[mburbank]

"I have a particular distrust of literature created to make people feel good about being assholes."

BINGO!

This book is a pillar in the fine tradition of books which are lengthy valentines to their author. Here's what I think the book is about.

"I'm Ayn Rand, and I'm totally wonderful. My barbaric behavior towards you is proof of my wonderfullness and you should love me for it. No, not love, worship in recognition that I'm more vital than you. My selfishness and self obesession? Just proof of how really big my wonderfullness is. I can do anything I want and I never, never need to feel the least bit bad about any of it because life is my orgasm and the fact that I'm incapable of knowing anyone exists in the same way I do let alone caring about what they think or how they feel is just proof that no one exists in the same way I do. I'm not amoral, I'm perfect. And as you read this you can feel really good about all the shit you've pulled because as long as you don't think you're as perfect as me, and recognize my uber perfection, I'm happy to support the idea that your shitty behavior and self obsession is proof you're pretty perfect too. Now crouch down and be my footstool, and if you could acknowledge that my insisting you be my footstool is proof of my perfection, that would be good."


She's also a terrible, terrible, terrible, dilaogue writer, and my suspicion is she wrote her 'philosiphy' in the form of a novel because she sucked egss at expository writing as well.