Last Day in Paris: Adieu to the Arc de Triumphe, a boat ride down the Seine and a midnight climb up the Eiffel

Arc de Triumph


This is part of a travelogue, chronicling my twenty-one day trip to Europe last summer. 

 On our last day in Paris, Derek and I walked down the Champ Elysees to the Arc de Triumph.  We were on a street corner, looking at our map when  a young French woman approached us and asked us where we were going.  She then walked us most of the way.  She said she was going that way to deliver a letter anyway.  I thought, her mailbox is awfully far away from her apartment.  Between you and me I think she was just being nice.

Stairwell up the Arc de Triumphe

 I can not emphasis enough how valuable getting a Paris pass is.  We saved hours waiting in line.  We got to bypass everyone and go straight to the top.  This was true for all the museums as well.  The only things that the pass didn't cover was Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower.

I had no idea how huge the Arc de Triumphe was.  I got a lot of cute bookmarks from the gift shop on top.

That evening Derek and I went on a boat ride.  While we waited on the Seine river for it to commence I took a few more photos of the Eiffel Tower.  It is so impressive, I couldn't stop snapping.  Every angle seemed to demand I preserve the moment with my camera. 

I'd like to see this guy get in his little car.

Scenes along the Seine

The following photos are what we saw on the boat ride along the Seine.

As we floated under a bridge.

It was hard to keep track of what the recorded narrator said about each building on the ride because it was repeated in several different languages: German, English, French, Chinese, Japanese etc.

 When we finally returned it was around ten o clock.  As you can see it is still light.  Summer days are  very long in Paris.  We got in line to get to the top of the Eiffel.  The wait was over two hours.

The tower in the evening, around eleven pm.

 It was a long arduous wait, but we arrived at the top of the Eiffel at precisely midnight.  My camera didn't take the most brilliant photos of Paris at night, but I think they have their own special appeal.

At the foot of the Eiffel looking straight up.

At the second level of the tower.

Midnight on top of the Eiffel.

By this time I am more than a little wiped out.

Paris at night or abstract art?  Maybe both!

Paris at midnight

Elevator going down to the second level.

 We found out at the second level that we could climb down the stairs to the ground.  Derek and I eagerly got out of the elevator line and began climbing down one of the legs of the tower.  Or rather, we ran down.  I wasn't sure when the subway trains stopped running.  I didn't relish the idea of getting a taxi.  Taxis are the only negative experience on my European trip.  The drivers really are a bunch of crooks.  The only reason you should take a taxi is if you have money to burn.

Running down the stairwell of the Eiffel

Derek and I sprinted to the closest subway station, a block away, only to find ourselves ensconced among crowds of people also waiting  for the train.  Silly little east Texan.  Paris stays open long after midnight.

I saw many scenes on the subway I would have liked to capture with my camera.  One was the pole I was grabbing with twenty other hands.  It was such a cool image:  all these disembodied hands and arms going off in all different directions and angles.

The Eiffel Tower at midnight

Another scene I'll always remember was a couple of young French girls who were seated next to where I was standing.  The one girl was dominating the conversation chatting away a mile a minute as the train wound its way up to the near northern section of the city where my hostel was.

Suddenly, at one stop, she jumped up with an exclamation. She and her friend pushed their way out of the crowd barely before the doors closed.  Evidently they were not intending to disembark here.  By the girl's breathless and excited laughter I knew there must be somebody they knew outside on the platform that they weren't expecting to see.  Or maybe they came upon their stop more quickly than they realized.  

 I looked out the window and saw the object of their excitement.  Or objects. Two young men were there waiting for  them.  I wish I could adequately describe this girl and how she laughed as she made her way through the crowd to get to her male friends.  To me it was such a charming picture of Parisian youth culture.
 

Exhausted and barely able to stand, Derek and I walked the few blocks from the subway to our hostel.  We were starving, but what was open?  Across the street from our place was a Turkish falafel shop.  We went in and for only a couple of Euros plowed through plates piled high with lamb and french fries, washed down with coke. 

While I was standing at the counter waiting for my food, a group of young people sauntered in.  A pretty girl with flowing curly hair stood next to me and grinned hugely at me.  At this point in time, she would not have passed anybody's sobriety test.  She said a few words in French to me but quickly surmised I didn't understand and switched to English.  The remainder of the time in the restaurant she spoke English to everybody, including the cook, whom she joined behind the counter, insisting that she help him.

