rand called it "selfishness" and that didn't help. What she meant, and referred to elsewhere, was a focus on the individual, one's own highest possible good, in a way that Reason supports. Reason, according to Rand, supports activities that support one's own survival and thriving. Those activities are virtues. Without the activities that help us survive, there would be no values, virtues, or vices. According to Rand, anything that detracts from our ability to survive and thrive is a vice. Got it. This definition of virtue and vice makes sense, given that the individual is the center of the universe. And for Rand, the individual life is the lead in the play of her own life. What could be more obvious? But the message of Jesus is that God is the lead in the play of my life. He is the highest possible occupation of my soul, and my own life and thriving happens on a cosmic level only to the degree that I worship and serve the living God, the true God, the God of the Bible.
The author of the article in Christianity Today, August 27, 2010, speaks of Rand's anti-Christian posture as if she truly understood the Gospel. I don't think she did, and her writing makes that clear.
Rand's idea of Christianity was Kantian, wrapped around the idea of duty. When I first read Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, I was affronted by her blasting distaste for all things religious, and I wasn't even a Christian! When I continued investigating her philosophy through her nonfiction, I understood what she reacted to the most was the notion of subjecting what she understood to be the highest possible value (her own life) to a very low value, something she didn't believe existed, a "non-entity." Christians don't view their own lives, or God, that way. John Piper, in Desiring God, made it as plain as anyone ever has. He talks about God delighting in our delighting in Him. In following our deepest desires for satisfaction, fulfillment, and thriving, God delights when those desires are met, recognized, find their conclusion in Him. In fact, He designed us that way.
The best illustration I have heard plays out when I think about my relationship with my wife. It's our anniversary. I have worked everything out, from the flowers, the chauffeur, the quiet table in her favorite restaurant, and a romantic ambiance. As she takes it all in, she is delighted. She turns to me as says, "Thank you. You went to a lot of trouble, and it's beautiful."
At that moment, I can respond in one of two ways that represent two very different heart conditions. I can say, "Think nothing of it. I'm just doing my duty as a husband." Or, I can say, "There is no place I would rather be than here, right now, with you." It's obvious which one of these heart motivations is the most honoring to her. She may even be dishonored by the first, feeling that I don't really love her, but it's all about fulfilling some idea that I have about my own husbandhood. In contrast, when I let loose and seek the greatest possible delight for myself, I go all out for her happiness because it makes me happy.
The Bible is full of commands to seek our highest delight in God because only He can fulfill our deepest longings and highest fulfillment. Does that mean that Gospel Christianity is the fulfillment of Objectivism? What a thought!

Creator and creators

Ayn Rand wrote this in The Fountainhead, through the voice of Howard Roark:

"The creators were not selfless. It is the whole secret of their power—that it was self-sufficient, self-motivated, self-generated. A first cause, a fount of energy, a life force, a Prime Mover. The creator served nothing and no one. He lived for himself.
"And only by living for himself was he able to achieve the things which are the glory of mankind." -- Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead, page 679

Man's creative capacity is the means of his survival. Acting is his own rational self-interest, his own delight and satisfaction, the individual has achieved glory. To what extent would the Christian substitute individual "creators" for the "Creator"?

The Creator was not selfless. It is the whole secret of his power—that it was self-sufficient, self-motivated, self-generated. A First Cause, a Fount of Energy, a Life Force, a Prime Mover. The Creator served nothing and no one. He lived for Himself.

And only by living for Himself was He able to achieve the things which are the glory of mankind.

I had not thought of the Creator as acting for his own satisfaction and delight until I read John Piper's book Desiring God. The subtitle, "Meditations of a Christian Hedonist,"could easily have read "Meditations of a Christian Objectivist." His entire argument seemed to say that God is self-centered. God is the highest, most glorious, focus and occupation that anyone can enjoy, and so he is focused on himself. Where Piper, consistent with the biblical theme, differs from Rand is that Rand would say the individual is the highest, most glorious focus and occupation that anyone can enjoy, so he should be focused on himself. As always, I am interested in your thoughts.

The Killer Proposal

I've talked about the proposal before, but now it's becoming that time. The elements that I am compiling are 1) the "Grab" Sheet, 2) The Table of Contents (TOC), and 3) the Sample Chapter.

The Grab sheet is about 6-10 pages designed to sell the book to a publisher: Why should we pick this up? Who's the audience? What are you trying to do here? Who are you and why should you write this book? Why now? and other good questions. In addition, I talk about the competition. What else is out there and how is this different?

The TOC is a chapter-by-chapter treatment, kind of a narrative walk-through of the book. What is each chapter about and how does it serve a purpose? What is the point or argument in this chapter, and how does the chapter communicate that?

