Atlas got off to a bad start with me.
It spouts off some Junk about how all stories are the same; they express some
human commonality blah blah. I was offended both as a person who enjoys stories
and one who writes them. Obviously the reverse is true, right? Does it not
slight every story, including this one, to think they’re all different dressing
on the same idea? Credit to Atlas for
slowly winning me over.
At
first it seemed like there were a dozen narratives and none of them have
anything to do with each other. Then the irresistible thrill and challenge of
solving a puzzle took over. When next I reassessed my general like / dislike I
found myself engrossed in each little story. The offensive opening acted as the
key, and I had to, grudgingly, agree with the claim.
I can
see the potential turn off, though. For being all about the human condition, none
of the stories feel real. They all take place on Earth, sure, but have a
weightlessness to them. The only thing that matters is the Moral. Like a
folktale or myth, everything feeds into the final lesson with such a hyper
focus that there is nothing else but a condensed nugget of “truth”. And going
through multiple climaxes was somewhat grating. Relieved somewhat by nobody
being “safe”. The characters are instruments of the end message. So long as
that’s served it doesn’t matter what happens to them.
The
revealed Mysteries of the Universe aren’t going to astound. This is more
touching celebration than breaking news. The connection between disparate
narratives invites personal branching of the core idea. How important are
stories to actual human loves? Deeply. And examining how personal favorites fit
into this much larger Work is the loving send-off to this beautiful piece.
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