The Journals of Ayn Rand (7 page)

Despite the flawed statements, it is easy to recognize AR as the author of the following notes. Her trademark—the reverence with which she regards man’s life, her intense passion for values—comes through clearly. In its combination of value-passion and moral indignation,
The Little Street
is similar to AR’s early screenplay Ideal (see
The Early Ayn Rand).

The notes also include AR’s earliest formulations on several key topics: her sense of life; the unity of thought and feeling which is experienced by a “clear mind”; the effect of the morality of sacrifice on self-esteem and moral ambition; moral compromise as an unmitigated evil; the motivation ofa soul who insists that the meaning of one’s life is to be found outside
oneself.

The Little Street
is not the only early work ofAR’s in which she chose a criminal to symbolize an independent man. In her first play,
The Night of
January 16th, the hero commits financial fraud on a grand scale and then attempts to escape by faking his own death. She explains her use of the heroic criminal in the introduction to the play, written in 1968. Her comments are applicable here.

Show it all, calmly and indifferently, like an outsider who does not share humanity’s feelings or prejudices and can see it all “from the side.”

Show all the filth, stupidity, and horror of the world, along with that which is supposed to atone for it. Show how insignificant, petty, and miserable the “good” in the world is, compared to the real horror it masks. Do not paint one side of the world, the polite side, and be silent about the rest; paint a real picture of the whole, good and bad at once, the “good” looking more horrid than the bad when seen together with the things it tolerates. Men see only one part of life at a time, the part they have before their eyes at the moment.
Show them the whole.

Show that
humanity is petty.
That it’s small. That it’s dumb, with the heavy, hopeless stupidity of a man born feeble-minded, who does not understand, because he cannot understand, because he hasn’t the capacity to understand; like a man born blind, who cannot see, because he has no organ for seeing.

Show that the world is monstrously hypocritical. That humanity has no convictions
of any
kind. That it does not know how to believe anything. That it has never believed consistently and does not know how to be true to any idea or ideal. That
all
the
“high ” words
of the world
are a
monstrous lie. That nobody believes in anything “high” and nobody wants to believe. That one cannot believe one thing and do another, for such a belief isn’t worth a nickel. And that’s what humanity is doing.

Show
that humanity is utterly illogical,
like an animal that cannot connect together the things it observes. Man realizes and connects much more than an animal, but who can declare that his ability to connect things is perfect? The future, higher type of man will have to perfect just this ability [to achieve] the clear vision. A clear mind sees things
and
the connections between them. Humanity is stumbling helplessly in a chaos of inconsistent ideas, actions, and feelings that can’t be put together, without even realizing the contradictions between them or their ultimate logical results.

A perfect, clear understanding also means
a feeling.
It isn’t enough to realize a thing is true. The realization must be so clear that one
feels
this truth. For men act on feelings, not on thoughts. Every thought should be part of yourself, your body, your nature, and every part of your nature should be a thought. Every feeling—a thought, every thought—a feeling.
[This is AR ’s earliest statement regarding the harmony of reason and emotion that follows from a proper integration of mind and body.]

Show the silent terror that is life at present, the silent terror that hangs over us, chokes us, that everybody feels and nobody can define, the nameless thing that is the atmosphere of humanity.

Show that the mob determines life at present and show exactly who
and
what that mob is. Show the things it breaks, the precious enemies that it ruins. Show that all humanity and each little citizen is an octopus that consciously or unconsciously sucks the blood of the best on earth and strangles life with its cold, sticky tentacles.

Show that
the world is nothing but a little street.
That this little street is its king and master, its essence and spirit. Show the little street and how it works.

Religion:
show what it means when thought out consistently; what it does to man; who needs it; who defends it with all the ferocious despotism of a small, ambitious nature. The great poison of mankind.

