Ayn Rand would have celebrated her ninety-ninth birthday this month. One wonders what she would think of the world in her 100th year. Atlas Shrugged came out in 1957. So how does a 48-year-old story hold up? Keep in mind that styles and tastes have changed since then. Here's the opener:
"Who is John Galt?"
The light was ebbing, and Eddie Willers could not distinguish the bum's face. The bum had said it simply, without expression. But from the sunset far at the end of the street, yellow glints caught his eyes, and the eyes looked straight at Eddie Willers, mocking and still
-- as if the question had been addressed to the causeless uneasiness within him."Why did you say that?" asked Eddie Willers, his voice tense.
The bum leaned against the side of the doorway; a wedge of broken glass behind him reflected the metal yellow of the sky.
"Why does it bother you?" he asked.
"It doesn't," snapped Eddie Willers.
He reached hastily into his pocket. The bum had stopped him and asked for a dime, then had gone on talking, as if to kill that moment and postpone the problem of the next. Pleas for dimes were so frequent in the streets these days that it was not necessary to listen to explanations and he had no desire to hear the details of this bum's particular despair.
"Go get your cup of coffee," he said, handing the dime to the shadow that had no face.
"Thank you, sir," said the voice, without interest, and the face leaned forward for a moment. The face was wind-browned, cut by lines of weariness and cynical resignation; the eyes were intelligent.
Eddie Willers walked on, wondering why he always felt it at this time of day, this sense of dread without reason. No, he thought, not dread, there's nothing to fear; just an immense, diffused apprehension, with no source or object.
I've read Atlas Shrugged at least a half-dozen times, and am about due for another trip through dollar-land. I now skip the lectures, but still love to read the story. So how would I edit the opener above now? Hmmm…
First things first
"Who is John Galt?" (Great hook. You have to read the next sentence.)
The light was ebbing, and Eddie Willers could not distinguish the bum's face. The bum had said it simply, without expression. But from the sunset far at the end of the street, yellow glints caught his eyes, and the eyes looked straight at Eddie Willers, mocking and still
-- as if the question had been addressed to the causeless uneasiness within him. (I like this, too. It works toward setting the scene-- time of day, street scene-- and characterizing both the bum and Eddie.)"Why did you say that?" asked Eddie Willers, his voice tense. (I would suggest doing something other than the adjective because characters don't ordinarily perceive their own voices as a listener would. But they can, i.e. …his voice sounding thin and tense inside his head. This pulls you deeper into the character. On the other hand, I wouldn't insist on a change because this is not an uncommon usage.
The bum leaned against the side of the doorway; a wedge of broken glass behind him reflected the metal yellow of the sky. (More nice scene-setting.)
"Why does it bother you?" he asked.
"It doesn't," snapped Eddie Willers. (Ordinarily I opt for "said" as a dialogue tag, but this works as action, too.)
He reached hastily into his pocket. The bum had stopped him and asked for a dime, then had gone on talking, as if to kill that moment and postpone the problem of the next. Pleas for dimes were so frequent in the streets these days that it was not necessary to listen to explanations and he had no desire to hear the details of this bum's particular despair. (Don't care for the "hastily" adverb. How about: He stabbed his hand into his pocket for a coin.)
"Go get your cup of coffee," he said, handing the dime to the shadow that had no face.
"Thank you, sir," said the voice, without interest, and the face leaned forward for a moment. The face was wind-browned, cut by lines of weariness and cynical resignation; the eyes were intelligent. ("Without interest" doesn't work well for me. Interest in what? Nor does it show. Even using "gratitude" seems to me more appropriate. On the other hand, repetition of "the face" works because Rand is keeping the bum as more of an object, somehow less than human. This works to her large themes.)
Eddie Willers walked on, wondering why he always felt it at this time of day, this sense of dread without reason. No, he thought, not dread, there's nothing to fear; just an immense, diffused apprehension, with no source or object. (Raises good story questions.)
For a paid effort, I might get a little pickier
RR
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© 2005 Ray Rhamey