Is there such a thing as "Objectivist fiction"?
We might be inclined to wonder. After all, we cannot readily bring to mind a class of "Aristotelean fiction" or "Kantian fiction." Yet such genres as "Existentialist fiction" are widely recognized. With a little thought we might identify, say, much detective fiction (one thinks for instance of the books of Dick Francis) as Aristotelean. And certainly it was the position of Ayn Rand that fiction not only can, but inevitably must, express the philosophical premises of its author.
Even so, we ought not to expect "Objectivist fiction" to invariably deal in an explicit manner with philosophical themes, in the way that Atlas Shrugged does. And if Ayn Rand's short story "Good Copy" is to be considered "Objectivist fiction," we must concede that the term has a loose definition indeed. It is true that Rand and certain writers who are openly Objectivist--Kay Nolte Smith, Edward Cline, Erika Holzer--form a quite recognizable school of fiction. But what they have in common is not just philosophical content but an intensely Romantic style. If "Objectivist fiction" were to be defined by this school, then my fiction, including "Sparring Partner," would hardly qualify. It was thus with some hesitation that I responded to the request to provide material for this Web site.
What, then, would I define as "Objectivist fiction"? Obviously a story, to qualify, would have to project an acceptance of the basic premises of Objectivism: objective reality (no mystical "anything might happen" fantasies); volition (a story like Sartre's "The Wall", which asserts the total futility of human choice, is about as "anti-Objectivist" as one can get); and so on. But I would insist on something more.
In keeping with Rand's admonition to "check your premises," we surely ought to expect "Objectivist fiction" to examine and challenge the most basic roots of our thinking. From our historical vantage point, we often fail to appreciate how radical Rand's own fiction was in this regard. Every one of her novels broke new philosophical ground and required an expansion, and even rework, of Rand's own premises. Again, Rand, like Aristotle, considered fiction of crucial importance for its capability of examining how things "ought to be." And above all, perhaps, an Objectivist style of fiction ought to reflect Rand's obsession with personal achievement, with making the most of what the self is capable of.
Of one thing I am sure, then: "Objectivist fiction" should not be complacent or self-satisfied. It should not be a comforting restatement of ideas we have already accepted. On the contrary, like Rand's own work, it should stretch the mind of the writer--and of the reader. It should raise difficulties, force us to confront crucial problems, and make us earn the satisfaction of solving them.
After all this lengthy preamble, I have only a few words to say specifically about "Sparring Partner." That's as well, for, like any story, it ought to be able to speak for itself. But to justify, not the story, but its inclusion at an Objectivist Web site, let me point out that the premise it invites the reader to check is the Randian belief in the "benevolent universe." Objectivism claims a "biocentric" focus; yet biology teaches us that nature is not benevolent to man. Evolution is a competitive game, with losers as well as winners, and the stakes are very high indeed. Have we truly thought out the implications and consequences? I thought the question was worth asking; hence this story.