The Early Ayn Rand полностью

She went on to explain that malevolence — the feeling that man by nature is doomed to suffering and defeat — is all-pervasive in our era; that even those who claim to reject such a viewpoint tend to feel, today, that the pursuit of values must be a painful, teeth-clenched crusade, a holy but grim struggle against evil. This attitude, she said, ascribes far too much power to evil. Evil, she held, is essentially impotent (see Atlas Shrugged); the universe is not set against man, but is "benevolent." This means that man's values (if based on reason) are achievable here and in this life; and therefore happiness is not to be regarded as a freak accident, but, metaphysically, as the normal, the natural, the to-be-expected.

Philosophically, in short, the deepest essence of man's life is not grave, crisis-ridden solemnity, but lighthearted cheerfulness. A story reflecting this approach, she concluded, a story written specifically to project pure "benevolent universe," should be written as though all problems have already been answered and all big issues solved, and now there is nothing to focus on but man acting in the world and succeeding — nothing but unobstructed excitement, romance, adventure.

In Atlas Shrugged, Dagny hears Francisco laughing: "it was the gayest sound in the world... The capacity for unclouded enjoyment, she thought, does not belong to irresponsible fools... to be able to laugh like that is the end result of the most profound, most solemn thinking." In these terms, we may say that if her more philosophic works represent Ayn Rand's profound thinking, then "Good Copy" is like the unclouded laugh of Francisco.

The story, of course, is still very early, and must be read in part for its intention, which is not consistently realized.

Laury, the young hero, is but a faint, even humorous suggestion of the heroes still to come. Reflecting the primacy of women in the early works, Jinx, the heroine, is the more mature character, and the one dominant in the action. She is ahead of Laury all the way. Yet, as one would expect from Ayn Rand, Jinx's feeling for Laury is one of the most convincing elements in the story — and she is the opposite of a feminist. "Women," she tells Laury warmly at one point, "are the bunk."

As a piece of writing, "Good Copy" represents a major advance over "The Husband I Bought." The author's command of English, though still imperfect, has increased substantially. The originality of certain descriptions and the sudden flashes of wit begin to foreshadow what is to come. The dialogue, especially the use of slang, is still not quite right; and the tone of the piece is unsteady, verging, I think, on being overly broad. But despite these flaws, the story as a whole does manage to convey a real exuberance of spirit.

Decades later, after she had completed Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand occasionally said that she wanted to write a pure adventure story without any deep philosophical theme. (At one point, she had even chosen the hero's name — Faustin Donnegal — and his description; like Laury McGee, he was to have dimples.) But she never did write it.

"Good Copy," therefore, though early and imperfect, is all we have from her in this genre. It reflects a side of Ayn Rand that her admirers will not find isolated in this pure form anywhere else.

A note on the text: In the 1950s, for the reading to her class, Miss Rand modernized some of the period expressions in the piece, substituting "sports car" for "roadster," "panties" for "step-ins," and the like. I have retained these changes in the following.

L.P.

"I wish there was a murder! Somebody chopped to pieces and blood all over the pavements... And I wish there was a fire, an immense fire, so that the gas tank would bust like a peanut and half the town'd be blown up!... And I'd like to see somebody stick up the bank and sweep it to the last nickel, clean like a bald head!... And I wish there was an earthquake!"

Laury McGee walked fast, fast, so that each step struck the pavement furiously, like a blow to an enemy. His shirt collar thrown open, the veins in his sunburnt neck trembled and tensed as he tried to draw his lips into a grim, straight line. This was very difficult, for Laury McGee's lips were young, delightfully curved, with tempting, mischievous dimples in the corners that always looked as though he was trying to hold back a sparkling smile. But he was very far from any desire to smile, now.