Customer Reviews

It Usually Begins With Ayn Rand

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If you care about the history of the libertarian movement - and already know the names Ayn Rand, Nathaniel Branden, Murray Rothbard, and Karl Hess - then you're apt to find Tuccille's book an absolutely hilarious romp, as I did.

Unless, of course, you're an Objectivist fundamentalist of the sort who wears $-sign cufflinks, drinking Kool-Aid at the Fountainhead in Galt's Gulch while chanting the mantra "A is A." In that case, you just might fail to see the humor as Tuccille skewers your sacred cows.

If none of the foregoing means much to you, then chances are good that Tuccille's book won't either. Tuccille spins a fantastically funny yarn for those who already are intimately familiar with American libertarianism. Those who are not, I'm sorry to say, probably will find little of interest in the book.

Eric Alan Isaacson

Jerome Tuccille documents his journey from Ayn Rand to Goldwater to Rothbard -- and back, beyond, and in between. This is a hilarious book if one knows the names and ideas being discussed; a newcomer may want to familiarize himself with names like Murray Rothbard, Karl Hess, Nathaniel & Barbara Branden, Leonard Liggio, Henry Paolucci, and the like before reading this book. Tuccille combines fiction and fact -- with much exaggeration -- to document the young libertarian movement from the mid-fifties to 1971. If the sequel is ever finished, I hope it can match this great book!

When I was a young man, I devoured all of Ayn Rand's works, and they helped shape the libertarian perspective I have today. When I got my hands on Tuccille's book in hardback years ago, I read it through in one sitting, lauging all the way. I was surprised and delighted to see the book back in print again; it was like running into an old friend one hasn't seen in a long time.

This is a freewheeling wacky spiel about one man's place in an unwieldy political movement, where each and every person is an island unto his or herself. On the left, there are student anarchists, on the right, a cadre of rock ribbed objectivists, and amid all this crazy ideological cross talk, Jerome Tuccille just wants to settle down and create a home for his people -- the sane, middle-of-the-road anarchist. Over the course of his wanderings, he butts heads with and attempt to extract himself from run-ins with the fathers and mothers of modern Libertarianism.

One particular scene, where a bow-tied Murray Rothbard walks into a ballroom full of startled anti-statist flanked by beaded and bearded hippies, NEEDS to brought to the big scene.

A funny, secretly serious book.

In my opinion Tuccille tags along behind Rand, mimicking her, but appears to have no original ideas of his own. Sorry is this seems harsh, but I cannot say the book is anything but a collection of ramblings by an average, run-of-the-mill Ayn Rand fan. Let's put it this way; if Ayn Rand was Baron Frankenstein, then Jerome Tuccille would be his faithful servant, Egor. The problem is that Egor is no Doctor Frankenstein, and Jerome is no Rand.