The Journals of Ayn Rand (2 page)
Read The Journals of Ayn Rand Online
Authors: Ayn Rand
By her early thirties, AR had thought herself out of every Nietzschean element. With
The Fountainhead,
the only trace left is in the characters of Dominique and Wynand, whose bitterness about the world Roark proves to be a cardinal error. After
The Fountainhead,
Nietzsche is not even an error to be refuted; there is nothing but pure Ayn Rand.
The Fountainhead,
the only trace left is in the characters of Dominique and Wynand, whose bitterness about the world Roark proves to be a cardinal error. After
The Fountainhead,
Nietzsche is not even an error to be refuted; there is nothing but pure Ayn Rand.
Although AR’s vision of the ideal man remained constant through the decades, her view of his greatest enemy changed when the Nietzschean element was dropped. As a youngster, the first enemy of Man whom she could identify was Communism, the omnipotent State. Then, as she grew beyond politics, the enemy, for a short while, was taken to be the masses of average men as such, regardless of their political organization. One of the unique features of her mature hero-worship, by contrast, is her explicit benevolence towards the honest average man (as represented by Mike in
The Fountainhead
and Eddie Willers in
Atlas Shrugged).
By her early thirties, AR had discovered the real enemy of the ideal (which is also the real corrupter of politics and of the masses): the intellectuals of irrationalism. Thus, although AR’s passionate values never changed, the early bitterness toward the commissars or the mob becomes in time the expose of Ellsworth Toohey, and then the damnation of Kant.
The Fountainhead
and Eddie Willers in
Atlas Shrugged).
By her early thirties, AR had discovered the real enemy of the ideal (which is also the real corrupter of politics and of the masses): the intellectuals of irrationalism. Thus, although AR’s passionate values never changed, the early bitterness toward the commissars or the mob becomes in time the expose of Ellsworth Toohey, and then the damnation of Kant.
One can see AR’s growth as an artist in regard to every facet of writing a novel, with the emphasis on plot and characterization.
In regard to plot, we see the steps by which she learns to create it—we are there when a dramatic event or scene first occurs to her, and we see what she finally does with it and why. We see her continually restructure events so as to achieve an inexorable rise to a necessary but unpredictable climax. We see how several different lines of events (personal/emotional, economic, political, philosophical) are made to rise and climax at once, and how each of these lines helps reshape the others. And we see her carry on the plot struggles until she reaches the desired result: a seamless complexity that will enter the reader’s mind with the simplicity of the inevitable.
In regard to characterization, we see her first concept of the cast (and her earliest names for the leads), then its simultaneous expansion and winnowing out. We see the sharpening focus on a character’s distinctive attributes, and her decisions as to what kinds of actions and relationships will convey these objectively. We learn everything about the heroes and the villains that AR herself needs to know, even though she cannot always use the information in the final book. We are there when eloquent lines of dialogue occur to her, and sometimes see her move them from one mouth to another. And we see how AR uses (or deliberately does not use) her knowledge of real people. This last will answer such common questions as: Was Frank Lloyd Wright a model for Roark? Or William Randolph Hearst for Wynand? It will also answer some uncommon questions, such as: What female suggested Lois Cook? What scientist Robert Stadler? And what President Mr. Thompson?
In reading the
Journals,
we also see AR’s methodical redefinition of a novel’s theme so as to include the broader integrations she is always making and the concrete applications she is identifying. We see much of her research, from architecture to railroads to steel mills and copper mining, and how she uses it to aid her in the development of plot, character, and theme. And, sometimes—in regard both to fiction and to nonfiction—we see the first draft of a section, followed by her own ruthless critique and revision.
Journals,
we also see AR’s methodical redefinition of a novel’s theme so as to include the broader integrations she is always making and the concrete applications she is identifying. We see much of her research, from architecture to railroads to steel mills and copper mining, and how she uses it to aid her in the development of plot, character, and theme. And, sometimes—in regard both to fiction and to nonfiction—we see the first draft of a section, followed by her own ruthless critique and revision.
If the primary value of the
Journals
to us is the evidence it furnishes of AR’s growth, a second value is the evidence that her growth was a product of
thinking
—in the art of which the
Journals
may serve as a textbook. The subtitle of this book really ought to be: How to Answer Your Own Questions.
Journals
to us is the evidence it furnishes of AR’s growth, a second value is the evidence that her growth was a product of
thinking
—in the art of which the
Journals
may serve as a textbook. The subtitle of this book really ought to be: How to Answer Your Own Questions.