As I sat down at my table and ate, I thought, "That's great.  This girl can speak fluent English drunk and I can't speak comprehensible French sober.  I blame it on our educational system."

At two in the morning, Derek and I dragged ourselves up the four flights of stairs to our rooms and collapsed onto our beds.  We didn't bother changing clothes.  We had to get up in two hours to catch our plane to Barcelona.  

Goodbye Paris.  I hope we'll meet again one day.

Previous posts of my European Trip:

Another Day in Paris: Arc de Triumphe

Paris First Day

Switzerland :Gimmelwald and Murren

Third Day in Switzerland

Montreux, Switzerland

Milan

Venice 

Pisa and Cinque Terre 

Florence 

Rome 


 
Further Links:

Paris Pass

Paris Museum Pass 

Eiffe's Tower by Jill Jonnes 

One of Life's Slaves by Jonas Lauritz Idemil Lie

Edward Munch, The Storm 1893

First, I apologize to my readers who have commented that they have not received new posts from me.  I’m a free lance pianist/organist and I am currently working four jobs:  twenty singers and twenty-four instrumentalists I play with, an opera, and pipe organ for church.  Just a leetle busy. 

And…I’ve recently become engaged so time I usually reserve for reading has been otherwise occupied.  (Insert huge smile here). 

I have managed to read one book finally.  Thanks to Zohar over at Man of laBook, I have become aware of a Norwegian author whose books, at least some of them, are free downloads at Amazon.  The first one I’ve read is called, One of Life’s Slaves.  It is a rather grim story and I’m not sure what the author’s reasons were for writing it, but I’ll speculate on this after the review.

A young woman, Barbara, gets pregnant out of wedlock.  Since in the 19^th century, this is considered a scandalous condition, Barbara is hard put to find work.  She finally procures a job as a wet nurse and nanny at a well-to-do household on the condition that she get rid of her own child.  This she does by paying a local village family, the Holmans, to care for her son, Nikolai.

Barbara’s life takes a turn for the better where she becomes a pampered, spoiled and imperious “servant” of the family that hired her.  She raises the two children as if they were her own, while rarely visiting her own blood child.

Nikolai’s fortunes go from bad to worse.  He is exploited, neglected and abused at the hands of his foster mother, Mrs. Holman.  He is treated like a slave and any minor infraction is severely punished with prolonged beatings and being made to spend terrifying nights in a coal cellar.

Still, Nikolai manages to grow up, run away from his foster family and get work as a black smith.  He returns to the Holman household in secret, however, because he has formed an attachment to their daughter, Silla, who grew up with him. They meet in secret for as long as they are able.  Though his life takes many adverse turns, Nikolai manages to earn enough money to ask for Silla’s hand in marriage. 

Mrs. Holman tries to intimidate Nikolai with her usual imperious, demanding and sanctimonious manner and speech but he has become hardened to them.  Furthermore he is determined to marry Silla.  Doing her best not to show Nikolai, Mrs. Holman is secretly hopeful of the prospective marriage.  Her own husband has since drunk himself to death and she has had to rely on doing the washing of town folk.  Because of her caustic attitude she loses as much work as she gains.  She begins to think that if Silla and Nikolai were to marry, she’d have a source of financial security by moving in with them.

The fly in that ointment is that Nikolai’s mother, Barbara, who has by this time moved in with him.  The family she worked for finally developed enough of a back bone to throw her out and her attitude of entitlement has successfully ostracized her from any other employers.

Demanding that Nikolai cannot abandon his very own mother, she persuades him to let her move in.  Plus he gives her his hard earned savings to buy a store.  This forces him to postpone his marriage plans. 

Barbara eats more of her products than she sells and the store goes under.  Oblivious as to the reasons her store is going bankrupt, she demands more money from Nikolai.  He refuses to give her more and the reader, with a sigh of relief, hopes that finally Nikolai has wised up and will boot his parasitical mother out.

This is not to be, however.  After blaming Nikolai for all her life’s misfortunes, Barbara threatens to seek help from Veyergang, the boy she wet nursed.  Nikolai cannot tolerate this so he gives her the money.  He understands that this ruins his chances of ever marrying Silla.

Things finally come to a head when Nikolai reviews the hardships he’s had to endure his entire life.  Who made his life hard?  Mrs. Holman who abused and neglected him through out his childhood?  His mother, Barbara, who abandoned him and, literally, ate up all his money?

