of the novel as a viable form may be annecessary consequence of the prevalencenof the collectivist ethos. More broadly,nhowever, the novel cannot carry thenweight of ideological rectitude. The successfulnnovel depends not only upon literarynskills but also upon a depth of insightninto man and life and upon anrigorous honesty in depicting them^-Nonman with great depth of insight X^n inwardlynsubscribe to the simplificationsnof an ideology, nor can he vindicate thenpropositions of an ideology without foregoingnhonesty.nAyn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged showsnthe pitfalls of using the novel as a devicenfor praising or defending the free market.nUndoubtedly she intended to do justnthat. Yet the work fails as a novel tonthe very extent that it succeeds in vindicatingnthe free market. Her heroes arencaricatures, not because they are largernthan life but because they fall so farnshort of realizing the full potentialitiesnof man. Her villains are caricatures ofnvillains, not because they are more villainousnthan villains may be but becausenthe villainy is simply a reflex of theirn(wrong) ideas. Her ideology prescribednthat no one be dependent upon anyonenelse. Thus her Utopia had to be sansninfants and the aged senile. There couldnbe no place in it for the lame, the haltnand the blind; hence, they simply do notnexist. Thus one hardens one’s heart,nnarrows his vision, and becomes an intolerantnadvocate of the free market.nMiss Rand made a pie without a crust:nher free market was ideologized; herncharacters were caricatures; and hernnovel was drivel. The novel cannot bearnVol. 4, No. 4, July/August 1980nPolitics & Hatrednthe weight of ideology.nIt is not that novels may not successfullyndeal with ideas, at least in certainnways. On the contrary, some of thengreatest novels of the 19th century—nthe century of the novel—dealt withnideas. Dostoyevsky’s work comes mostnreadily to mind, but Turgenev’s hardlynless so. But their premier subject isnindividual persons, not ideas. It is mennobsessed, possessed, gripped, warpednand bent by ideology that is their subjectnmatter. They caught the reductionistntendency of ideology long before it hadnbecome generally apparent and saw mennshaken and undone by it. I can imagine,nfor example, a quite successful novelnwhose plot involves a person who believesnwith all his heart and soul in thenfree market. He goes into business timenand again, only to fail more miserablyneach time he does. Such a novel wouldnsucceed, as a novel, to the extent thatnit traces the failure of the man to somethingnwithin him.nSuperficially, much of the above isnirrelevant to Takeover. The novel isnsurely not about the free market as annidea. It may be about what the latenLudwig von Mises called the hamperednmarket, but that is doubtful. In fact, itnis hardly a novel of ideas at all. Its genrenis the expose novel, a variety of somenduration. Its species is investigativenjournalism as fiction. It is a sort of peepnshow into the sordid world of corporatenexecutives. It is peopled with stereotypes,nwhose views one knows before henhears them, and whose acts follow fromnwhat we know about them from anthumbnail sketch. The plot unfolds, butnTyrmand; Editor’s Comment; Thompson on Hook and Rifkinn(Philosophy & Public Policy, The Emerging Order); Fox on Buckleyn(Saving the Queen, Stained Glass, Who’s On First); London on Talesen(Thy Neighbor’s Wife); Tanner on Atwood (Life Before Man);nSchwartz on Hawkes and de Toledano (The Passion Artist, DevilnTake Him); Pradl on Warhol and Hackett (POPism); Klute on Frenchn(The Bleeding Heart); Levine on FitzGerald (America Revised);nVasilash on Colter (Night Studies); Cage on Viorst (Fire in thenStreets); Pilon on Krasnov (Solzhenitsyn and Dostoevsky); Scott onnKriegel (On Men and Manhood); Commendables; In Focus; Screen;nMusic; The American Proscenium; Journalism; Liberal Culture.nnnthe characters remain what they werenwhen first encountered. They neitherngrow nor deteriorate; they only changentheir stances to accommodate shiftingnperspectives. They are children whonhave achieved the height and adoptednthe appetites of men, but who play thenchildish games of dot-to-dot with corporatenstructures.nIf Messrs. Schmertz and Woods havengiven us an accurate portrayal of thencorporate executive. Wall Street variety,nthey would have done better to havendocumented it in a nonfiction book.nThe authors are described as officersnand directors of one of the world’s largestncorporations. It might well be thatnthey know whereof they speak. At anynrate, they would be entitled to a respectfulnhearing.nThere is no need, however, to debasenthe novel by presenting such moralnpygmies as men. Man is capable of anconsiderable degree of development,ngrowth, degeneration or expansion. Hencan be hero or villain, saint or sinner,ngreedy or generous, tough or gentle,nproductive or destructive and so on. Angiven man may be any and all of thesenat different times in the course of hisnlife. It is in these many dimensions thatnthe great and good novelists have depictednhim. It is reasonable to supposenthat a corporate executive is not just ancorporate executive, plus being an occasionalnsexual athlete. For aught I know,nsome corporate executives write poetry,nread the Bible, attend church and areneven capable of public concern whichnextends beyond their private interests.nIt is unfortunate, I think, if they act asnif they belong to a class. But if they do,nthat is surely the least interesting thingnabout them.nIt is said, or believed, that when thenbarbarians invaded Britain, they allowednthe cities to fall into decay because theyndid not know how to maintain them andnhad no use for them. It would be betternfor our current crop of writers to abandonnthe novel than to abuse what theyndo not understand. DnSeptember/October 1980n