Understanding Ayn Rand: Step one
Having devoured several John Grisham’s I’ve got used to his style so much that his courtroom conversations have become predictable to certain extent. Ayn Rand’s ‘Night of January 16th’ a small play about a murder trial springs surprises. I’ve attempted reading Atlas Shrugged a few years back, but in vain. This work is pretty easy to understand, but I could barely fathom her intended ‘Romantic Symbolism’ message.
In the introduction to the book (which consumes 13% of total number of pages), Ayn Rand states:
A sense of life is a preconceptual equivalent of metaphysics, an emotional, subconsciously integrated appraisal of man’s relationship to existence. I emphasize this last be cause it is a man’s attitude toward life that constitutes the core and motor of his subconscious philosophy. Every work of fiction (and wider: every work of art) is the product and expression of its author’s sense of life. But it may express that sense of life translated into conceptual, i.e. philosophical, terms or it may express only an abstract emotional sum. Night of January 16th is a pure, untranslated abstraction.
Nevertheless, there are some mass-appealing sequences:
Nancy Lee: Mr. Stevens, that supposition is insulting to me
Stevens: I haven’t noticed you sparing insults, Mrs. Faulkner
Nancy Lee: I’m sorry, Mr. Stevens. I assure you that was not my intention
Flint: Mr. Regan, what do you do when prospective clients refuse to pay your protection?
Regan: I’m legally allowed not to understand what you are talking about
Flint: Very well, you don’t have to understand. May I question you as to whether you read the newspapers?
Regan: You may
Flint: Well?
Regan: Question me.
That’s Life !
This book describes the poor migrants’ daily struggle for existence in the slums of Calcutta (now Kolkata) and the support extended by Christian Missionaries (prominently – a Polish priest named Stephan Kovalski). Descriptions of everything in the book – the characters, places, events – are so vivid and at times brutal, that they moved me to tears several times. The book is about Calcutta, but it brought to my sudden attention the ubiquitous pain and suffering that we so often see in Mumbai, but have learnt live with and to dismiss right away.
On the flip side, the book seems to bolster the stereotype image of India (or a ‘third world’ country) and seeks to exaggerate the facts – providing matinee entertainment for the western audience.
But, that image is superficial. At deeper level, you’ll know how people are still so rich of life, in spite of being poor; (no, it does not glorify poverty). I read every page with disbelief and learnt a how and why optimism, altruism and faith are essential ingredients of humanity. I would recommend it to anyone who wishes to absorb the meaning of life.
Once upon a time, the pavements on the road from Flora Fountain to Churchgate station were lined up with a number of booksellers, treasuring thousands of books. The courts ordered their eviction some four months back, a thing I plainly dismissed as ‘unpractical’ and ‘unjust’. They couldn’t be doing this to Mumbai, and it would be a matter of days until they came back, I felt. My visit to that place last week told me how wrong I was.
I graduated reading Mass Transfer Operations by Treybal and Reaction Engineering by Levenspiel, and almost all of my Engineering knowledge came from books purchased from this street. I would get my supply of Robert Ludlums and Jeffrey Archers for the holidays, or simply spend time browsing through the books (and glance at the Playboys!) on my ocassional visits to teh uptown.
This street was the unofficial ‘book street’ of Mumbai, something everyone was proud of. ‘Yeh book kahan milega?‘, ‘Fountain’, came the default reply. Stocked with books ranging from almost all subjects known to mankind, these booksellers, most of them barely literate, were smart archivers.
Alas, this book street has been ripped out mercilessly from the heart of the metropolis.
Related reading: Dance bars, yes. Books, no!, What did the books do to you?
From riches to rags, and peace of mind
This is a story of a young lawyer Michael Brock, on the verge of a partnership in a giant law firm, Drake and Sweeney. The money was good and work getting better until he came across a violent encounter with a homeless man. Michael starts investigating about him, only to get introduced to a whole new world of the homeless, of shelters, drugs and crime on streets.
The experience transforms Michael. He is no longer able to work in his plush office while the people outside are dying. Mordecai Green, a lawyer at a street clinic offers him a job for a partly salary, and Michael promptly quits Drake and Sweeney. Some systematic inquiry leads him to a dirty secret, one involving his own firm. Meanwhile the firm is preparing a case against Michael…
Grisham has mixed the right amounts of fiction and reality – divorce, street life, drugs, killings, romance, thefts and courtrooms. Only at some places does one finds excessive analysis in black and white, picturing the rich evil lawyers and poor innocents on the streets.
This was the second John Grisham novel that I read and definitely loved it.
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