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May 17, 2019ryankegley rated this title 3 out of 5 stars
Unfortunately, three stars is not an accurate depiction of my feelings about the mammoth dystopian philosophical sci-fi melodrama romance action novel that is Ayn Rand’s “Atlas Shrugged.” Yes, it is all those things, and more, as Rand threw pretty much everything but the kitchen sink into the 1168 pages of her fourth and final novel. Rand is not a great writer, at least not of fiction. Everything exists, not in the service of the characters or the story as one might rightfully expect, but merely for her philosophical aims. Characters are largely one-dimensional, all-good or all-bad. Heroes are driven by something so innately pure (to her and them anyway) that everything in their lives — the entire world itself — can only be seen and acted upon through this perfect lens. Villains border on the comically grotesque, so obviously stupid and ridiculous their words and deeds are meant to be perceived. Dialogue is often atrocious, as if Rand had never had, let alone heard, a normal conversation, and is written in a way that is impossible not to imagine it spoken in that 1930s and ’40s Hollywood Mid-Atlantic stagey way. The story itself is sprawling and unwieldy — as you might expect at eleven hundred-plus pages — attempting to encompass the entire dystopian world Rand is meant to have built, while remaining intimate enough so that we might actually give a damn about the protagonists. The problem is that the world she’s built is often just as one-dimensional as her characters. Everyone everywhere — the world over! — has lost their minds and is falling hook, line, and sinker for the most cartoonish version of socialism you might imagine. The premise of the novel — what happens if the prime movers of the world went on strike — isn’t a bad one. Nor are many of the fundamentals at the heart of Rand’s philosophy (which is not the same thing as the fundamentals of her philosophy). Frequently, though, character, story, and philosophy blend into perfect harmony. It is at those times the story is a delight to read. When they are out of sync, however, the story is an absolute bear, and I sometimes found myself needing days, or, in a couple of instances, weeks, before I could bring myself to go back for more. If you’re considering “Atlas Shrugged,” know that, regardless of your politics or philosophical viewpoint, reading it is a commitment not to be taken lightly. It’s the literary equivalent of an ultramarathon, and it will test your patience, your stamina, and, sometimes, your will to live. (I’m only half-joking about that last one.)