Implicit in the countless examples of fruitful thinking which make up the book are dozens of practical guides to the art of
clear
thinking. Among other things, one can learn a great deal about the means of properly wording a question, the need for factual data (and at what point enough have been gathered), the roles of induction and deduction, the necessity and method of integration—then, as the final mopping up, the means of formulating a definitive proof of a conclusion.
clear
thinking. Among other things, one can learn a great deal about the means of properly wording a question, the need for factual data (and at what point enough have been gathered), the roles of induction and deduction, the necessity and method of integration—then, as the final mopping up, the means of formulating a definitive proof of a conclusion.
On first reading (which is all I have done so far), three principles of clear thinking seemed, above all others, to leap out of the pages at me:
1.
The need for intellectual honesty.
For example, AR was troubled at one point by a seeming contradiction in her views—which she hastened not to evade, but to state forcefully. “[Now I shall consider] the hypothetical case of a monopoly (say, telephone) free to refuse services to an individual or a group of men or a branch of business. In this last case, it is obvious that the inventor’s monopoly has such an absolute right. Does it mean, however, that individualism then degenerates into its opposite in practice, into collectivism? Has the size of an enterprise (made possible by the scope covered by modern inventions) anything to do with it? In other words, does invention such as the telephone give the individual who controls it a collectivist’s power by the sheer size of his business? (No, I think.)...” (Sept. 30, 1944). AR raises, as a matter of course, every objection to her views that occurs to her—and then answers them all. This is one reason why, when she finally endorses a conclusion, she is certain of it.
The need for intellectual honesty.
For example, AR was troubled at one point by a seeming contradiction in her views—which she hastened not to evade, but to state forcefully. “[Now I shall consider] the hypothetical case of a monopoly (say, telephone) free to refuse services to an individual or a group of men or a branch of business. In this last case, it is obvious that the inventor’s monopoly has such an absolute right. Does it mean, however, that individualism then degenerates into its opposite in practice, into collectivism? Has the size of an enterprise (made possible by the scope covered by modern inventions) anything to do with it? In other words, does invention such as the telephone give the individual who controls it a collectivist’s power by the sheer size of his business? (No, I think.)...” (Sept. 30, 1944). AR raises, as a matter of course, every objection to her views that occurs to her—and then answers them all. This is one reason why, when she finally endorses a conclusion, she is certain of it.
2.
The need for precise formulation, even in private notes.
For example: “A possible definition of a right: a ‘right’ is that which it is morally permissible to defend by force. Here I have to be very careful. This might be totally wrong. If carelessly handled, it could be used as justification for the right of a communist to murder an employer who does not give him a job. Again, ’sins of omission’ come in. This is only a hint, a possible clue to be thought out very carefully, from every possible angle and in every possible application. It is no good—
unless
a total proof of it can be given....” (Oct. 26, 1944).
The need for precise formulation, even in private notes.
For example: “A possible definition of a right: a ‘right’ is that which it is morally permissible to defend by force. Here I have to be very careful. This might be totally wrong. If carelessly handled, it could be used as justification for the right of a communist to murder an employer who does not give him a job. Again, ’sins of omission’ come in. This is only a hint, a possible clue to be thought out very carefully, from every possible angle and in every possible application. It is no good—
unless
a total proof of it can be given....” (Oct. 26, 1944).
3.
The need for
fresh
writing.
To put this point negatively, there are no clichés in the
Journals,
no numbing restatements even of AR’s own ideas. On the contrary, the notes are replete with new angles, new connections, new distinctions, new analogies, new wording—even in regard to issues which AR had discussed extensively in print. Most of this new material did not survive the
Journals,
despite its inherent interest; to her, it was merely steps on the road to clarity, the first birth pangs of the books still to come. My point, however, is that the freshness of the writing is a corollary of the process she is engaged in: not rationalistic deduction nor recitation of the known, but pioneering thought.
The need for
fresh
writing.
To put this point negatively, there are no clichés in the
Journals,
no numbing restatements even of AR’s own ideas. On the contrary, the notes are replete with new angles, new connections, new distinctions, new analogies, new wording—even in regard to issues which AR had discussed extensively in print. Most of this new material did not survive the
Journals,
despite its inherent interest; to her, it was merely steps on the road to clarity, the first birth pangs of the books still to come. My point, however, is that the freshness of the writing is a corollary of the process she is engaged in: not rationalistic deduction nor recitation of the known, but pioneering thought.
