Author's working title for this novel was ego. My reading title would be "Discovery of I'. This short, metaphorical novel of Ayn Rand is champion of individualism. (And I believe is hidden critique of Socialism)
Characters in the novel live in unknown, mysterious world – totalitarian, socialist state, where will of society rules over individual. Collective good is always taken care without bothering about individual will i.e. utopian socialist state.
Book is written in monologue fashion, where we see world in eyes of central character. We have interesting names of characters as – 'Equality 7-301', 'Collective 8-009', 'Harmony 9-2642', 'Democracy 4-6998', 'Unanimity 7-3304'. These metaphors along with absence of "I" in complete dialogue make this book vocal critique of Socialism/Communism. The character calls himself "We" and other "They" (even when talking about single person). I was confused with this "We", "They" until the climax, where central character breaks shackles of "We" – the socialist regime.
Here are some excerpts from it –
I am. I think. I will.
My hands...My spirit...My sky...My forest...This earth of mine.
What must I say besides? These are the words. This is the answer.
I stand here on the summit of the mountain. I lift my head and I spread my arms. This, my body and spirit, this is the end of the quest. I wished to know the meaning of things. I am the meaning. I wished to find a warrant for things. I am the meaning. I wished to find a warrant for being. I need no warrant for being, and no word of sanction upon my being. I am the warrant and the sanction.
Many words have been granted me, and some are wise, and some are false, but only three are holy: "I will it!"
Whatever road I take, the guiding star is within me; the guiding star and loadstone which point the way. They point but one direction. They point to me.
I know not if this earth on which I stand is the core of universe or if it is but a speck of dust lost in eternity. I know and I care not. For I know what happiness is possible to me on earth. And my happiness needs no higher aim to vindicate it. My happiness is not the means to any end. It is the end. It is its own goal. It is its own purpose.
Neither am I the means to any end others may wish to accomplish. I am not a tool for their use. I am not a servant of their needs. I am not a bandage for their wounds. I am not a sacrifice on their altars.
I am a man. This miracle of me is mine to own and keep, and mine to guard, and mine to use, and mine to kneel before!
I do not surrender my treasures, not do I share them. The fortune of my spirit is not to be blown into coins of brass and flung to the winds as alms for the poor of the spirit. I guard my treasures: my thought, my will, my freedom. And the greatest of these is freedom.
