ANTHEM(圣歌)

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ANTHEM

by Ayn Rand

ANTHEM

PART ONE

It is a sin to write this. It is a sin to think words no others think and

to put them down upon a paper no others are to see. It is base and evil. It

is as if we were speaking alone to no ears but our own. And we know well

that there is no transgression blacker than to do or think alone. We have

broken the laws. The laws say that men may not write unless the Council

of Vocations bid them so. May we be forgiven!

But this is not the only sin upon us. We have committed a greater

crime, and for this crime there is no name. What punishment awaits us if

it be discovered we know not, for no such crime has come in the memory

of men and there are no laws to provide for it.

It is dark here. The flame of the candle stands still in the air.

Nothing moves in this tunnel save our hand on the paper. We are alone

here under the earth. It is a fearful word, alone. The laws say that none

among men may be alone, ever and at any time, for this is the great

transgression and the root of all evil. But we have broken many laws.

And now there is nothing here save our one body, and it is strange to see

only two legs stretched on the ground, and on the wall before us the

shadow of our one head.

The walls are cracked and water runs upon them in thin threads

without sound, black and glistening as blood. We stole the candle from

the larder of the Home of the Street Sweepers. We shall be sentenced to

ten years in the Palace of Corrective Detention if it be discovered. But

this matters not. It matters only that the light is precious and we should not

waste it to write when we need it for that work which is our crime.

Nothing matters save the work, our secret, our evil, our precious work.

Still, we must also write, for--may the Council have mercy upon us!--we

wish to speak for once to no ears but our own.

Our name is Equality 7-2521, as it is written on the iron bracelet which

all men wear on their left wrists with their names upon it. We are

twenty-one years old. We are six feet tall, and this is a burden, for there

are not many men who are six feet tall. Ever have the Teachers and the

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Leaders pointed to us and frowned and said:

"There is evil in your bones, Equality 7-2521, for your body has grown

beyond the bodies of your brothers." But we cannot change our bones

nor our body.

We were born with a curse. It has always driven us to thoughts

which are forbidden. It has always given us wishes which men may not

wish. We know that we are evil, but there is no will in us and no power

to resist it. This is our wonder and our secret fear, that we know and do

not resist.

We strive to be like all our brother men, for all men must be alike.

Over the portals of the Palace of the World Council, there are words cut in

the marble, which we repeat to ourselves whenever we are tempted:

"WE ARE ONE IN ALL AND ALL IN ONE. THERE ARE NO

MEN BUT ONLY THE GREAT _WE_, ONE, INDIVISIBLE AND

FOREVER."

We repeat this to ourselves, but it helps us not.

These words were cut long ago. There is green mould in the grooves

of the letters and yellow streaks on the marble, which come from more

years than men could count. And these words are the truth, for they are

written on the Palace of the World Council, and the World Council is the

body of all truth. Thus has it been ever since the Great Rebirth, and

farther back than that no memory can reach.

But we must never speak of the times before the Great Rebirth, else

we are sentenced to three years in the Palace of Corrective Detention. It is

only the Old Ones who whisper about it in the evenings, in the Home of

the Useless. They whisper many strange things, of the towers which rose

to the sky, in those Unmentionable Times, and of the wagons which

moved without horses, and of the lights which burned without flame.

But those times were evil. And those times passed away, when men saw

the Great Truth which is this: that all men are one and that there is no will

save the will of all men together.

All men are good and wise. It is only we, Equality 7-2521, we alone

who were born with a curse. For we are not like our brothers. And as we

look back upon our life, we see that it has ever been thus and that it has

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brought us step by step to our last, supreme transgression, our crime of

crimes hidden here under the ground.

We remember the Home of the Infants where we lived till we were

five years old, together with all the children of the City who had been born

in the same year. The sleeping halls there were white and clean and bare of

all things save one hundred beds. We were just like all our brothers then,

save for the one transgression: we fought with our brothers. There are

few offenses blacker than to fight with our brothers, at any age and for any

cause whatsoever. The Council of the Home told us so, and of all the

children of that year, we were locked in the cellar most often.

