The Soft Side Of Dagny
At 15512 on Kindle:
"A young woman lay stretched on the sun-flooded planks, watching a battery of fishing rods. She glanced up at the sound of the car, then leaped to her feet in a single swift movement, a shade too swift, and ran to the road. She wore slacks, rolled above the knees of her bare leg, she had dark, disheveled hair and large eyes.
"Hello, John! When did you get in?" she called.
"This morning," he answered, smiling and driving on.
Dagny jerked her head to look back and saw the glance with which the young woman stood looking after Galt. And even though hopelessness, serenely accepted, was part of the worship in that glance, she experienced a feeling she had never known before: a stab of jealousy.
"Who is that?" she asked.
"Our best fishwife. she provides the fish for Hammond's grocery market."
"What else is she?"
"You've noticed that there's a 'what else' for every one of us here? she's a writer. The kind of writer who wouldn't be published outside. She believes that when one deals with words, one deals with the mind."
I credit rockymountainpirate for reminding me of this scene in AS. This is a rare glimpse of Dagny examining her emotions and empathizing with another. A poignant, human understanding and connection with romantic love. For the young girl, it goes unrequited-but Dagny feels a stab of jealousy regardless. I thought it would be fun to explore that scene a little and Dagny's first experience with jealousy. Is the scene used to foreshadow that her feelings for Hank will not be what she will experience falling in love with Galt? Is the scene actually to demonstrate the softer side of Dagny? Dagny the woman-not Dagny the railroad industrialist. Any thoughts?
As an aside: I read that this scene was in part a Hitchcock-esque cameo for Rand. If so, how interesting that the young writer is almost portrayed as Galt keeping her "innocent and pure" in the Gulch. As we know, that writer would be published "out there" and achieve the prominence of one the most important thinkers of the 20th century.
"A young woman lay stretched on the sun-flooded planks, watching a battery of fishing rods. She glanced up at the sound of the car, then leaped to her feet in a single swift movement, a shade too swift, and ran to the road. She wore slacks, rolled above the knees of her bare leg, she had dark, disheveled hair and large eyes.
"Hello, John! When did you get in?" she called.
"This morning," he answered, smiling and driving on.
Dagny jerked her head to look back and saw the glance with which the young woman stood looking after Galt. And even though hopelessness, serenely accepted, was part of the worship in that glance, she experienced a feeling she had never known before: a stab of jealousy.
"Who is that?" she asked.
"Our best fishwife. she provides the fish for Hammond's grocery market."
"What else is she?"
"You've noticed that there's a 'what else' for every one of us here? she's a writer. The kind of writer who wouldn't be published outside. She believes that when one deals with words, one deals with the mind."
I credit rockymountainpirate for reminding me of this scene in AS. This is a rare glimpse of Dagny examining her emotions and empathizing with another. A poignant, human understanding and connection with romantic love. For the young girl, it goes unrequited-but Dagny feels a stab of jealousy regardless. I thought it would be fun to explore that scene a little and Dagny's first experience with jealousy. Is the scene used to foreshadow that her feelings for Hank will not be what she will experience falling in love with Galt? Is the scene actually to demonstrate the softer side of Dagny? Dagny the woman-not Dagny the railroad industrialist. Any thoughts?
As an aside: I read that this scene was in part a Hitchcock-esque cameo for Rand. If so, how interesting that the young writer is almost portrayed as Galt keeping her "innocent and pure" in the Gulch. As we know, that writer would be published "out there" and achieve the prominence of one the most important thinkers of the 20th century.
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Chapter 7, The John Galt Line:
Once, when she was sixteen, looking at a long stretch of Taggart track, at the rails that converged - like the lines of a skyscraper-to a single point in the distance, she had told Eddie Willers that she had always felt as if the rails were held in the hand of a man beyond the horizon-no, not her father or any of the men in the office-and some day she would meet him.
She shook her head and turned away from the window.
She went back to her desk. She tried to reach for the reports. But suddenly she was slumped across the desk, her head on her arm. don't, she thought; but she did not move to rise, it made no difference, there was no one to see her.
This was a longing she had never permitted herself to acknowledge. She faced it now. She thought: If emotion is one's response to the things the world has to offer, if she loved the rails, the buildings and more: if she loved her love for them-there was still one response, the greatest, that she had missed. She thought: To find a feeling that would hold, as their sum, as their final expression, the purpose of all the things she loved on earth...To find a consciousness like her own, who would be the meaning of her world, as she would be of his...No, not Francisco d'Anconia, not Hank Rearden, not any man she had ever met or admired...A man who existed only in her knowledge of her capacity for an emotion she had never felt, but would have given her life to experience...She twisted herself in a slow, fail movement, her breasts pressed to the desk; she felt the longing in her muscles, in the nerves of her body.
Is that what you want? Is it as simple as that? she thought, but knew that it was not simple. There was some unbreakable link between her love for her work and the desire of her body; as if one were the completion of the other-and the desire would never be satisfied, except by a being of equal greatness.
Her face pressed to her arm, she moved her head, shaking it slowly in negation. She would never find it. Her own thought of what life could be like, was all she would ever have of the world she had wanted. Only the thought of it- and a few rare moments, like a few lights reflected from it on her way-to know, to hold, to follow to the end...
She raised her head.
On the pavement of the alley, outside her window, she saw the shadow of a man who stoood at the door of her office.
And the tranquility, the scenery, the visual of someone who is producing even if it's not their chosen trade for the time being and loving it all the same, the comradery of being around like minded individuals and the peaceful comfort they all feel (oh whoa whoa whoa whoa) of being in that environment. The list of pluses goes on and on with this scene
---SO much of the book resonated with me I can't remember them all...but when I was reminded of this part recently it knocked me over because a couple of paragraphs covering about 10 seconds of time is so full of meaning. You can't read that and not have a happy sigh reaction.
I completely agree with your last point.
Also, how a young Ayn Rand would behave in the presence of a John Galt. She got to explore that a bit. Something she longed to experience and never did.
Thank you for posting this. As every one of Rand's passages are, it's brilliantly written.
"I thought it revealed the soft side of Rand."
huh. excellent
The first time we meet Dagny is a great example of her soft side-- the reader sees her on the train where she takes a moment to feel the music of Richard Halley and talk with the brakeman. Then transition to Jim's office where he says "You don't feel anything!"
The scene is in the book for a reason, and we're in Dagny's head and it's about emotions.
This scene should be included into the movie.