Two Fierce Women, or, Cliff Shrugged
I. SUSAN SONTAG
In Phillip Lopate’s wonderfully illuminating, critical but warm new book, Notes on Sontag, there is a quote that speaks for me: “As one thoughtful writer friend put it, ‘I feel as if I have one brain and she has two.’”
Unlike, say, James Baldwin, Susan Sontag is not a writer I wish I could’ve gotten to know personally. For one thing, that tall, beautiful, brilliant, supremely haughty essayist/novelist most likely wouldn’t have given me the time of day. That attitude came across to an extent in those powerful essays. She could indeed make an intelligent reader feel dumb, and as Lopate explains, she did it partly on purpose — referring to obscure things and people as if everyone ought to know what or who they were, and if you didn’t, she couldn’t be bothered to explain.
If you are seriously (and quite understandably) put off by that kind of thing, then I can’t recommend her essay collections. (I can’t recommend her novels cuz I ain’t read ‘em.) But if you like looking at things in ways you might not have thought of yourself, and don’t mind doing it with the help of a larger-than-life snob; if you’re a note-taker; if you have a slight masochastic streak — in other words, if you’re like me — you might dig these three collections by Sontag:
– Against Interpretation (1966)
– Styles of Radical Will (1969)
– Under the Sign of Saturn (1980)
And I can’t recommend Lopate’s book highly enough.
II. AYN RAND
People seem to fall into one of two categories when it comes to Rand: there are the passionate embracers of her ideas, and there are the possibly even more passionate haters of her and all she stood for.
I have a foot in each camp. What I don’t like: the appalling flatness of some of her characters (most of all John Galt from Atlas Shrugged); her nonfunctioning descriptions and similes; her near-total absence of compassion; and her absolute lack of humor. (And if you come to Rand looking for irony, somebody gave you bad directions.) What I applaud: her narrative sweep and drive (especially in Shrugged); her championing of the individual; and her opposition to group-think, particularly when the result is defeatism — the attitude whose unspoken message is, What makes you think you can accomplish anything? You’re no better than me.
What’s your take?
4 Responses to “Two Fierce Women, or, Cliff Shrugged”
Sontag…..snob..hmm can’t say I’ve been bowled over..I don’t believe i’ve read her. although i think she is definitely in the house..somewhere in the piles of- wait! am i myself being snobbish……..Ayn Rand is one of those “should have” and “didn’t” reads but….Right now, I’ve an eye and am several pages into the following: Rius’comic book on “Marx for beginners”, Saramango’s “Death Interrupted”,many pages through Lao Tzu’s “Tao Te Ching”…The new yorkers profile/review on Geoff Dyer…….shiit I’m sounding a little like Ms. Sontag..a nose in this..that….You know what 10-1 i’ve read here in articles, essays…………this is my mind- the sieve (you know the boast I,ve read-and forgotten- more books than…….best
I would recommend the early journals recently published of hers, under the title “Reborn.” I found them unexpectedly moving, as the portrait of a young woman (they begin when she is 14!) whose astonishing mind and intellectual ambitions compel her to cut herself away from her family and launch herself into the world — all while she is still very young and ill-equipped to meet the challenges of emotional, sexual, & romantic entanglements with adults. Strange to find myself feeling maternal toward her. She comes across as very brave and unsupported. Also, the short version: Daniel Mendelsohn’s review of this book in the 4/15 New Republic.
Eileen
I have read Sontag’s novels — The Volcano Lover and In America — and highly recommend them. They’re both historical fiction, and made me interested in both the historical personages and the eras in a way I didn’t expect. And simply beautifully written. I haven’t read her essays, tho.
I read Rand’s The Fountainhead and am glad I did. However, I have no urge to read any of her other books. Basically I agree with you: while it was well-written and the struggle of the main character (Howard Roark) and some of the secondary characters to rise above mediocrity was inspiring, the lack of humor, utter seriousness, and blatant attempt to impart her life philosophy (as well as the fact that she doesn’t seem to have a problem with having her hero become a rapist) make me think I would just get frustrated with her if I read more.
“Referring to obscure things and people as if everyone ought to know what or who they were, and if you didn’t, she couldn’t be bothered to explain” is something that was suggested to me in graduate school, though the references–ideas, people, and things–were never obscure to the person offering the suggestion. The deal, he explained, is that if a reader doesn’t know something, he should be obliged to go find out about it, get the original sources. Of course, with Google, it’s much easier to take short cuts, but my advisor came of age well before the internet and spent his time in the library tracking down the sources and references mentioned in the books he read. Think of Ralph Ellison reading all the books in the bibliography of The Waste Land and multiply that, as much as possible, by every book or essay that you read. That’s the way to educate yourself, he believed; he seemed to regard the classroom as a necessary nuisance, a place where some people gather credentials and others earn a living.
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