When we were five years old, we were sent to the Home of the

Students, where there are ten wards, for our ten years of learning. Men

must learn till they reach their fifteenth year. Then they go to work. In

the Home of the Students we arose when the big bell rang in the tower and

we went to our beds when it rang again. Before we removed our

garments, we stood in the great sleeping hall, and we raised our right arms,

and we said all together with the three Teachers at the head:

"We are nothing. Mankind is all. By the grace of our brothers are

we allowed our lives. We exist through, by and for our brothers who are

the State. Amen."

Then we slept. The sleeping halls were white and clean and bare of

all things save one hundred beds.

We, Equality 7-2521, were not happy in those years in the Home of the

Students. It was not that the learning was too hard for us. It was that the

learning was too easy. This is a great sin, to be born with a head which is

too quick. It is not good to be different from our brothers, but it is evil to

be superior to them. The Teachers told us so, and they frowned when

they looked upon us.

So we fought against this curse. We tried to forget our lessons, but

we always remembered. We tried not to understand what the Teachers

taught, but we always understood it before the Teachers had spoken. We

looked upon Union 5-3992, who were a pale boy with only half a brain,

and we tried to say and do as they did, that we might be like them, like

Union 5-3992, but somehow the Teachers knew that we were not. And we

ANTHEM

were lashed more often than all the other children.

The Teachers were just, for they had been appointed by the Councils,

and the Councils are the voice of all justice, for they are the voice of all

men. And if sometimes, in the secret darkness of our heart, we regret

that which befell us on our fifteenth birthday, we know that it was through

our own guilt. We had broken a law, for we had not paid heed to the

words of our Teachers. The Teachers had said to us all:

"Dare not choose in your minds the work you would like to do when

you leave the Home of the Students. You shall do that which the Council

of Vocations shall prescribe for you. For the Council of Vocations knows

in its great wisdom where you are needed by your brother men, better than

you can know it in your unworthy little minds. And if you are not needed

by your brother man, there is no reason for you to burden the earth with

your bodies."

We knew this well, in the years of our childhood, but our curse broke

our will. We were guilty and we confess it here: we were guilty of the

great Transgression of Preference. We preferred some work and some

lessons to the others. We did not listen well to the history of all the

Councils elected since the Great Rebirth. But we loved the Science of

Things. We wished to know. We wished to know about all the things

which make the earth around us. We asked so many questions that the

Teachers forbade it.

We think that there are mysteries in the sky and under the water and in

the plants which grow. But the Council of Scholars has said that there

are no mysteries, and the Council of Scholars knows all things. And we

learned much from our Teachers. We learned that the earth is flat and that

the sun revolves around it, which causes the day and the night. We

learned the names of all the winds which blow over the seas and push the

sails of our great ships. We learned how to bleed men to cure them of all

ailments.

We loved the Science of Things. And in the darkness, in the secret

hour, when we awoke in the night and there were no brothers around us,

but only their shapes in the beds and their snores, we closed our eyes, and

we held our lips shut, and we stopped our breath, that no shudder might let

ANTHEM

our brothers see or hear or guess, and we thought that we wished to be sent

to the Home of the Scholars when our time would come.

All the great modern inventions come from the Home of the Scholars,

such as the newest one, which was found only a hundred years ago, of

how to make candles from wax and string; also, how to make glass, which

is put in our windows to protect us from the rain. To find these things,

the Scholars must study the earth and learn from the rivers, from the sands,

from the winds and the rocks. And if we went to the Home of the

Scholars, we could learn from these also. We could ask questions of

these, for they do not forbid questions.

And questions give us no rest. We know not why our curse makes us

seek we know not what, ever and ever. But we cannot resist it. It

whispers to us that there are great things on this earth of ours, and that we

can know them if we try, and that we must know them. We ask, why

must we know, but it has no answer to give us. We must know that we may

know.

So we wished to be sent to the Home of the Scholars. We wished it

so much that our hands trembled under the blankets in the night, and we

bit our arm to stop that other pain which we could not endure. It was evil

and we dared not face our brothers in the morning. For men may wish

nothing for themselves. And we were punished when the Council of

Vocations came to give us our life Mandates which tell those who reach

their fifteenth year what their work is to be for the rest of their days.

The Council of Vocations came on the first day of spring, and they sat

in the great hall. And we who were fifteen and all the Teachers came into

the great hall. And the Council of Vocations sat on a high dais, and they

had but two words to speak to each of the Students. They called the

Students' names, and when the Students stepped before them, one after

another, the Council said: "Carpenter" or "Doctor" or "Cook" or "Leader."