Common sense would dictate that this was the case.  Nikolai, as tragic as he is, is made even more so by an amazing lack of common sense.  After reviewing all his misfortunes he arrives at the conclusion that it is Veyergang who is the cause of them all.

Part of his prejudice could perhaps be explained by the fact that this rich young man has enjoyed everything Nikolai lacked:  a wealthy, privileged home, the love of Nikolai’s own mother, and finally he has begun wooing Silla.

Silla is a young, silly girl.  She loves Nikolai but also loves fun and dancing.  Nikolai provides the former without any of the latter.  Who does?  Young Veyergang.  It is at a dance where Nikolai find Silla and Veyergang together.

Nikolai hurls a large stone at Veyergang’s head and kills him.  What is the conclusion to Nikolai’s life?  A life time of hard prison labor.  The final words of the novel are uttered by Nikolai as he swings his pick:

“If I got out (of prison), it would only be to come in again.  For either the world ought to go to prison or I ought, and I suppose it may as well be the last!”

I have wondered what the point to this dismal tale could be.  Is Lie hoping to show people their pious hypocrisy?  Is he trying to awaken their compassion for the misfortunate?  Is he hoping to strike their consciences by recognizing their own pharisaical and heartless attitude?

It’s possible.  The characters certainly weren’t meant to portray the complexities of actual people.  They all seem to represent types.  Two types, really:  the selfish and the innocent victim whose life suffers as a result of others’ selfishness. In this sense the story reminds me of the short stories of the Indian writer, Rabindranath Tagore.

There were not any compassionate people in this story to counterbalance the bad.  All of them were the worst of any bad guy Charles Dickens could conjure up without any of his good characters to provide relief and ultimately hope.  Dickens always gave us the ending we wanted.  Lie feels no need to provide the reader with any sense of good triumphing over evil, rather the opposite.

Reading a biography of Lie, he is known for creating characters and story that colorfully depict the folk life of the Norwegian people in the 19^th century.  That he certainly does.  The writing is impeccable and the characters are vivid.  And I must say that the story, for all its sordidness, drew me into the time period and culture quite effectively.

And for that reason alone, One of Life’s Slaves are worth reading.

Another day in Paris: Arc de Triomphe, Eiffel Tower, Champs Elysees

It has been quite some time since I posted.  Then I've been having problems with getting posts published.  I THINK I have solved the problem.  We'll see if anyone gets this post.  This is my last day in Paris, but not the last post on it.  My experience on the Eiffel tower deserves its own post.  

These photos were taken on the Champs Elysees, the Arc de Triomphe, the River Seine, and the Eiffel Tower.

The Champs Elysees

Arc de Triomphe

View from the Arc de Triomphe

Atop the Arc de Triomphe

View of the Champs Elysees from the Arc de Triomphe

Underbelly of the famous Arch

Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold by C.S. Lewis

When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about the joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces? (Till We Have Faces)

Most people are familiar with C. S. Lewis' famous books, The Chronicles of Narnia.  If they haven't read the books, they may have seen the movies, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and Prince Caspian.  

Others may have read his Science Fiction trilogy, Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra and That Hideous Strength.

If you haven't read those books, I can't recommend them enough.  Especially if you're an adult and a huge fan of science fiction, I recommend Lewis' Space Trilogy.  I have friends who prefer it over his Narnia Chronicles.  

This review, however, is about a lessor known work of Lewis.  It is a retelling of the Greek myth, Psyche and Cupid.  When I was a young teenager, this was probably my favorite Greek myth because it was so romantic.  For those unfamiliar with the story here it is briefly:

Psyche is a young woman, the youngest of three daughters.  All the daughters are beautiful, but Psyche is the most beautiful.  In fact she is so breathtaking that men start to worship her and neglect the alters of Aphrodite.  Aphrodite notices this and determines to destroy Psyche.  She sends her son Cupid to earth to cause her to fall in love with a hideous monster who presumedly will eat her. 

 Cupid comes to earth and enters Psyche's room.  When he sees her, he falls deeply in love with her and instead of doing what his mother tells him to, he takes her away to a palace where he keeps her as his wife.

The catch is that for the time being, he only comes to her in secret at night.  She may not see who he is and has to have faith that he is truly a beloved husband that loves her.

Psyche is OK with this until her sisters come to visit.  They persuade Psyche that her husband is really a horrible monster that is planning on eating her.  They convince her that her only hope is to kill him in his sleep.