Morals (as connected with religion): the real reason for all hypocrisy. The wrecking of man by teaching him ideals that are contrary to his nature; ideals he has to accept as his highest ambition, even though they are organically hateful and repulsive to him. And when he can’t doubt them, he doubts himself. He becomes low, sinful, imperfect in his own eyes; he does not aspire to anything high, when he knows that the high is inaccessible and alien to him. Humanity’s morals and ideals, its ideology, are the greatest of its crimes. (“Unselfishness” first of all.)

Communism, democracy, socialism
are the logical results of present-day humanity. The nameless horror of [these systems], both in their logical end and in the unconscious way that they already rule mankind.

Family-life: the glorification of mediocrity. Elevating the “everyday” little man’s existence into the highest ideal for mankind.

Show that humanity has and wants to have: existence instead of life, satisfaction instead of joy, contentment instead of happiness, security instead of power, vanity instead of pride, attachment instead of love, wish instead of will, yearning instead of passion, a glow-worm instead of a fire.

All the “realistic” books have shown the bad side of life and, as good, have shown the good of today. They have denounced that which is accepted as bad and set up as a relief or example that which is accepted as good. I want to show that there is no good at present, that the “good” as it is now understood is worse than the bad, that it is only the result, the skin over a rotten inside that rules and determines it. I want to show that all the conceptions of the “good,” all the high ideals, have to be changed, for now they are nothing but puppets, slaves and accomplices to the horrible [stifling] of life. There are too many things that people just tolerate and don’t talk about. Show them that it
can’t be tolerated, for all their life is a rotten swamp, a sewer, a dumping place for more filth than they can ever realize.

Show that the real God behind all their high words and sentiments, the real omnipotent power behind their culture and civilization,
is the little street,
just a small, filthy, shabby, common little street, such as exist around the center of every town in the world.

Show them the real, one and only horror—
the horror of mediocrity.

Danny Renahan.
The boy.

He is born with the spirit of Argon and the nature of a medieval feudal lord. Imperious. Impatient. Uncompromising. Untamable. Intolerant. Unadaptable. Passionate. Intensely proud. Superior to the mob and intensely, almost painfully conscious of it. Restless. High-strung. An extreme “extremist.” A clear, strong, brilliant mind. An egoist, in the best sense of the word.

He is born in a small town, into a poor, very average family. He grows up lonely, hating everybody and being hated by everybody. (?) Very unpopular in school—for his imperious, masterful character. No love-affairs or drinks. Too straightforward and too absolute for the rest of the boys. Dangerous, too. People don’t trust him, instinctively, feeling him to be an “outsider.”

Show his battle with the world. He is too impatient to toil slowly through the years for the things he wants. Too uncompromising to succeed in the way of the popular young men who know how to get along with those in power. Too intolerant to “get along” with anybody. Too passionate not to burn with disgust for life as he sees it and with humiliation at not being above the mob, crushing it under his feet, giving it orders instead of trying to satisfy it, of crawling before it for its good graces. He is unable to understand how he can act and live as an equal with those he knows to be inferior to him, those he despises and has a right to despise. More passionate than strong. Daring and courageous; but without the patient courage that can fight through, slowly, against disgust. A man that can slash with an [ax], but can’t saw patiently. Too brilliant and fiery a nature to be able to handle any “job” and make money. Crushed by a stupid, ignoble poverty. Too restless and innately, unconsciously romantic to “make good” in the way of the model, average, hard-working young man.

As a result, he is perfectly cynical. Stone-hard. Monstrously cruel. Brazenly daring. No respect for anything or anyone.

He is medium height and slender. Has strong, rather irregular features, as though cut by quick, sharp blows. Not a beautiful face at all but fascinating because of its strength. Deep, dark eyes, dark more through their expression than through the color, burning with the intense fire of a strong, restless soul. His gaze is piercing and threatening under two straight, severe eye-brows. Rather frightful eyes, that make people feel uneasy. He has a large mouth, like a wound slashed in his face. The lower lip is thicker than the upper. He has a habit of an ugly grin that twists his mouth so that one comer only is raised and the upper lip curled, as in a snarl, which gives him an expression of disgusted cruelty.