Posted on 06/27/2009 7:38:16 AM PDT by Publius
Synopsis
Jim Taggart hands a hundred dollar bill to a bum on the street, and the bum contemptuously takes no notice of the denomination.
Under the Railroad Unification Plan, the machine has run down further. There are ripples.
Jim has been busy. His day began with a meeting with the Argentine ambassador where he discovered that Argentina was to be declared a people’s state in two weeks. It was followed by a cocktail party at Orren Boyle’s where it was decided to loan $4 billion to Argentina and Chile. That was followed by a party given by Jim at the bar on the 60th floor of a skyscraper that looked like a cellar in which was formed the Interneighborly Amity and Development Corporation, an outfit presided over by Orren Boyle that would possess exclusive rights to run the industrial concerns of the various people’s states of South America. The final event had been held at the home of the Chilean ambassador, who appeared to be nothing more than a gangster. Here Jim had learned that on September 2, all d’Anconia Cooper properties would be nationalized. Jim had made a mental note: sell d’Anconia, buy Interneighborly. He feels no pleasure in this because he is not thinking about money any longer, and that bothers him. In his mind is a fogbound alley that holds things he prefers not to think about.
Arriving home, Jim senses in Cherryl that things are no better here. He brags that he has closed a big deal today, and she seems neutral in her reaction. He asks for champagne while he brags that he and a group of men will control the nationalized properties of South America to help the underprivileged. He complains that slum dwellers like Cherryl have no humanitarian spirit of altruism, something that can be felt only by those born to wealth. Cherryl has no sympathy for the welfare philosophy; having come from the slums, she knows that most of the poor want something for nothing. She tells Jim straightforwardly that he doesn’t care about the humanitarian spirit either. He brags that he will end up one of the richest men in the world, and she indicates that even if he does, she wants nothing from him. She tells Jim that she respects Hank Rearden as Jim brags about having beaten him.
Cherryl is proud of what Dagny did on the radio and has noticed that the government never answered her charges. Jim explains that Bertram Scudder took the fall for that disaster. It was better for the nation – and Jim – that Scudder become the scapegoat. Scudder’s fatal mistake was his membership in the Tinky Holloway faction. The Chick Morrison faction won, and Holloway traded Scudder for some favors. Cherryl is horrified that this is the kind of victory her husband is winning. Jim complains that he did not create this world, he only lives in it. In Jim’s words Cherryl hears the echo of her drunken father.
Cherryl had worked hard to be Mrs. James Taggart, approaching the task as would a military cadet, but Jim was never satisfied. She could not understand the intellectual scum that formed Jim’s orbit. She perceived that men like Simon Pritchett and Balph Eubank were phonies. In her mind was an oncoming headlight that held things she preferred not to think about. And her worst discovery was that her husband was also a phony. The only true thing Jim had said was that he was surrounded by enemies. Conversations with people within the railroad revealed to Cherryl that his enemies did in fact work there – and he had earned their hatred. It was from Eddie Willers that she had finally learned the truth about Jim and Dagny.
When she confronts Jim about it, he turns ugly and accuses her of ingratitude. He can’t put into words what he wants; it can only be felt. Cherryl can’t accept this and says that what she loved about him wasn’t real. Cherryl now feels something – and it’s fear. Jim accuses her of being a gold-digger who trades love, but can’t just give it. Loving a man for his virtues is cold justice; it’s unearned love that matters. Cherryl explodes. Jim is a charlatan like the welfare pimps, wanting unearned love and unearned admiration. He wants to be like Hank Rearden without working for it.
The champagne arrives, and Jim mockingly proposes a toast to Francisco, which Cherryl refuses. Jim comes unglued and leaves the room.
At her apartment, Dagny yearns to be back in Galt’s Gulch and hopes to spot John on the street in New York. The doorbell rings and in comes Cherryl. She is there to pay a debt; she apologizes for everything she had said at the wedding. She admits that she now knows the truth about who really runs the railroad. She knows that her husband is a worthless moocher; the girls now have a bond. Dagny admits that when people say she is hard and unfeeling, it is true – because she is being just. Dagny has held herself above the terrible world Jim inhabits by one rule: To place nothing above the verdict of her own mind. This connects with something Cherryl had felt in her poor youth in Buffalo, something people around her had wanted to destroy. A premonition tells Dagny to suggest that Cherryl stay with her tonight, but Cherryl decides to go home. She looks broken.
