REVISITING RAND---THE LAST ROMANTIC?

This week was the centennial of the birth of author Ayn Rand, who wrote, among other books, the famous novels THE FOUNTAINHEAD and ATLAS SHRUGGED. I've read both several times and consider them utterly brilliant. Many people, however, would disagree---for Rand's work engendered nothing if not controversy. On February 2, 2005, the New York Times's Edward Rotherstein noted: "It is still possible, more than 20 years after her death, to find readers choosing sides: those who see her as a subtle philosopher pitted against those who see her as a pulp novelist with pretensions."

So which was Rand? Rotherstein is right: that all still depends on whom one asks.

Rand's philosophy, on its face, was simple, and she stated it succinctly: "My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute."

But this state of being is anything but simple to attain. Perhaps, ultimately, it is impossible here on Earth. For no matter how hard we strive to ensure otherwise, there will undoubtedly always be those who are villains, those who want to gain their happiness at the expense of others' own, those who don't achieve anything themselves and scorn the achievements of others, and those who insist on flying in the face of reason.

Thus, Rand is viewed by many as a Romantic, looking for Utopia. But although that assessment is often meant critically, I myself wonder why anyone, including Rand, should be criticized for setting high, even impossible, goals. Would we all be better off to aim for the mud instead of the stars? As parents, do we want our children to be the worst or the best they can be? Must an egalitarian society inevitably be a mediocre one?

I don't know the answer to this last question. I don't believe anyone does. Since time immemorial, philosophers, writers, and others have struggled with it, including Rand.

Maybe, in the end, the struggle itself is enough. For if we are still struggling with the question, then we still have dreams of a perfect world. To cease the struggle is to settle for the world we already have and to accept that all its imperfections are permanent.

And then, perhaps, Atlas will indeed shrug.