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Mocking, Childish Review

The ending, with the Statue of Liberty emerging from the beach, was a nice twist. "You maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, damn you! God damn you all to hell!" As it turns out, it was Earth all along.

And, yes, for those keeping score at home, I do intend to use this exact same review for every dystopian novel I read. At least I amuse myself and, really, isn't that what matters most?

Slightly Less Childish Review

Look, I fully appreciate how Ayn Rand and her family suffered at the hands of the Soviets before she fled for America in the 1920s, and I understand how that would lead her to develop her virulently anti-socialist philosophy and write novels decrying the most dehumanizing aspects of communism. But, as with most propaganda -- and I don't use that word pejoratively, but simply to mean literature used to promote a cause -- it's got an expiration date. It's been two decades since the Berlin Wall fell, and for the vast majority of the world, communism isn't much of a threat anymore. So, aside from studying the history of communism, is there much reason to read such propaganda at this point, especially propaganda as lacking in literary value as "Anthem" and Rand's other books?

I owe nothing to my brothers, nor do I gather debts from them. I ask none to live for me, nor do I live for any others. I covet no man's soul, nor is my soul theirs to covet.

I am neither foe nor friend to my brothers, but such as each of them shall deserve of me. And to earn my love, my brothers must do more than to have been born. I do not grant my love without reason, nor to any chance passer-by who may wish claim it. I honor men with my love. But honor is a thing to be earned.

Aside from plus-sized, pain-killer-addicted Republican talk-radio hosts and octogenarian former Federal Reserve chairmen, who takes this horseshit seriously at this late date?

OK, in addition to the aforementioned, I guess there's one other group of readers for Rand's novels even in the 21st century: self-centered, bookish teenagers seeking affirmation for their assumptions that they alone are individuals, they alone have it all figured out, they alone understand how the world really works, and everyone else is a mindless conformist. Stupid sheep! Then, at some point, Lord willing, those readers grow the hell up, realize that no man is an island after all, and switch to reading real literature. (If not, they become the voice of the GOP, I guess.)

As for the rest of us? Readers wanting to reacquaint themselves with Rand's writing -- especially given the two new biographies out, and much media attention being paid lately to both Rand herself and her ongoing influence on the Republican Party -- can knock off "Anthem" in less than an hour, and not have to waste their time with the brick-sized "Atlas Shrugged" or "The Fountainhead." So "Anthem" gets an extra star for being mercifully short, I guess, and available for free on the Internet. And it's a slightly better book for teenagers than "Twilight," I suppose, with a marginally better message. Marginally.