So I've finally done it. No, not started (re-re-restarted) Ulysses, because if I could get past the first 20 pages, I swear I would pay for one of those sky-writing messages. I think reading (never mind understanding) the 500+ pages of grammar no-nos that is Ulysses may be a bigger accomplishment than writing the darn thing. (Calm down. I'm kidding.)
I could keep anticipating your guesses, but it's Friday night and I'm tired, so I'm just going to get right to My Point (I'm as surprised as you).
I finally started Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.
This may be a Ulysses situation, where I read the first 20 pages 50 times and then give up, but this book has sentences with full stops so I'm fairly certain I'll get to page 50. (Again, I'm kidding. Although my Kindle says that it will take another 54 hours to read both Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead, which is a pretty daunting prediction.)
I've been avoiding it because it has been described as the 'Bible of capitalism' and I have some fundamental issues with capitalism as a social system. Although, can you really call it a social system if it's designed to benefit the few and ignore the needs of the rest of the population? (Relax, it's just a question.)
Then I read Anthem and I was (predictably) annoyed. A little more than annoyed, actually. The premise isn't that unusual: a communist fever dream where everyone is controlled by a central force and difference is anathema. My issue with these types of stories is the assumption that communism is the same thing as socialism (this is directed more at the reader than the author) and that it inevitably leads to a grim dystopia (this is wholly in the pen of the author).
I promised myself then that I wouldn't read Atlas Shrugged because I value my sanity. So what has changed? Nothing. Except that maybe my sanity is in a less precarious state. Or it's teetering on the edge of a rock on the edge of a precipice and a gust of wind will push me over into an abyss. I guess we'll have to see.
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