Then each Student raised their right arm and said: "The will of our

brothers be done."

Now if the Council has said "Carpenter" or "Cook," the Students so

assigned go to work and they do not study any further. But if the Council

has said "Leader," then those Students go into the Home of the Leaders,

ANTHEM

which is the greatest house in the City, for it has three stories. And there

they study for many years, so that they may become candidates and be

elected to the City Council and the State Council and the World Council--

by a free and general vote of all men. But we wished not to be a

Leader, even though it is a great honor. We wished to be a Scholar.

So we awaited our turn in the great hall and then we heard the Council

of Vocations call our name: "Equality 7-2521." We walked to the dais,

and our legs did not tremble, and we looked up at the Council. There

were five members of the Council, three of the male gender and two of the

female. Their hair was white and their faces were cracked as the clay of a

dry river bed. They were old. They seemed older than the marble of the

Temple of the World Council. They sat before us and they did not move.

And we saw no breath to stir the folds of their white togas. But we knew

that they were alive, for a finger of the hand of the oldest rose, pointed to

us, and fell down again. This was the only thing which moved, for the lips

of the oldest did not move as they said: "Street Sweeper."

We felt the cords of our neck grow tight as our head rose higher to

look upon the faces of the Council, and we were happy. We knew we had

been guilty, but now we had a way to atone for it. We would accept our

Life Mandate, and we would work for our brothers, gladly and willingly,

and we would erase our sin against them, which they did not know, but we

knew. So we were happy, and proud of ourselves and of our victory over

ourselves. We raised our right arm and we spoke, and our voice was the

clearest, the steadiest voice in the hall that day, and we said:

"The will of our brothers be done."

And we looked straight into the eyes of the Council, but their eyes

were as cold blue glass buttons.

So we went into the Home of the Street Sweepers. It is a grey house on

a narrow street. There is a sundial in its courtyard, by which the Council of

the Home can tell the hours of the day and when to ring the bell. When

the bell rings, we all arise from our beds. The sky is green and cold in

our windows to the east. The shadow on the sundial marks off a half-

hour while we dress and eat our breakfast in the dining hall, where there

are five long tables with twenty clay plates and twenty clay cups on each

ANTHEM

table. Then we go to work in the streets of the City, with our brooms and

our rakes. In five hours, when the sun is high, we return to the Home and

we eat our midday meal, for which one-half hour is allowed. Then we go

to work again. In five hours, the shadows are blue on the pavements, and

the sky is blue with a deep brightness which is not bright. We come back

to have our dinner, which lasts one hour. Then the bell rings and we

walk in a straight column to one of the City Halls, for the Social Meeting.

Other columns of men arrive from the Homes of the different Trades.

The candles are lit, and the Councils of the different Homes stand in a

pulpit, and they speak to us of our duties and of our brother men. Then

visiting Leaders mount the pulpit and they read to us the speeches which

were made in the City Council that day, for the City Council represents all

men and all men must know. Then we sing hymns, the Hymn of

Brotherhood, and the Hymn of Equality, and the Hymn of the Collective

Spirit. The sky is a soggy purple when we return to the Home. Then the

bell rings and we walk in a straight column to the City Theatre for three

hours of Social Recreation. There a play is shown upon the stage, with two

great choruses from the Home of the Actors, which speak and answer all

together, in two great voices. The plays are about toil and how good it is.

Then we walk back to the Home in a straight column. The sky is like a

black sieve pierced by silver drops that tremble, ready to burst through.

The moths beat against the street lanterns. We go to our beds and we

sleep, till the bell rings again. The sleeping halls are white and clean and

bare of all things save one hundred beds.

Thus have we lived each day of four years, until two springs ago when

our crime happened. Thus must all men live until they are forty. At

forty, they are worn out. At forty, they are sent to the Home of the

Useless, where the Old Ones live. The Old Ones do not work, for the

State takes care of them. They sit in the sun in summer and they sit by

the fire in winter. They do not speak often, for they are weary. The Old

Ones know that they are soon to die. When a miracle happens and some

live to be forty-five, they are the Ancient Ones, and the children stare at

them when passing by the Home of the Useless. Such is to be our life, as

that of all our brothers and of the brothers who came before us.

