Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Rand and Aesthetics 10

Naturalistic Romanticism. Rand introduces one other category of hybrid Romanticism in addition to Byronism, as explained in the following passage from The Romantic Manifesto:

Going farther down, one can observe the breakup of Romanticism, the contradictions that proceed from a premise held subconsciously. On this level, there emerges a class of writers whose basic premise, in effect, is that man possesses volition in regard to existence, but not to consciousness, i.e., in regard to his physical actions, but not in regard to his own character. The distinguishing characteristic of this class is: stories of unusual events enacted by conventional characters. The stories are abstract projections, involving actions one does not observe in "real life," the characters are commonplace concretes. The stories are Romantic, the characters Naturalistic. Such novels seldom have plots (since value-conflicts are not their motivational principle), but they do have a form resembling a plot: a coherent, imaginative, often suspenseful story held together by some one central goal or undertaking of the characters.

The contradictions in such a combination of elements are obvious; they lead to a total breach between action and characterization, leaving the action unmotivated and the characters unintelligible. The reader is left to feel: "These people couldn't do these things!"

With its emphasis on sheer physical action and neglect of human psychology, this class of novels stands on the borderline between serious and popular culture. No top-rank novelists belong to this category; the better known ones are writers of science fiction, such as H. G. Wells or Jules Verne. (Occasionally, a good writer of the Naturalistic school, with a repressed element of Romanticism, attemps a novel on an abstract them that requires a Romantic approach; the result falls into this category. For example, Sinclair Lewis's It Can't Happen Here.) It is obvious why the novels of this category are enormously unconvincing. And, no matter how skillfully or suspensefully their action is presented, they always have an unsatisfying, uninspiring quality.




The arbitrary nature of Rand's aesthetic constructs is rather carelessly on display in this passage. What she is basically saying (though she is shrewd enough not to put it so simply) is that if a novelist sub-consciuosly believes that people have free-will in regards to existence but not in regards to consciousness, they will produce novels which will project "abstract" stories combined with "conventional" characters!

Rand's slipshod analysis raises many questions without answering a single one. What on earth does she mean by stories with "abstract projections"? How does one distinguish such stories from those with "non-abstract" projections? What, precisely, is an action "one does not observe in real life"? Does she mean impossible actions? Or merely improbable actions? What is this nonsense about free will in regards to one's own character? What evidence does Rand have to support the implausible contention that human beings choose their own character? And what is she suggesting when she implies that novels belonging to this category don't have plots because "value-conflicts are not their motivational principle." Isn't a plot merely "a purposeful progression of logically connected events leading to the resolution of a climax." Isn't such a progression possible without value conflicts? (Incidentally, how does Rand know that there are no value conflicts in the science fiction of Verne and Wells? Has she read all such literature?) And what evidence can Rand provide for her implausible conjecture that an author who combines exciting narratives with conventional characters believes "sub-consciously" that human beings have free will in regards to existence but have no free will in regard to consciousness? How could anybody believe, whether sub-consciously or in any other way, in such an absurdity? And how does Rand know they believe such things? Implausible conjectures require ample and detailed evidence. Yet Rand provides no evidence at all for her belief. We are expected to accept it on her say-so alone. Why should we do so?

Rand's aesthetic categories are vague, arbitrary, empirically dubious, logically incoherent, and useless. The primary controlling principle behind them seem to be Rand's own personal tastes. They are a kind of philosophical window dressing sloppily pasted over her preferences for exciting, plot-driven stories of grand-scale heroes engaged in value conflicts. Since Rand realized that some narratives might have grand-scale characters without exciting plots, she contrived her category of Byronic Romanticism. For narratives with exciting stories but conventional characters, she devised this second, nameless category.

Rand could have saved a great deal of futile labor if she had just wrote: "I prefer novels and plays with grand-scale heroes and exciting plots." For that's really what her distinction between Romanticism and Naturalism amounts to in the end.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

I thought it might be instructive to see somebody else try to use Rand's aesthetic analysis, and this post seems to fit, since I'm guessing she'd characterize the author's work as natural romanticism. Behold, I give you two essays on H. P. Lovecraft, as analyzed by a Randian.

http://mars.superlink.net/~neptune/HPL.html
and
http://mars.superlink.net/~neptune/Lovecraft.html

If you're not familiar with Lovecraft, this won't help of course, but just a quick illustration to demonstrate the author's misinterpretation. The author claims that HPL has a malevolent universe, of course. However, Lovecraft's contention was that the universe is indifferent to us.

Man is not insignificant as man, which is what the author seems to be driving at, but on a cosmic scale. In essence, the universe was here before us, and it'll be here after we're gone. Any general essay on Lovecraft's fiction/philosophy should be enough to let you figure out just how wrong these analyses are, even if you haven't read his work. Much of it is online, BTW.

http://www.hplovecraft.com

non-hypothetical blind guy

Ken said...


Incidentally, how does Rand know that there are no value conflicts in the science fiction of Verne and Wells? Has she read all such literature?


Or any such literature. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea is nothing but one long value conflict between Captain Nemo and the rest of the world. In fact, Nemo is almost Galtian in his determination to destroy the rest of humanity to preserve his values, and also in his possession of fabulous technology which allows him independence on his own secret base.