Finally, the sample chapter. I'm not even sure whether this is an actual chapter. I haven't written anything that qualifies yet. It's supposed to be a writing sample that is chock full of examples, like a trailer that gets you wanting to see the movie. In some cases, you've seen the whole movie by watching the trailer. For a movie, that's a bad trailer. In the case of the sample chapter, so I hear, that's a good thing, to a point. That is, you want your prospective publisher to get an full idea about your climax and punch line, but you still want her interested in the book.

Right now, I am writing all of these pieces at the same time. We'll see how it goes.

This is fun!

I have to say, "This is fun!" Sure, I'm up late and I'm sweating a [self-imposed] deadline. But, the challenge of formulating an argument that is complex and yet hangs together; that's energizing.
Today, I focused on putting together an in-depth mental plan for the first chapter, entitled "How does the Objectivist View the Nature of the Universe?" I know, it's kind of heady, but that's where the book needs to start if it's going to compare Objectivism and Christianity.
Especially at this foundational level of philosophy, I am finding that I have to go back and read more philosophical, and specifically Objectivist, literature. Ayn Rand and Leonard Peikoff have thought long and hard about these issues("existence exists"), and I have been drawing on their articulation. After all, I'm not trying to "reinvent the wheel;" I want to present these concepts in an accessible, educated-layman's framework.
So, I find myself asking questions like "How should this chapter flow?" "What are the questions that need to be answered?" "What level should I aim for, and what depth does that require?" That process has overwhelmed me, to say the least, but I am really juiced about what I envision as the final product.
And, I know that it's somewhat odd and a little freaky that I would get excited about it, but I suppose it's a good thing that I am, or I would be the wrong person for the job.

Narrative Nonfiction

My writing to this point has been a left brain activity. I have been outlining the points that will accomplish each chapter's purpose, their appropriate juxtaposition, etc. My right brain gets involved as I consider how to express these points creatively, in a way that will engage the reader. Here's where I'm finding the need to interject my own experience.

A recent article on Suite101.com suggested the idea of a narrative approach to nonfiction. I like it, and I can see its usefulness. First, it draws people in by making the dry content more human. Second, it allows concrete illustrations of some abstract philosophical concepts. And, third, it breaks up the discussion. It provides a transition between to topics of comparison by virtue of a common denominator: my experience.

As a matter of curiosity, I am interested in others' thoughts. Do you think narrative content has a role in nonfiction (of the sort that I am writing)?

I can't help but write about a new resource for writing. It's a tool that has motivated me to get writing. It's the "butt in chair" method for writing. Simply showing up and writing is the surest way to write. So, I have begun a journey of writing something every day. To help, I have been tracking it on 750Words.com. To be more accurate, the website has been tracking it. But not in a Big Brother way; in a playful, more helpful way. From the picture that I have inserted with this post, you can see a couple of the elements that the website tracks, specific to my writing every day. These are the stats from today, August 25th. The first thing I see is that I am a Patron. That means that I contributed $4.00 in the last 30 days to the site via PayPal. That's strictly voluntary; the site is free across the board. Secondly, I have written over 25,000 words this month and written each day of the month (all 25!). "Completed" means that I have written at least 750 words each day. You can write as many words as you like, but to "complete" a day, you need to write 750 or over. That's about three pages.
The third aspect I appreciate on this page of stats (there are many more, by the way; check them out at http://750words.com/entries/stats/245619) is the badges. Those are the cutesy, corny cartoon pictures in the middle. You are "awarded" badges every time you hit a milestone (e.g. writing 30 days in a row, something I have yet to do). Finally, to wrap up this little tour of 750Words.com, there is the writing progress on any given day. When did you start? How many interruptions did you encounter? It's all there. In a previous post entitled "Self-Importance and My Private Writing," I talked about the stats that track my "subconscious" as I write (http://www.soulofatlas.com/2010/08/self-importance-and-my-private-writing.html). And there's more. As always, I'm interested in your thoughts.

"Longing" in Atlas Shrugged

Dagny Taggart is a tireless worker, a driven achiever and producer of value. All her life, she has aspired to reach her highest potential and become superlative example of rational self-interest. She longs for something that she cannot yet articulate. She wants it badly, but the world system of looters and moochers fights her with their collectivist policies and their actions against individual liberty. She finds herself alone, nearly despairing, but refusing ultimate hopelessness. A person personifies her longing. A person represents all that she believes, hopes, and expects. But her vision eludes her.

