Atlas Shrugged – Day 090 – pp. 962-971
D’ja ever read something so good that you couldn’t stop?
That’d be Chapter VI – The Concerto of Deliverance.
Rand’s finally got it going. Far as I’m concerned, this has been the best chapter in the book so far. Made the 962 pages leading up to it all worth the effort.
Plots uncovered. Schemes unraveled. Vengeance. Fight scenes. Heroic deaths. Lives saved, snatched from the jaws of death. And even a rather hokey ending for which I gladly suspended any and all sense of reality. (And, in reality, not even too hokey.)
Yeah, I read it all. But I’m still going 10 pages at a time, so suck it up. Let’s get busy.
OK, so the plot against Hank is beginning to become clear.
“…the steel workers’ union of Rearden Steel demanded a raise … Hank Rearden learned it from the newspapers; no demand had been presented to him … The demand was made to the Unification Board … He was unable to tell whether the demand did or did not represent his workers … the group consisted of those newcomers whom the Board had slipped into his mills … the Unification Board rejected the union’s petition refusing to grant the raise…”
Step 1: create a potentially explosive situation.
“…the newspapers of the country … began a campaign of commiseration with the workers of Rearden Steel. The printed stories about the refusal of the wage raise, omitting any mention of who had refused it … as if counting on the public to forget … The printed a story of the hardships of the workers … a story on the plight of a Rearden worker’s wife trudging from store to store in a hopeless quest for food … [then they began to editorialize] … “We fear an outbreak of violence,” the newspapers kept repeating.”
Step 2: shape the public’s opinion and expectations.
“On October 28, a group of the new workers at Rearden Steel attacked a foreman … a similar group broke the ground-floor windows of the administration building. … smashed the gears of a crane, upsetting a ladle of molten metal within a yard of five bystanders.”
Step 3: light the fuse.
I don’t know if this was how things worked back in the 50s or whether Rand was just a visionary. But, my God, doesn’t it all sound familiar today? (Actually, read the “Creature from Jekyll Island” and you’ll see these are the same tactics they used to create the modern day Fed. Yeah, some things, I guess, never change.)
Hank, meanwhile, is sitting by quietly. He’s at least figured out how to deal with these outbursts. The more you resist, the more you react, the more they pull you in.
“On the morning of October 31, he received a notice that all his property, including his bank accounts and safety deposit boxes… [had been frozen in response to some judgement that never happened.]”
So Hank’s left with a few hundred bucks in his pocket [and a certain bar of gold tucked away in the safe in his apartment.]
“Next day, on November 1, he received a telephone call from Washington…”
So sorry about the snafu, Mr. Rearden. Wasn’t you we meant to freeze. You’ll get everything back with interest in a couple days as soon as we get the paperwork sorted. And if you’ll file the claim…
But Hank ain’t filing nothing. Bravo.
Let ’em go about their business. He’s made himself into a human pinata and oddly, doing nothing is his best defense.
Phone rings again. It’s Tinky Holloway.
Sorry about the snafu. You can be sure we’re anxious to help you in any way we can. Maybe you’d care to join us for a meeting where we can get this all sorted out.
Haven’t asked for your help. Haven’t asked for your protection. Haven’t asked for anything.
He’s left them with no recourse but to tell the truth.
“…then won’t you just give us a hearing?”
“If you have anything to say to me.”
They do. Hank agrees.
Cut to Tinky hanging up the phone. He’s with Claude Slagenhop.
“He’ll come, but … no, not so good. … I don’t think he’ll take it.”
“That’s what my punk told me.”
“I know.”
“The punk said we’d better not try it.”
Huh???
“The punk was Phillip Rearden…”
Ah ha! He was after something for the looters when he came to see Hank.
Seems to me, that Hank is finally giving in to doing things the John Galt way. Letting the looters have their way. His resistance was the only thing that gave them power. (Of course we’ve been over and over that point.) But he’s finally taking non-action.
Rand goes on to say that under Directive 10-289, if the G seizes Hank’s mills, the family gets shut out. Phillip is really doomed. And the only reason the G would completely seize Hank’s mills would be if…
Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking.
Anyway, day of the big meet rolls around and Hank gets a call from, Mama. Urgent, urgent, urgent. They must speak. He must come to the house. Can’t talk about it on the phone.
Fine. Hank arrives at 4 pm.
“He had expected to see his mother and Philip; he had not expected the third person who rose, as they did, at his entrance into the living room: it was Lillian.”
(Apparently I’ve been spelling Philip wrong this whole essay. Coulda sworn I was seeing 2 “l’s.” I gotta my prescription checked.)
“They had counted on his pity and dreaded his anger; they had not dared consider the third alternative: his indifference.”
Yeah!!
“What is it that you wanted?”
“Mercy, Henry…”
Apparently, because of his frozen assets, the allowance he still gives to Mom and Phil didn’t clear. They’re broke too. She wants to know what he’s going to do about it.
“Nothing.”
Atta boy!
Mother’s begging him but he’s taking the same tact. Sorry, Ma. Can’t do anything. Actually, there’s a little sweet revenge. Hank explains that this is the world they all envisioned in their fondest dreams before. One where private property didn’t exist. Where everything was shared. Where everyone gave in for the sake of the common good. Now he’s been forced to give in. And they’re all gonna starve and die.
“Well… well, I guess the blame is ours. That’s what I wanted to tell you– that we know we’re to blame. … Henry, we’ve sinned against you, and we confess it.”
Just a liiiiiiittle too late.
Reality has begun to set into the three of them. Without Hank’s evil capitalist ambition to protect and feed them, they’re pretty much fucked.
Mom want’s to speak of forgiveness.
Not Hank. Forgiveness is pretty much pointless now. Won’t change the past.
“What he saw in her eyes was terror — not the helpless terror of struggling and failing to understand, but the terror of being pushed toward the edge where to avoid understanding would no longer be possible.”
We can’t change the past.
To be continued…