Psyche determines to do this, but when she lights a candle in order to see, she realizes that her husband is not a hideous monster but the manifestation of love itself, Cupid.  Cupid wakes to see Psyche looking at him, holding a knife and departs.  His parting words are, "Love cannot exist without faith."

Lewis takes this theme but turns it into a metaphor for something real and greater: an eternal love story between God and mankind.

The story is told through the eyes of a woman, now old, named Orual.  She wants her side of the story told because she believes that she is unfairly accused of what transpired between her and her younger sister, Psyche.  

Psyche and Orual are the daughters of a ruler of a pagan land, contemporary with the ancient Greeks.  They worship a goddess, Ungit.  Due to their father's inept ruling and drought, it is decided that Ungit wants a sacrifice.  Only the most beautiful and pure of heart will qualify.  Orual is disqualified because she is considered too ugly.  In fact, her father thinks her so ugly that she takes to wearing a veil across her face for the rest of her life.

Psyche on the other hand, is very beautiful.  Not only is she lovely to look at, but she is kind and compassionate as well.  She willingly goes as a sacrifice out of a sincere desire to help the people of her country.

For many days after Psyche is left alone on a mountain, Orual is sick and bedridden.  When she is able to get up, she rushes to the mountainside where Psyche was left.  When she arrives, she is surprised and delighted to discover that Psyche is alive and well, living on the mountain.

When Orual questions Psyche about how she is able to survive by herself on a desolate mountain, Psyche informs her that she is not alone.  She is married to the God of the mountain.  Orual demands to see her palace.  Psyche tells her they are standing in front of it.  Orual sees nothing but mountain and trees and decides that Psyche is crazy.

A hot debate ensues between Psyche and Orual ending with Orual demanding to know what the God of the Mountain looks like.  Psyche admits that she is forbidden to look at him.    Orual uses this piece of information to wedge a chink of doubt into Psyche's heart.  

Orual wants Psyche to return with her so they can continue to live as sisters.  She begs and cajoles Psyche proclaiming her great love for her and that she is living a lie and a delusion. There is no God of the mountain, and she is really living with a monster who is biding his time to kill her. Why a monster who would have nothing to lose would take so long and take such good care of his supposed victim, Orual refuses to explain.

 Finally, to prove her sincerity and ardor, Orual takes her knife and thrusts it through her own arm.  This so shocks Psyche that she agrees to Orual's demands.  Namely, to take a candle and look upon her husband to see if he is really a monster or not.

Pysche disappears to fulfill this.  In a moment, Orual hears a heart rending scream.  Not of someone who has seen a monster, but of someone who realizes they have lost the most precious thing in the world to them.  

For a brief moment, Orual looks up to see a huge palace and Psyche walking away, her hands covering her face, sobbing.  Then she sees a man walking up to her. He informs her that "Psyche goes into exile" and that Orual "shall know herself and her work" and "also shall be Psyche".

Orual interprets this to mean that she will share in Psyche's punishment.  She returns home, and shortly after, on her father's death, becomes ruler of the country.  

Unlike her father, she proves herself to be an able, just and wise ruler and her country soon prospers.  But she lives a lonely life, always covered with her veil because of her ugliness.

Interestingly, many of the women she knew as a youth, she realizes that after they married and had children, they no longer stayed beautiful but their husbands still were devoted to them.  She slowly comes to realize that she allowed her father's cruel words to determine her own value and self-perception.

In her old age, Orual comes across a shrine in a forest dedicated to the worship of Psyche.  She listens to the priest tell the story and realizes that she, Orual, is presented as the villain.  She explains that is why she has written her narrative.  So she can be vindicated.

But something happens as she writes the story.  She begins to see what she really did and the final part of the book ends with Oraul accusing the God but suddenly realizing what she actually did:

You stole [Psyche] to make her happy, did you? Why, every wheedling, smiling, catfooted rogue who lures away another man's wife or slave or dog might say the same. Dog, now. That's very much to the purpose. I'll thank you to let me feed my own; it needed no titbits from your table. Did you ever remember whose the girl was? She was mine. Mine." (292; Part II, Ch.3). 

And that is the crux right there.  Finally Orual admits to herself that she was angry with the God of the mountain for taking what she believed was hers.  That it cost Psyche her husband, her happiness, her life, mattered not at all.  She wanted Psyche back because she believed that Psyche belonged to her.