Moments after Cherryl has left Jim, Lillian Rearden shows up. Lillian is unhappy about the quality of the new class of looters, who are not “our crowd”. Lillian is there for a favor: she needs Jim to use his influence to stop the divorce. Hank has purchased everyone necessary to get his divorce and keep Lillian away from his money. All of this happened because Lillian had done critical favors for Jim. He kids her about how she always said she didn’t care about money, but she says she cares about poverty. Bertram Scudder can no longer help, but if Jim could get Wesley Mouch to intervene... Jim explains that the channels of pull have become so convoluted that it is impossible to get favors from the right people anymore.
Jim and Lillian drink champagne. Lillian says that Hank thinks little of Jim, and Jim wants just once to beat him. And in a sense he does in the next few minutes, as he beds Lillian Rearden. She is even less fun than Betty Pope.
Cherryl comes home in time to catch them after the act. She confronts Jim who becomes enraged and then brags about it. She asks why he married her; Jim tells her she was a cheap little guttersnipe from Buffalo who had no choice but to love him as he was – because she was worthless. He wants her to accept his love as alms because she could never hope to earn it. The oncoming headlight finally hits Cherryl, shattering her. She sees through Jim, telling him he is a killer for the sake of killing; he slaps her for her effrontery.
Cherryl runs out of her apartment on a wild but aimless run through the streets of Manhattan. A social worker approaches her and asks if she is in trouble, then grabs her and reprimands her for being a drunken society girl. Tearing herself away, Cherryl screams and runs headlong into the East River.
Discussion Topics
Finished it years ago, but this is fun!
In his autobiography, Eddie Rickenbacker relates an incident that happened to he and his wife in post WW1 Germany.
Mr. Rickenbacker and his wife were staying in a hotel in Germany. Rickenbacker tipped, if I remember correctly, the hotel maid and bellhop. Both maid and bellhop, according to Rickenbacker, treated the tips with something approaching disdain. But, Rickenbacker was chastised by his wife for being so overly generous.
Later, Rickenbacker did some checking and figuring, and realized he’d hardly given the two anything in the way of a tip, due to post war inflation and that he’d incorrectly figured the rate of exchange. So, Mr. Rickenbacker went back and tipped appropriately.
My thoughts on this Mr. Rickenbacker and the tipping incident have always been twofold: 1. He went back and did the right thing. But: 2. The pair should have accepted the original tip gracefully and not acted in such a snide manner.
I’ve often thought of the above when Ayn has the bum receive charity. Jim gives the money because he can, and the bum accepts the money, without even thanks, because he expects it.
It’s quite obvious society in AS has reached the point where those that have expect to support those who don’t. That bums like those pictured in this chapter have reached the point where living off of other people is a normal part of life.
Sorry I’m late to this again. Another trip out of town, this time to see the future in-laws.
Odd. Tips in Germany are included in the bill.
(Though I tip anyway - can’t bring myself not to).
My grandmother’s third husband was a genuinely good man and did a great job taking care of and providing for my grandmother.
When he got sick just before he died, and this was after 27 years of marriage, his adult children couldn’t be bothered to come and look after him. So, my mom, even though he was not a blood relative, took it upon herself to look after he and her mom.
But, those same “adults” sure found time to show up and contest the will, claiming that Jim had a lot of money, they deserved it, etc.
This was post WW1 Germany, Weimar Republic.
Your wife must ride the train with some very stupid people. They probably even think Obama is a good choice for President (or at least think that McCain would have been).
Dunno what the rules were then - I am old, but I ain’t that dang old.
;)
If it’s built into the bill, it’s not a tip. It ceases to be a gift, for one thing, plus the amount will not vary with the quality of the service. Sounds like a bad deal for hard working wait staff and for the customer and a boon for the slackers.
Yes - but them are the rules.
Somebody here on FR said that she had been a ‘great’ fan of Farrah Fawcett and had wanted her for the role of Dagny Taggart.
And that is precisely why the scorn of European waitstaff in general and French waitstaff in particular astounds me.
Try Bavaria - waitstaff is friendly, willing to help, and very welcoming.
Just make sure you clean your plate. Wasting food will get you yelled at. Hold over from the lean times, I think.