You—she thought—whoever you are, whom I have always loved and never found, you whom I expected to see at the end of the rails beyond the horizon, you whose presence I had always felt in the streets of the city and whose world I had wanted to build, it is my love for you that had kept me moving, my love and my hope to reach you and my wish to be worthy of you on the day when I would stand before you face to face. Now I know that I shall never find you—that it is not to be reached or lived—but what is left of my life is still yours, and I will go on in your name, even though it is a name I'll never learn, I will go on serving you, even though I'm never to win, I will go on, to be worthy of you on the day when I would have met you, even though I won't.… She had never accepted hopelessness, but she stood at the window and, addressed to the shape of a fogbound city, it was her self-dedication to unrequited love. -- Atlas Shrugged, page 633

C.S Lewis puts it so well when he talks about a longing. It’s a deep longing inside of us that the highest sense experience of nature, or success, or relationship cannot satisfy. Nothing in this world can satisfy; it’s beyond this world. Rand herself longed for it, but it wasn’t to be found. C.S. Lewis and others conclude that the longing doesn’t prove that we’ll get it. But if we have a longing that nothing in this world can satisfy, it follows that we were built for another world. Our longings point us to another world.

Warming Up

The Artist's Way (kind of like a 12-step program to "recover your creativity") suggests writing three pages every day from the top of your head. Brainstorming, stream of consciousness. Pick your euphemism. I have thought of it as "warming up" to write rather than actually writing "The Soul of Atlas." But I need to take this warming up process more seriously. I am doing it to see where it leads. What I need to do is go beyond it. What's next after the warm up? If you warm up, it's for a race. If you don't race, what good is the warm up? Maybe stretching is good, but you know what I mean. So the next step is to pick up my manuscript and read it through, taking notes. What is each chapter missing in terms of flow, and write to fill the gaps. I am afraid of throwing things away, my writing that is, what I have written so far because I am afraid I will need it and want it later, saying "Oh no, I threw that away. Now it's gone!". Of course, I have already printed it out, so I am sure that I could go back and retrieve it somehow. What seems to work is this, and I will plan for it: Go through the manuscript with all of my changes (not throwing anything away). When I have gone through (and I should highlight anything that is in doubt, or suspicious, so that I will trim everything down). Then after I have gone through, made changes to the text (from my hard-copy notes), and highlighted all of the text that I am tempted to throw out, I can go back and see where, if anywhere, these highlighted portions might fit. If nowhere, be ruthless. Maybe Ruth can help me with that. I can see the crack of light at the end, and I am excited about the prospect.

Clouds

Some of you have seen my postings on Facebook. Each day, I have been writing 750 words. That's roughly three pages. It's at least that number each day, and then I "share on Facebook." The post on the page reads something like this:

Mark Henderson wrote 1,144 words on Thursday August 19, 2010 - 750 Words

To the left of the text, there is some cutesy icon that represents an achievement, like writing ten days in a row, or writing without interruption, etc. Lately, I have been posting clouds, and someone asked why. Interestingly, the website tracks a lot of items about my writing. (Those are available through this link: http://750words.com/entries/share/238407.) One item is the weather during the time that I write. The rationale is that the weather could be affecting the mood of my writing (which the site tracks through an algorithm applied to the content). Am I sad when it's cloudy? or Am I feeling "self-important" when it rains? I don't know yet.
Some have asked, "Are you writing the book in these words?" I started out writing on 750Words.com to add content to my manuscript (it's already 250 pages). That was successful for a while. But the writing I do online is not explicitly related to the book, The Soul of Atlas. It's not related to any book, per se. Instead, it generally helps me get the cobwebs out of my brain first thing in the morning. Kind of a warm up, like stretching before a run, or playing scales before a concert. It's not a distraction because then I move into the heavy lifting and end up writing even more, and more to the point. Thanks for asking. As always, love your comments. By the way, if you don't see any images, take a peak on the Soul of Atlas blog directly: http://www.soulofatlas.com/

Writing is Work

I haven't yet reached the point of exasperation that William Burroughs describes as "the temptation to tear up your work in little pieces and throw it in someone else's wastepaper basket." It demands patience and solitude from the writer who wants to write well. The compulsion to spend hours writing can deform a normal life. Not to mention, there is the constant question of whether my writing will be any good, or whether I will succeed enough to be able to do it in the first place. Those are the moments when it can help to read the lives and letters of great writers. Isaac Babel has this to say about the hard labor of revision:

I work like a pack mule, but it's my own choice. I'm like a galley slave who is chained for life to his oar, but who loves the oar. Everything about it. I go over each sentence time and again. I start by cutting all the words it can do without. You have to keep you eye on the job because words are very sly. The rubbishy ones go into hiding and you have to dig them out. Repetitions, synonyms, things that simply don't mean anything. I go over every image, metaphor, comparison to see if they are fresh and accurate. If you can't find the right adjective for a noun, leave it alone. Let the noun stand by itself. A comparison must be as accurate as a slide rule and as natural as the smell of fennel. I take out all the participles and adverbs I can. Adverbs are lighter. They can even lend you wings in a way. But too many of them make the language spineless. A noun needs only one adjective, the choicest. Only a genius can afford two adjectives to one noun. Line is as important in prose as in an engraving. It has to be clear and hard. But the most important thing of all is not to kill the story by working on it, or else all of your labor has been in vain. It's like walking a tight rope.