As a small example of the latter point, I offer the following note, never used in print, on the question of reason and emotion: “Man cannot, [some people] say, be called a rational being because his actions are not motivated by his mind; his mind is like his Sunday clothes, kept in a dark closet and donned reluctantly on rare occasions; and when donned, it makes him stiff, uncomfortable and unhappy, because it never fit him well in the first place. What man does on weekdays, they say, is to gallop about stark-naked, on all fours, because it reminds him of his mother who gave him a complex, and to whirl around catching his own tail which he hasn’t got but feels he has; that is what he does because it makes him happy. Reason? Reason, they say, is just something he uses in such negligible, incidental matters as earning a living...” (July 30, 1945).
Too many of AR’s professed admirers in print are academics of the scholastic persuasion. The
Journals
gives us the original, a purely Objectivist mind at work—mostly right, sometimes wrong, but always, from start to finish, reality-oriented.
Journals
gives us the original, a purely Objectivist mind at work—mostly right, sometimes wrong, but always, from start to finish, reality-oriented.
In terms of cognitive value to the reader, the new material alone in this volume warrants the price. It is new to me also. No matter how clear Objectivism is in my mind, every time I read another Ayn Rand book, it becomes clearer. This book is no exception.
David Harriman has done an excellent editorial job. He has brought order to dozens of large cardboard cartons filled with scattered papers and mementos. He has selected the best of the notes, organized them chronologically, offered explanations when these were available and helpful, and edited the wording, especially for grammar, of the early pages, when AR had not yet fully grasped English. For all this work, I am grateful to David Harriman, as all fans of AR should be.
The final chapter of the
Journals
shows us AR near the end of her life. There is nothing to publish in regard to her work on mathematics or neurology, but some of her notes on psycho-epistemology have been included—along with every word she wrote for her last projected novel.
Journals
shows us AR near the end of her life. There is nothing to publish in regard to her work on mathematics or neurology, but some of her notes on psycho-epistemology have been included—along with every word she wrote for her last projected novel.
To Lorne Dieterling
was to be “the story of a woman [a dancer] who is totally motivated by love for values—and how one maintains such a state when alone in an enemy world.” (This formulation is from November 1957, a month after
Atlas Shrugged
was published.) The two basic “sense of life” music numbers to be danced by the heroine in the novel are the Overture to
La Traviata
and “Will O’ the Wisp,” one of AR’s favorite “tiddly wink” pieces.
was to be “the story of a woman [a dancer] who is totally motivated by love for values—and how one maintains such a state when alone in an enemy world.” (This formulation is from November 1957, a month after
Atlas Shrugged
was published.) The two basic “sense of life” music numbers to be danced by the heroine in the novel are the Overture to
La Traviata
and “Will O’ the Wisp,” one of AR’s favorite “tiddly wink” pieces.
Verdi’s
La Traviata
Overture, she writes, is to be “the dance of rising, without ever moving from one spot—done by means of her arms and body—ending on ‘Dominique’s statue’ posture, as ’higher than raised arms,‘ as the achieved, as the total surrender to a vision and, simultaneously, ’This is I.‘ (The open, the naked, the ’without armor.‘)” As to “Will O’ the Wisp,” it represents
“the
triumph—the tap dance and ballet combined—
my
total sense of life.... (Probably danced in a low-grade dive, with Lome [the hero] present....”
La Traviata
Overture, she writes, is to be “the dance of rising, without ever moving from one spot—done by means of her arms and body—ending on ‘Dominique’s statue’ posture, as ’higher than raised arms,‘ as the achieved, as the total surrender to a vision and, simultaneously, ’This is I.‘ (The open, the naked, the ’without armor.‘)” As to “Will O’ the Wisp,” it represents
“the
triumph—the tap dance and ballet combined—
my
total sense of life.... (Probably danced in a low-grade dive, with Lome [the hero] present....”
Such was the sense of life not only of a young immigrant in her twenties ho was brimming over with new ideas, but also of a philosopher in her sev enties, who had lived consistently by every one of her ideas. Such was the sense of life of an artist “alone in an enemy world,” who had already endured her greatest disappointments—and created her greatest achievements.
As David Harriman puts it in his eloquent conclusion:
“Ayn Rand has come full circle. She returned at the end to [the] problem [of irrational people] that had concerned her from the beginning.... At this stage, however, she knows the solution ...