Check your premises. I think it all fits together perfectly. If the “tip” is built into the bill, meaning everyone gets the same, and an individual gets the same regardless of their quality of service, they can be as scornful as they want. What are you going to do about it?
I derive the satisfaction of knowing that I rubbed their faces in their socialism. But also here in the states, waitstaff share their tips not just amongst themselves but among busboys and others, too.
My problem with them is this. I’ve been in Italy and heard Americans order Coca Cola with their meals. And I’ve heard the scorn heaped on them by Italians at the next table for not ordering wine without ever considering that perhaps the person is an alcoholic. I despise the fascism that makes them think they know what’s best for everyone or that everyone should follow the food rules. It has to be beer with pizza. A capuccino should never be had past 10 a.m. Who the dickens made up these rules? I don’t drink coffee because the taste never delivers what the smell promises. That is especially true of that mud in a cup popularly known as espresso. But I also don’t generally eat dessert, so if I want coffee, diluted with milk, sweetened with sugar and topped with foam, let me have it. And don’t let me hear you say, “Ma che scemenza degli americani. Non sanno proprio a mangiare altro che dei amburgher e burro di arrachidi.”
Returning to my premises, when they take that job (and in those socialist economies, it’s actually a career) they know that they’re going to have the tip shared regardless of the quality of service. I don’t care to attempt to change their system at a table.
Publius, if you’re following this thread, my most sincere apologies for allowing it to have devolved.
I derive the satisfaction of knowing that I rubbed their faces in their socialism. But also here in the states, waitstaff share their tips not just amongst themselves but among busboys and others, too.
My problem with them is this. I’ve been in Italy and heard Americans order Coca Cola with their meals. And I’ve heard the scorn heaped on them by Italians at the next table for not ordering wine without ever considering that perhaps the person is an alcoholic. I despise the fascism that makes them think they know what’s best for everyone or that everyone should follow the food rules. It has to be beer with pizza. A capuccino should never be had past 10 a.m. Who the dickens made up these rules? I don’t drink coffee because the taste never delivers what the smell promises. That is especially true of that mud in a cup popularly known as espresso. But I also don’t generally eat dessert, so if I want coffee, diluted with milk, sweetened with sugar and topped with foam, let me have it. And don’t let me hear you say, “Ma che scemenza degli americani. Non sanno proprio a mangiare altro che dei amburgher e burro di arrachidi.”
Returning to my premises, when they take that job (and in those socialist economies, it’s actually a career) they know that they’re going to have the tip shared regardless of the quality of service. I don’t care to attempt to change their system at a table.
Publius, if you’re following this thread, my most sincere apologies for allowing it to have devolved.
Your observation is correct. There are many self-described Democrats and zero supporters who ride the light rail in Denver. We have 0 supporters who actually believe The One is doing a great job, while they continue to believe everything is Bush’s fault. Colorado may be moving back to the right but Denver remains a hotbed of liberal utopian belief.
Frankly, Denver Democrats have brainwashed themselves and believe in fantasies.
This screams "Katrina" to me. People reacted to the $2000 debit cards the same way.
On the one hand, it's your money and you can do anything you want to with it, so from that point of view it's covered. Extra money for extra service I should think perfectly permissible, value for value received, as long as it really is considered extra - that's the gratuitous part of "gratuity," after all.
But in the real world of present-day America it isn't usually gratuitous at all. Wait staff are paid less well than they otherwise might be because of that. "Wages, tips, and other compensation" is what goes on the old 1040. I think in an idealized Randian world wait staff are properly compensated for their jobs per se and tips really are gratuitous. In that sense the current system is corrupt, at least from Rand's point of view. Value for value received, no cheating, and where a gratuity is no longer gratuitous and the wait staff suffer otherwise, it's cheating.
Not much evidence to back that speculation up, however. It isn't apparent that Dagny tipped Akston at his diner for the best "hamburger sandwich" she'd ever eaten. In chapter 10: She rose, paid her bill, and said, "Thank you, Dr. Akston." In fact, she even accepted one of those magic cigarettes with the dollar sign on it from him.
Dang skinflint, drug-addicted capitalist... ;-)
I must admit that I rushed through the book after getting about one third into it. But I still follow the threads and appreciate them very much!
Very good. You nailed it in that post.
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