ANTHEM

Such would have been our life, had we not committed our crime which

changed all things for us. And it was our curse which drove us to our

crime. We had been a good Street Sweeper and like all our brother Street

Sweepers, save for our cursed wish to know. We looked too long at the

stars at night, and at the trees and the earth. And when we cleaned the

yard of the Home of the Scholars, we gathered the glass vials, the pieces

of metal, the dried bones which they had discarded. We wished to keep

these things and to study them, but we had no place to hide them. So we

carried them to the City Cesspool. And then we made the discovery.

It was on a day of the spring before last. We Street Sweepers work in

brigades of three, and we were with Union 5-3992, they of the half-brain,

and with International 4-8818. Now Union 5-3992 are a sickly lad and

sometimes they are stricken with convulsions, when their mouth froths

and their eyes turn white. But International 4-8818 are different. They

are a tall, strong youth and their eyes are like fireflies, for there is laughter

in their eyes. We cannot look upon International 4-8818 and not smile in

answer. For this they were not liked in the Home of the Students, as it is

not proper to smile without reason. And also they were not liked because

they took pieces of coal and they drew pictures upon the walls, and they

were pictures which made men laugh. But it is only our brothers in the

Home of the Artists who are permitted to draw pictures, so International 4-

8818 were sent to the Home of the Street Sweepers, like ourselves.

International 4-8818 and we are friends. This is an evil thing to say, for

it is a transgression, the great Transgression of Preference, to love any

among men better than the others, since we must love all men and all men

are our friends. So International 4-8818 and we have never spoken of it.

But we know. We know, when we look into each other's eyes. And

when we look thus without words, we both know other things also, strange

things for which there are no words, and these things frighten us.

So on that day of the spring before last, Union 5-3992 were stricken

with convulsions on the edge of the City, near the City Theatre. We left

them to lie in the shade of the Theatre tent and we went with International

4-8818 to finish our work. We came together to the great ravine behind the

Theatre. It is empty save for trees and weeds. Beyond the ravine there is

ANTHEM

a plain, and beyond the plain there lies the Uncharted Forest, about which

men must not think.

We were gathering the papers and the rags which the wind had blown

from the Theatre, when we saw an iron bar among the weeds. It was old

and rusted by many rains. We pulled with all our strength, but we could

not move it. So we called International 4-8818, and together we scraped

the earth around the bar. Of a sudden the earth fell in before us, and we

saw an old iron grill over a black hole.

International 4-8818 stepped back. But we pulled at the grill and it

gave way. And then we saw iron rings as steps leading down a shaft into a

darkness without bottom.

"We shall go down," we said to International 4-8818.

"It is forbidden," they answered.

We said: "The Council does not know of this hole, so it cannot be

forbidden."

And they answered: "Since the Council does not know of this hole,

there can be no law permitting to enter it. And everything which is not

permitted by law is forbidden."

But we said: "We shall go, none the less."

They were frightened, but they stood by and watched us go.

We hung on the iron rings with our hands and our feet. We could see

nothing below us. And above us the hole open upon the sky grew

smaller and smaller, till it came to be the size of a button. But still we

went down. Then our foot touched the ground. We rubbed our eyes, for

we could not see. Then our eyes became used to the darkness, but we

could not believe what we saw.

No men known to us could have built this place, nor the men known to

our brothers who lived before us, and yet it was built by men. It was a

great tunnel. Its walls were hard and smooth to the touch; it felt like stone,

but it was not stone. On the ground there were long thin tracks of iron, but

it was not iron; it felt smooth and cold as glass. We knelt, and we

crawled forward, our hand groping along the iron line to see where it

would lead. But there was an unbroken night ahead. Only the iron

tracks glowed through it, straight and white, calling us to follow. But we

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ANTHEM1ANTHEMbyAynRandANTHEM2PARTONEItisasintowritethis.Itisasintothinkwordsnoothersthinkandtoputthemdownuponapapernoothersaretosee.Itisbaseandevil.Itisasifwewerespeakingalonetonoearsbutourown.Andweknowwellthatthereisnotransgressionblackerthantodoorthinkalone.Wehavebrokenthelaws.Thelawssaythatmenmay...

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