Reading: Atlas Shrugged

“Who is John Galt?”  I’ve been asking myself that a lot over the last few weeks.  Well, more than 1000 pages later, both that question and the world we’re living in are starting to make a whole lot more sense.

This is simply a book you must read yourself.  It’s a compelling narrative, that can stir deep thinking about humanity and change (or confirm) your perspective of what it means to really produce.  It’s timely, given where America is headed politically these days.

I’ve heard about Rand’s novels for years, and have been urged by close friends (including my wife) to read them.  I knew they had philosophical undertones, but they always seemed to get trumped by more obviously compelling material.

That changed over the last few months when Atlas started cropping up for me everywhere.  I noticed it in blogs I follow, in business texts I was studying, even in the mainstream media.  It was time to read it (and I wasn’t alone, see this Wall Street Journal article about a recent spike in sales).  I wasn’t disappointed.

There are several speeches in the book that you’ll undoubtedly dog-ear to reread in the future, particularly Francisco d’Anconia’s about money (rather than quote it at length, you can read an excerpt here).  It’s the kind of story you’ll want to read twice, and I eagerly await that opportunity.

Rand, Ayn. Atlas Shrugged

Reading: Anathem

It’s not since Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game that I’ve been so vocal about recommending a work of contemporary science fiction. This time, it’s Neal Stephenson’s Anathem. Once I picked it up, I couldn’t put it down–all 934 pages (if you include the ‘calca’ proofs in the back).

It is a thought provoking look into two different approaches to life: the monastic ‘avout’ who pursue scientific and philosophical knowledge in communities separated from the world for long periods of time (inspired in part by the Long Now Foundation’s 10,000 Year Clock), and the external world full of casinos, cell phones, and consumerism. The former is about as appealing as the latter is unfortunately familiar.

The novel is both intellectually satisfyingly (a pleasant surprise for fiction) and simply a ‘good yarn’. Drop me a line when you’ve finished it (and not before, I’d hate to accidentally spoil the plot).

You can watch the author speaking at Google both about the book and his writing practice.

Stephenson, Neal. Anathem.

Reading: The Forgotten Man

It is rare that I recommend a book before finishing it, but the timeliness of The Forgotten Man: A New History of the Great Depression could not be denied. With all the speculation about our nation’s economic future, what better can we do then learn from the past?

The book, written by a respected economic commentator I’ve followed for some time, opens with the following quote:

“As soon as A observes something which seems to him to be wrong, from which X is suffering, A talks it over with B, and A and B then propose to get a law passed to remedy the evil and help X. Their law always proposes to determine what C shall do for X, or in the better case, what A, B, and C shall do for X… What I want to do is to look up C. I want to show you what manner of man he is. I call him the Forgotten Man. Perhaps the appellation is not strictly correct. He is the man who never is thought of… He works, he votes, generally he prays–but he always pays…”

William Graham Sumner
Yale University, 1883

After observing our government’s response to the recent financial crisis, and listening closely to the economic proposals of both presidential tickets, it is obvious that more education about the consequences of government intervention (in this case the Great Depression and the New Deal) is critical for the engaged voter.

Shlaes, Amity. The Forgotten Man: A New History of the Great Depression