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2003 Anthem Contest

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First Place

Charlotte Seid, Thomas Jefferson School for Science and Technology, Clifton, VA

Politically, Anthem depicts a collectivist society. What ideas do the rulers appeal to in order to justify their collectivist society? How do its rulers retain their power? What enables Prometheus to escape his society and envision an alternative?

Like his immortal namesake of legend, Prometheus lived in a world of intellectual and cultural darkness. Alone, he created with his hands the light of electricity, and with his mind, he conceived the glory of the individual—both profound powers that had been lost over the centuries. For his genius and independence, Prometheus was persecuted by the authorities of his society—authorities who represented the sovereignty of men, the collective, and the demise of man, the individual.

The supreme Councils of Prometheus’ race obliterated “I,” the Unspeakable Word, and compelled every man to deify the great “We,” yet there was powerful hatred and fear behind the censorship and idolization of words. Appealing to society’s eternal hope for peace, the authorities ensured harmony if men remained “One, indivisible and forever.” The spiritless number—names assigned to each person echoed the ideals of collectivism: Similarity, Unanimity, and Fraternity, while some—Equality, Liberty, and Democracy—stood as distorted shadows of their true significance.

To preserve security and harmony, the Council of the Home deigned that there were “few offenses blacker than to fight with our brothers,” but was the Council truly concerned about preventing bloodshed? It was the difference in opinion, not the scars, that the rulers hoped to suppress; similarly, when men did not know “if their thoughts were the thoughts of all,” none dared to voice their opinions out of fear. Furthermore, the Home Council promoted altruism and an illusion of happiness in laboring selflessly for others; as one member questioned, “How else can men be when they live for their brothers?” This arbitrary “happiness” belied the sobs of Fraternity 2-5503 and the cries of Solidarity 9-6347, who, with Prometheus, felt an unspoken fear that permeated their ambiance of tranquility.

Despite the evil that the leaders advocated, they rarely employed physical force—not even bolts on the prisons—for “We” already had an unyielding grasp on the minds and spirits of the weak. The authorities replaced freedom with conformity, decreeing that all men must be alike in all ways, to the detriment of the strong. They divested citizens of names, families, private homes, and any sense of identity; men were forbidden to know even the images of themselves and were to assume that everyone mirrored the lethargy and submissiveness of the majority. Collectivist rulers abolished this nation’s renowned justice system, in which every defendant is innocent until proven guilty—instead, all actions “not permitted by law [were] forbidden.”

Ignorance was perhaps the collectivists’ most potent weapon. During the Great Rebirth, the authorities mandated the burning of manuscripts and all symbols of the Evil Ones; with the burning of books came a literal Holocaust and the end of a culture. The new society was born into oblivion, with its science neglected and comparable to the Dark Ages of a flat earth, geocentric universe, and medicinal cures by bleeding. Although the World Councils established Scholars, technology was explicitly not intended to be a tool for man. Indeed, Prometheus’ light was considered a “great evil,” for it spared civilization from unnecessary toil.

At the Home of the Students, Teachers claimed to educate the children of the City, in order to prepare them for their vocations, yet the new generation could not truly learn or think as they wished. In that converse society, the most intelligent students were coerced into forgetting their lessons and acting with “half a brain” to conform. It was “evil to be superior” to one’s agemates and to be born “with a head which is too quick.” Thus, behind a façade of education, the Teachers prevented mankind from rightly growing, evolving, and improving.

Every component of life, as dictated by the Council of the Home, necessitated complete submission, beginning with the communal living quarters, in which men knew neither privacy nor ownership. The rulers used the innocent daily routine, benign entertainment, and Hymns of Brotherhood, Equality, and the Collective Spirit to imbue collectivism in the citizens. Self-expression was prohibited even in aesthetics, for only appointed Artists could create drawings, and the art of drama was reduced to a pair of monotonous choruses, inculcating in every person the value of compulsory labor.

There were others in the City, besides Prometheus, who actively or subconsciously resisted the collectivism that was their lives—Fraternity 2-5503, Solidarity 9-6347, and International 4-8818—yet only he and Gaea had the independence, courage, and full consciousness to transform their forbidden thoughts and creeds into action and history.

In Prometheus lay the latent seeds of exploration and discovery, which were evident as he unearthed and ventured into the ancient railroad tunnel, eventually claiming it as his own haven and laboratory. Already, he possessed remarkable conviction to have doubted the warnings of his companion and to have defied the laws of the Council. In the next two years of solitary work, Prometheus proved that there is no bliss in ignorance as he conducted experiments, discovered primitive knowledge, and came to understand himself more profoundly. With every discovery, his sight became “sharper than the hawk’s and clearer than rock crystal,” his spirit “clear as a lake troubled by no eyes save those of the sun,” and his heart cognizant of “the first peace [he had] known in twenty years.”

At the climax of his work, Prometheus discovered electricity, the metaphorical fire given from gods to men. His new power defied all laws, as he did, for he disregarded the councils and their restrictions-“all things save [his] metals and [his] wires.” Indeed, Prometheus shared many virtues with his creation—both man and technology initiated revolutions and, without the fuel of others, radiated a cleaner, purer light to the world.

Prometheus, unlike any other men of his time, knew the unconditional pride of creation, asking himself, “Are we proud of this thread of metal, or of our hands which made it, or is there a line to divide these two?” He contested his rank as a Street Sweeper and challenged the practices of the Scholars, who ruled that ideas that are not accepted by one’s brothers must be discarded. In the same way, untold theories and inventions throughout history would have been aborted by a majority vote of the populace. Finally, under the lashes of Corrective Detention, he revealed superior willpower and strength of spirit. He suffered, “as all bearers of light must suffer” in order to defend and preserve his creation.

At last, Prometheus experienced a “strange new pride” in his survival in the Uncharted Forest. With Gaea, he discovered the “great evil of being alone,” and, for the first time, fully began to doubt the wisdom of the past. His independent, invincible spirit was the “guiding star and the loadstone” that pointed inside to a new dominion and new triumphs for man.

Prometheus, as a creator, a pioneer, a revolutionary—an individual—shattered the chains of collectivism, recovered the life force of a lost era, and discovered within himself the glory and eternity of solitude.

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