Wells is a little trickier since so much of his work is driven by his social commentary - but that's certainly not something Rand could object to, right? The Sleeper Awakes has a great deal of value conflict, although likely not of a sort that Rand would enjoy; and Doctor Moreau is another Galtian "society cannot limit what superior men such as myself choose to do" character.

Thank you, Anonymous, for the links to the Lovecraft analyses.

Rey said...

Captain Nemo and the Time Traveller are conventional chararacters? Fail.

"And what is she suggesting when she implies that novels belonging to this category don't have plots because 'value-conflicts are not their motivational principle.' Isn't a plot merely 'a purposeful progression of logically connected events leading to the resolution of a climax'[?]"

Yes. That is exactly what plot is, and usually the "logic" connecting the events is some sort of conflict. Rand did not discover this, even though she presents it like some sort of keen insight; conflict is assumed by Aristotle when he talks about plot following a character's change of fortune, and conflict is woven into the very fabric of Freytag's five-part plot structure. Her insertion of "value" isn't novel to narrative theory either because it's obvious that characters in conflict are in conflict because they want (and therefore value) different things.

Rand must have sensed that if she stuck with such a simple definition (even with the superfluous addition of the word "value" to the word "conflicts"), all sorts of literature that she unilaterally declared to be plotless by virtue of them being "Naturalistic" would, in fact, have demonstrable plots, forcing her to revise her terms (and perhaps her literary theory) or revise her estimation and/or categoritization of those novels.

Rand doesn't do revision, so what's an inflexible, dogmatic pop philosopher to do? Admit she made an error or six? Hardly. So "what is she suggesting...?" She seems to be skirting the edges of or a values-qua-values equivocation by implying that only certain value-conflicts qualify for proper plots, but without any explanations or examples to evaluate, I'm left thinking, "Yes, plots have conflicts and incompatible values are at the heart of most conflicts. All this was known before you wrote it down. So what's your point?"

gregnyquist said...

I thought it might be instructive to see somebody else try to use Rand's aesthetic analysis

Thanks for the links. There is not much in the way of literary criticism based on Rand's aesthetics. Most of Rand's followers seem more interested in politics and philosophy. And unlike Rand's political theories, which are popular among libertarians, her aesthetics simply doesn't travel. It's influence among non-Objectivists seems to be nil.

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea is nothing but one long value conflict between Captain Nemo and the rest of the world.

I'm pleased that someone familiar with this literature (which I am not) is able to confirm what I suspected all along.

It's important to note that the evidence we are unconvering of Rand's penchant for making sweeping (and sometimes malicious) statements about authors and books she hadn't read is not confined to her aesthetics. It's a pattern repeated throughout her philosophy. Worse, when she did read something, she often read it maliciously, with the desire to find flaws and justify her narrow prejudices, rather than to understand the author.

Ken said...

"It took me a good while to decide," the commander [Nemo] went on. "Nothing obliged me to grant you hospitality. If I were to part company with you, I'd have no personal interest in ever seeing you again. I could put you back on the platform of this ship that has served as your refuge. I could sink under the sea, and I could forget you ever existed. Wouldn't that be my right?"

"Perhaps it would be the right of a savage," I replied. "But not that of a civilized man."

"Professor," the commander replied swiftly, "I'm not what you term a civilized man! I've severed all ties with society, for reasons that I alone have the right to appreciate. Therefore I obey none of its regulations, and I insist that you never invoke them in front of me!"

This was plain speaking. A flash of anger and scorn lit up the stranger's eyes, and I glimpsed a fearsome past in this man's life. Not only had he placed himself beyond human laws, he had rendered himself independent, out of all reach, free in the strictest sense of the word!


From 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (Project Gutenberg text). I doubt even Rand could provide a clearer statement of the ideals of the Randian hero. I know she didn't provide a briefer one :-).

J. Goard said...

Given her description of her life's work as the projection of the ideal man, and the examples she gave us, doesn't it seem likely that Rand's "conventional" actually means "insufficiently reflecting the conventions of the bodice-ripper genre"?

Curious Reader said...

I wonder what category she would put Heinlien in? I guess he is to much of a "pure libertarian" for her so she would probably say his work falls into this extremly derogatory category.

It was, curiously, Heinlien that drew me to Rand when I was in high school. I had read "the moon is a harsh mistress" and somebody recommended Anthem and Atlas to me. I read them, and then read "stranger in a strange land."

Stranger makes Atlas look like it was written by a semi-literate child.


Seriously, fully half of Rand's published novels could be reasonably called "science fiction" in the period they were written. And as a sci-fi writer she is decidely below average herself.

Once again her the person nearest her in ability is L. Ron. Hubbard. The similarities between the two continue to grow as I learn more about each of them.

The only differance is that Rand actually believed her own brand of crazy.

kishnevi said...

Miss a few days and come back to find you've put up an excellent post.

But reading such things as they lead to a total breach between action and characterization, leaving the action unmotivated and the characters unintelligible. The reader is left to feel: "These people couldn't do these things!" and The stories are abstract projections, involving actions one does not observe in "real life," the characters are commonplace concretes you could them apply to Rand's own novels. Especially the last line: And, no matter how skillfully or suspensefully their action is presented, they always have an unsatisfying, uninspiring quality.
Oh, wait. I missed this: they do have a form resembling a plot: a coherent, imaginative, often suspenseful story held together by some one central goal or undertaking of the characters.
So that lets her off the hook. No way Atlas Shrugged could be described as coherent, imaginative, or suspenseful.