Sharing the pain: My saga continues
God, I hate "Atlas Shrugged"
Okay, Okay, I know I'm going at this with some baggage, and you've heard it all before. I've tried to compensate for that but this book is SO ANNOYING. If it wasn't from the library, I would be throwing it against the wall every night after I've finished my penance.
Last night we were introduced to a whole cast of annoying characters: The guy who owns the steel mill - a visionary who is stifled by his truly dreadful family: His mother (Rand seems to have a thing against mothers - they are either dead or should have died a long time ago), his awful brother, his awful wife, and some milquetoast friend.
They all berate Our Hero after he has had just a ducky day making some new steel that no one has ever made before to run the choo-choos that everyone is still taking. At first, I thought I might find a little sympathy for the steel guy, but - just like everyone else in a Rand novel - he is an asshole.
That's the thing of it: There's no one likable in this book. There was hardly anyone likeable in "The Fountainhead either, although I kind of liked Ellsworth Toohey, and I ADORED Dominique Francon. I liked her dad also. He kind of reminded me of my Dad. The only one who has even the slightest glimmer of hope for me is the lady who runs the railroad with the awful brother - and that may just be because I like to ride the train.
Except for her (so far) "Atlas Shrugged" is set in a world where everyone is an idiot, except for the assholes. There's evidentially some sort of global depression going on as well, as people keep commenting moreosely on "the condition" and "how bad things are nowadays". Nothing like a bunch of whiners to really perk up the day.
So that's Chapter Two. only 1000 pages more to go (I had originally said 1500 but I was wrong. Thank God) I don't know how much more of this book I can take: After all, I'm not as young as I look, and I think My Old Condition (Dropsy? Housemaid's Knee? That Old Football Injury?) might be flairing up. I might need to just sit on the deck for a few days and drink beer.
Okay, Okay, I know I'm going at this with some baggage, and you've heard it all before. I've tried to compensate for that but this book is SO ANNOYING. If it wasn't from the library, I would be throwing it against the wall every night after I've finished my penance.
Last night we were introduced to a whole cast of annoying characters: The guy who owns the steel mill - a visionary who is stifled by his truly dreadful family: His mother (Rand seems to have a thing against mothers - they are either dead or should have died a long time ago), his awful brother, his awful wife, and some milquetoast friend.
They all berate Our Hero after he has had just a ducky day making some new steel that no one has ever made before to run the choo-choos that everyone is still taking. At first, I thought I might find a little sympathy for the steel guy, but - just like everyone else in a Rand novel - he is an asshole.
That's the thing of it: There's no one likable in this book. There was hardly anyone likeable in "The Fountainhead either, although I kind of liked Ellsworth Toohey, and I ADORED Dominique Francon. I liked her dad also. He kind of reminded me of my Dad. The only one who has even the slightest glimmer of hope for me is the lady who runs the railroad with the awful brother - and that may just be because I like to ride the train.
Except for her (so far) "Atlas Shrugged" is set in a world where everyone is an idiot, except for the assholes. There's evidentially some sort of global depression going on as well, as people keep commenting moreosely on "the condition" and "how bad things are nowadays". Nothing like a bunch of whiners to really perk up the day.
So that's Chapter Two. only 1000 pages more to go (I had originally said 1500 but I was wrong. Thank God) I don't know how much more of this book I can take: After all, I'm not as young as I look, and I think My Old Condition (Dropsy? Housemaid's Knee? That Old Football Injury?) might be flairing up. I might need to just sit on the deck for a few days and drink beer.
posted by Catalina Vel-DuRay @ Friday, September 01, 2006
1 Comments:
At 9:38 AM,
Fnarf said…
Good lord, why are you reading this? I'll leave her philosophy to the experts, but the woman simply CANNOT WRITE. She apparently was completely deaf, judging by her dialog, which is the worst ever set to paper. Five-year-old girls playing with paper dolls have more animated characters.
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