Writing is work.

A Day on the Set of Atlas Shrugged, Part 1

I had never been on the set of a movie before, let alone Atlas Shrugged, whose scenes I know and love. This was an opportunity that I couldn't miss. And it was thrilling. I didn't bother hiding my naivete about film making, and my enthusiasm for everything Hollywood. In other words, I didn't try to be cool. "Cool" would have been difficult for me. As I mentioned in a previous post, I made it a day trip sandwiched between two red-eyes, long flights from the East Coast.

On this day, the scene being filmed is the one where Dagny (Taylor Schilling, obscured by some extras) considers, with Rearden (Grant Bowler in the far background), the seemingly insurmountable deadlines that they are determined to overcome in order to complete the John Galt Line. The mile-long bridge extends over a steep drop across a Colorado canyon, to reach the oil fields of Ellis Wyatt (Graham Beckel, see below).
Here I am with two of the people responsible for bringing Ayn Rand's novel to the big screen. I'm in the distinctly California color between producer John Aglialoro and his wife, Joan.

I was delighted to meet the actors in Atlas Shrugged. Here are Graham Beckel and Taylor Schilling. Having seen her, I think Taylor will make a fantastic Dagny. Her appearance projects strength and confidence, with an unmistakably feminine flair.

The man on the right in the picture below is Grant Bowler, who plays Hank Rearden. He couldn't be more perfect. Each time I saw him, in take after take, he executed his lines like a time-tested professional, with the consistency and variety that you look for to cast a Randian hero of Rearden's stature.

Morning Pages

The inspiration for 750Words.com, my latest reason for enthusiasm about writing, is the passage about a tool for creative recovery called "Morning Pages" in Julia Cameron's book, The Artist's Way. Simply, writing. Cameron puts it this way:

When people [in her creative workshop] ask, "Why do we write morning pages?" I joke, "To get to the other side." They think I am kidding, but I'm not. Morning pages do get us to the other side: the other side of our fear, of our negativity, of our moods. Above all, they get us beyond our Censor. Beyond the reach o f the Censor's babble we find our won quiet center, the place where we hear the still, small voice that is at once our creator's and our own.

The sentiments that she shares here--the impetus for writing the morning pages--both explains and calls into question my desire to scrutinize my "self-importance" theme. The take-away? Forget about it. At most, the theme of "self-importance" that comes up in my "morning pages" could be junk that I need to get through (out on paper) in order to begin the real task of creative writing. In my case, it's creative non-fiction.

Oscar Winner, Patricia Neal

Patricia Neal died Sunday. She was 84. While it was not her most famous role, I remember her as Dominique Franchon in the film version of The Fountainhead. A glamorous socialite and journalist, Dominique is an admirer of Howard Roark's architectural work and opposes the newspaper's turning the public against him. She is engaged to be married to the unimaginative Peter Keating. Dominique falls for Roark before she even knows he's a brilliant architect, and her passion leads her to obsession.
I cannot imagine that Neal's love affair with Gary Cooper during the filming of the “The Fountainhead” was as steamy as that of Ayn Rand's heroine. Still, she was 20; he was 45 and married. After Cooper’s wife found out, the affair ended but Neal discovered she was pregnant. Worried about the effect such a thing would have on her burgeoning career (especially after “The Fountainhead” flopped) and with the urging of Cooper, Neal aborted the unborn child. In her autobiography, Neal makes no secret of the fact that this abortion was the great regret of her life. For the next thirty years she cried herself to sleep over it and wrote:

If I had only one thing to do over in my life, I would have that baby.

I don't know how deep Patricia Neal delved into Objectivism, the philosophy of Ayn Rand, in her younger years. I have heard that, later in life, she returned to the Catholic faith and became a strong pro-life advocate. Was her return to the Catholic faith a response to deeply felt guilt? Or was it a sincere longing for a relationship with her creator?
The former reasoning often leads individuals to dismiss faith as dysfunctional and unnecessary for healthy individuals, who are strong in their decisions and sense of self-worth. The idea of coming to God out of guilt and the need for a "get out of jail [free] card" leaves me feeling a little dirty, like I would be "using" God to make me feel better, and then move on. In contrast, if I see Jesus Christ as the One who alone satisfies my deepest longing for purpose and completeness, I will experience the greatest of all possible joy in a relationship with him. As I mentioned, I'm not sure which one Neal would have identified with, and we may never know. The question posed by her motivations is left for each of us to ask ourselves.