As she confesses her selfish motives a dawning revelation shatters everything she thought she knew and made her bitter.  Psyche never belonged to her.  She belonged to the God of the mountain.  She always belonged to Him.  She stole that which belonged to Someone else.

And not only that, Orual also belonged to Him.  When she finally gives up her selfish rebellion against him, she has a vision where Psyche returns to greet her at a river.  She looks into the river and sees that she, too, is as beautiful as Psyche.  She also is the bride of God.

The metaphor is that the original goddess, Ungit, is man rebelling against their true God.  Instead of having a relationship that is so deep and personal that it is compared to marriage with Him, they choose instead to worship and enslave themselves to something that is not real.  Their sinful nature makes horrible barbaric demands on themselves and others that they attribute to the goddess.

The writing of Till We Have Faces is in the formal, grave manner of ancient Greek stories.  The text is pure Lewis with all the perspicuity, charm and wit that all his stories contain.  One will need to read the original myth first, I think, and also understand the scripture:

For your Maker is your husband, the Lord of hosts is his name; and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer, the God of the whole earth he is called. Isaiah 54:5

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure”— for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints. And the angel said to me, “Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” And he said to me, “These are the true words of God." Revelation 19:7-9

Till We Have Faces is the last book C.S. Lewis wrote.  His inspiration was his wife, Joy Davidman, to whom he dedicated the novel.

$8.52 on Kindle:

Further links:

Heroic Orual and the tasks of Psyche

Bride of Christ scripture

C.S. Lewis and the numinous of relationships

https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2072983-till-we-have-faces

Paris: Day two

No emails to share this time.  I'll just describe the photos and what I remember about them.

The Louvre

The Winged Victory of Samothrace:  Nike

Rodin sculpture inside the entrance to the Louvre

The Seine

You can see Notre Dame Cathedral in the distance.

Notre Dame Cathedral

The thing that struck me about Notre Dame was its powerful presence.

The park behind Notre Dame was a great place for lunch.  It also had free wifi.

Gargoyles

Inside Notre Dame

                        We were privileged to witness mass.

Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley

Halloween is over but who says I can't write another review on a scary book.  Besides, Frankenstein can't be said to be a "Halloween" book in the sense that those kinds of books involve the supernatural.  Frankenstein is not a horror book in that sense, but it is a deeply psychological, disturbing account of one woman's idea of humanity.

A young scientist, Victor Frankenstein, becomes obsessed with the idea of creating life.  He neglects his family, friends and himself for over a year until he finally achieves what he has devoted every waking hour to accomplish.

The moment his creature comes to life, Frankenstein is immediately horrified at what he has done.  He deserts his creation and tries to forget about him.  As time goes by, he becomes hopeful that his horrible creation has simply gone away.  He soon discovers his mistake when the creature murders his younger brother and frames the nanny, who hangs for the crime.

The creature eventually  approaches Frankenstein and fills him in on all that he's been doing since Frankenstein abandoned him.  What follows is the thrust of the entire novel.  The monster pours out his heart to Frankenstein.  The reader discovers that the monster is intelligent, articulate, eloquent and desperately lonely.  His yearnings and desires are the same as humans.  He longs to be loved and to belong to people.

But his looks make him an outcast.  All who see him are repelled by him.  Not only repulsed but develop an absolute hatred for him and try to kill him.  No one asks questions first.  They all believe he should be destroyed based purely on his exterior appearance.  This point is clear  when the monster meets a blind man with whom he has a conversation and who shows him kindness and compassion.  So it's not his personality or any primitive thinking or behavior on the monster's part that turns people against him.

The rejection and murderous antipathy against him enrages the monster and makes him desperate.  He demands that Frankenstein make him a mate so he will not be desolate.  This at first Frankenstein agrees to do but later destroys the woman creature before he brings her to life.  The reason is because he fears that together they would create a race of fearsome "uber creatures"  that could potentially take over the world.

In revenge, the monster kills directly or inadvertently, every family member and friend of Frankenstein's, including his bride on their wedding night.

What I find interesting is that it is not considered wrong by Frankenstein or anyone else to try to murder the monster (or "creature" or "daemon" or "fiend" as he is also called-but never "Frankenstein") based solely on the fact that he is grotesque looking.  But Frankenstein asserts that the reason his creation deserves to be destroyed is because of the crimes he has committed.  The monster did not commit any of these crimes until after his isolation and alienation drove him to it.  I'm not justifying what the monster did but only trying to point out the double standard.