“It is fitting, therefore, that her last fiction notes are about a woman like herself, who maintains such a [joyous and lighthearted] view of life to the end, even while those around her do not.”
She did it—how? In essence, by means of these
Journals
(and their equivalents through the decades). In other words, she did it in part through the knowledge she methodically struggled to gain, but above all through the intransigent will at the root of such a struggle: the will to think, in every issue and all her life long.
Journals
(and their equivalents through the decades). In other words, she did it in part through the knowledge she methodically struggled to gain, but above all through the intransigent will at the root of such a struggle: the will to think, in every issue and all her life long.
Whoever cares to match the price can reach the same result. As the first payment—I say this to those with their lives still ahead of them—I suggest that you read this book.
Leonard Peikoff
Irvine, California
October 1996
Irvine, California
October 1996
EDITOR’S PREfACE
In a note to herself at the age of twenty-three, AR wrote: “From now on—no thought whatever about yourself, only about your work. You are only a writing engine. Don’t stop, until you really and honestly know that you cannot go on.” Throughout her long career, she remained true to this pledge—she was a “writing engine.” With the publication of her journals, we can now see the “writing behind the writing” and appreciate fully the prodigious effort that went into her published work.
AR’s notes, typically handwritten, were spread among the numerous boxes of papers she left behind at her death in 1982. My editing of this material has consisted of selection, organization, line editing, and insertion of explanatory comments.
Selection. This book presents AR’s
working
journals—i.e., the notes in which she developed her literary and philosophical ideas. Notes of a personal nature will be included in a forthcoming authorized biography.
working
journals—i.e., the notes in which she developed her literary and philosophical ideas. Notes of a personal nature will be included in a forthcoming authorized biography.
Approximately three-quarters of the working journals are presented here. I have included the material that I judge to be of interest to serious, philosophical admirers of AR’s novels and ideas. This standard is, in effect, a middle ground between the scholar who wants every note, and the casual fan who might be satisfied with a selection of notes on fiction.
In most cases, I have described specific omissions in the chapter introductions. In general, notes have been omitted for the following reasons:
1.
Repetition with other notes.
AR sometimes rewrote her notes, often for the purpose of condensing and essentializing. I have included such later material only when it contains provocative new formulations.
Repetition with other notes.
AR sometimes rewrote her notes, often for the purpose of condensing and essentializing. I have included such later material only when it contains provocative new formulations.
2.
Repetition with published material.
Lengthy notes that merely state what the reader of her published work already knows, such as final outlines for novels, have been omitted.
Repetition with published material.
Lengthy notes that merely state what the reader of her published work already knows, such as final outlines for novels, have been omitted.
3.
Quotes or paraphrases of other authors.
In her research, AR often quoted or paraphrased material she had read. I have usually included these notes only when she adds her own comments.
Quotes or paraphrases of other authors.
In her research, AR often quoted or paraphrased material she had read. I have usually included these notes only when she adds her own comments.
4. Isolated, usually political, notes that
are
unrelated to the surrounding
philosophiclliterary material.
For example, AR’s critique of President Truman’s decision to fire General MacArthur was omitted because the only other notes from the period were on
Atlas
Shrugged.
are
unrelated to the surrounding
philosophiclliterary material.
For example, AR’s critique of President Truman’s decision to fire General MacArthur was omitted because the only other notes from the period were on
Atlas
Shrugged.
5.
Cryptic notes.
Some material was too cryptic to be intelligible. Since AR typically wrote in complete sentences, such notes are rare.
Cryptic notes.
Some material was too cryptic to be intelligible. Since AR typically wrote in complete sentences, such notes are rare.
I have taken this opportunity to publish a few pieces that are not from AR’s journals, but are closely related to her notes and of great interest to her fans. In Chapter 10, for example, I have included AR’s testimony before the House Un-American Activities Committee, which is followed by her notes on the hearings.
Other books
Maid of Sherwood by Shanti Krishnamurty
The German Fifth Column in Poland by Aleksandra Miesak Rohde
Sweet Forever by Ramona K. Cecil
The Undead Hordes of Kan-Gul by Jon F. Merz
Trying to Score by Aleo, Toni
My Little Blue Dress by Bruno Maddox
Bloodsongs by Robin W Bailey
Jealousy and In The Labyrinth by Alain Robbe-Grillet
What's a Boy to Do by Diane Adams
Beautiful Agony (A Tale Of Savage Love, Part I) by DuBois, Dominique D.