Now that he is equally alone and desperate, Frankenstein's one purpose in life is to destroy what he made.  He hunts the monster all over the world.  The monster stays just out of reach, but not so far that Frankenstein gives up.

Both the monster and Frankenstein end up in the arctic regions of the world where they are discovered by the captain of an ice bound ship.  By this time, Frankenstein has driven himself beyond his strength and health.  He collapses and is taken aboard the ship where, dying,  he relates the entire story to the Captain, who is the original narrator of the book.

When he dies, the monster appears in the Cabin and confronts the captain.  Upon learning that Frankenstein's vengeful obsession has finally killed him, the monster bounds out of the window of the cabin and disappears...to end his own life?  Who knows.

Mary Shelley started writing this book when she was nineteen and it was published when she was twenty-one.  Her husband, Percy Blythe Shelley heavily edited the novel but an edition came out in 2008 that removed Percy's additions and contains only Mary's original story.  It would be interesting to compare.

I looked up the origins of Prometheus.  In Greek mythology he was a titan who brought fire to the human race.  For doing so he was punished by being chained to a rock where an eagle would come and devour his liver every day.  Prometheus also came to symbolize the human quest for scientific knowledge when it over reaches itself.

I am not sure what Shelley's point was in writing the story (other than her dream and the writing contest she participated in one night in Geneva with her husband and other writers).  She was not a Christian but she seems to implicate God in some respects.  Is she saying that man's fall from Eden was due to their Creator's rejection of them? Is she saying man shouldn't try to play God?  

Does she believe in the human soul or that life can be created without it?  Did the monster have a soul?   If there is no soul, then what makes murder wrong?  You've simply turned an animate life form into an inanimate one.  What makes life valuable?  Surely more than the need to simply preserve the human race.

What she does successfully portray, either intentionally or not, is humanity without mercy or compassion for the desperate or the fallen.  Frankenstein's abhorrence of his creation seems to be based on the presumption that he himself is not fallen.  The Bible says all are desperately wicked. Romans 3:23

I compare this to the life of Jesus who forgave even the most sinful when they fell at his feet in repentance. 

If Mary Shelley's book typifies secular philosophy then even though it maintains a certain moral code,  it certainly provides no hope for those who can't keep to that code.

.99 on Kindle

The Fountain Head and Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand Guest Post: Joshua Wilfong

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  A friend of mine asked if I had ever read Ayn Rand. I said, "No. Wasn't she a proponent of the "elephants should rule the ants" philosophy? I asked him if he had read her books and what did he think of them. The following is his response.

  
  

  The Fountainhead focuses on personal talent and individualism. The protagonist is a talent visionary architect who refuses to adapt his designs to meet cultural norms. This works because he is a genius. The establishment is painted as lazy and lacking creativity.

  I always worry about this kind of encouragement of self direction. It works great if you are a genius but most of us are not. Her main point is the ability of a single human to succeed on their own merit and without support from society. This sentiment was echoed in other works of the time such as "Rollerball" (a movie about a sport player who was so good he didn't need a his team to win, and how he was hated for it).

  Her main Characters are examples of the spectrum of submission to society. Some wish they could be Roark (the architect) or fight him but, all represent levels of personal compromise (some simply lack talent and can only survive by copying established ideas).

  In the end all of Roark's horrible actions are validated by how talented and smart he is.

  Atlas Shrugged echoes some of these ideas on a corporate and national scale. The title discusses what would happen if the titans who hold up the world shrugged and walked away.

  Topics such as subsidies for companies that can't compete are discussed. The heroes are innovators who work hard to protect their businesses from overtaxing by the government and weak competitors who cry for "fairness."

  "Looters" is the term for people who break down monopolies or demand "fairness" in business. Nationalization is taken to extreme examples. The idea is that a business must fight to stay on top and if another can do it better then, naturally, the first will go away.

  Overall, Rand's examples are unbalanced and do support the Elephant idea you mentioned. I enjoyed cheering for the brave, smart, handsome heroes as they fight convention and an overbearing government. But, the untalented are cast to the side and there is little room for compassion. It fails to satisfy my Christian pallet.

  
  

  This is the first time I've posted a book review on my blog about books I've never read. If you have read these books, please share your opinions. 
  
  Joshua has his own blog where he kept a travelogue of his time in Antartica. You can visit it at: MacGuffin Hunting