[9/10]

My mind is blank. The Fountainhead is a saga. It had been a part of my day for six months, until today. All these days, I had so badly wanted it to be over, but today, now that it's over, I don't know why I should feel a great sense of loss. It is such a ginormous vacuum which is going to take a while to be filled with an equally good, if not better, mind-numbing piece of literature.

I had always wondered, while writing reviews, who the review should be addressed to- one who has

[9/10]

My mind is blank. The Fountainhead is a saga. It had been a part of my day for six months, until today. All these days, I had so badly wanted it to be over, but today, now that it's over, I don't know why I should feel a great sense of loss. It is such a ginormous vacuum which is going to take a while to be filled with an equally good, if not better, mind-numbing piece of literature.

I had always wondered, while writing reviews, who the review should be addressed to- one who has already read the book or the one who hasn't. Since my brain is not conscientious enough to cater to a particular demographic, I always throw in a lot of spoilers. That's why I have come up with an ingenious(lol) plan to divide my review into two sections here after, where I shall jot down my thoughts and views appropriately and accordingly.

For Neophytes:

Brace yourselves for the Ayn Rand downpour. You will be thoroughly drenched. You will be carried away gently like a paper boat. You will be shoved against a rock, when you are least expecting it. All through the book you will have this wonderful feeling of getting a handle on the not-so-obvious. You will be proud of yourself for deciphering the literature that was intended to talk to you in codes. For a fleeting moment, you will be impressed that you can be such a dilettante who can actually probe into the mind of an eminent writer like Rand. And then everything that made sense starts to fade into obscurity. You will be mired in self-doubt and perhaps self-pity too for even daring to think you can conquer Ms. Rand's wordplay and coerce the words into making themselves that much discernible for the audience.

In Leornard Peikoff's afterword, you'll have the complete profiling of the characters done, thus sparing you from some embarrassing ponderings later on. The lead character, Howard Roark, one of the most lauded characters in the world of literature, is also one of the most cryptic, incomprehensible, frustratingly inscrutable, complexly simple characters you'll ever read about. Ms. Rand has conceived the lead character in such a way that you'll be very often tempted to move over to the tenebrous side to fall in step with Howard Roark. The character defies all human logic and defying all human logic is what Rand calls the paragon of what a man ought to be. Dominique Francon, the only female character with gravitas, is only second next to Howard Roark in discombobulating anyone she comes across. Within the story, Dominique is the perfect epitome of social elegance; out of it, she is the greatest enigma. If you don't have the slightest clue what you are getting into, this masterpiece has the cunning to throw you off balance and laugh at your face. For someone who is so used to the 700-page Harry Potter books, this will be a paradigm shift. You keep slogging at it long enough and you'll be off your rocker soon. But, know this- craziness is totally worth it.

For Virtuosos:

I never attend calls for help without bringing a book along with me. My dad thinks that it's a stratagem I have invented to evade work and this has made him averse to books in general. So, one day, when my book-hating dad talked about his young days as a reader, I had to pay close attention. That's where I picked up words that sounded like "Ayn Rand" and "The Fountainhead", which I was hitherto oblivious to. I had to see for myself what could have possibly enticed my dad into reading. And I regretted my impulsive action for many days afterwards. There were days when I couldn't go any further, but abandoning a book midway is simply not me.

The primary difference between a 700 page children's book that I am used to and this 700 page long mind-boggler is that while the former is made of sequential order of events, where not even minute details like that of the flight of an inconsequential fly in the background is not spared, the latter is devoid of any detailed elucidation of the ways of the world, other than the bare necessities of who did what- instead of how it was done. Not knowing the mechanism of human interactions and knowing only the manifestations of the actions is what makes this story a skillful dilemma thrown at inexperienced readers like me.

Keating leaned back with a sense of warmth and well-being. He liked this book. It had made the routine of his Sunday morning breakfast a profound spiritual experience; he was certain that it was profound, because he didnt understand it.

Roark felt like the most empyreal, ethereal, intangible, other worldly book character among all the fictional characters I have encountered so far. Something about his stolid, aloof, unflappable persona makes him utterly unbelievable than even the impossibly ridiculous super heroes with superpowers.

It was very peculiar, thought Keating. Toohey was asking him a great many questions about Howard Roark. But the questions did not make sense. They were not about buildings, they were not about architecture at all. They were pointless personal questionsstrange to ask about a man of whom he had never heard before.

Does he laugh often?Very rarely.Does he seem unhappy?Never.Did he have many friends at Stanton?Hes never had any friends anywhere.The boys didnt like him?Nobody can like him.Why?He makes you feel it would be an impertinence to like him.Did he go out, drink, have a good time?Never.Does he like money?No.Does he like to be admired?No.Does he believe in God?No.Does he talk much?Very little.Does he listen if others discuss any ... idea with him?He listens. It would be better if he didnt.Why?It would be less insultingif you know what I mean, when a man listens like that and you know it hasnt made the slightest bit of difference to him.

Did he always want to be an architect?He..,Whats the matter, Peter?

Nothing. It just occurred to me how strange it is that Ive never asked myself that about him before. Heres whats strange: you cant ask that about him. Hes a maniac on the subject of architecture. It seems to mean so damn much to him that hes lost all human perspective. He just has no sense of humor about himself at allnow theres a man without a sense of humor, Ellsworth. You dont ask what hed do if he didnt want to be an architect.

No, said Toohey. You ask what hed do if he couldnt be an architect.

Hed walk over corpses. Any and all of them. All of us.

All the Objectivism, Individualism vs Collectivism stuff was too high-brow, finespun for me to comprehend. There were many glad moments when I found out that things were indeed what I thought they were; followed by my whoops of triumph, but The Fountainhead was way more intense and profound for an average reader to grasp.

The creator lives for his work. He needs no other men. His primary goal is within himself. The parasite lives second-hand. He needs others. Others become his prime motive.

To sum up, The Fountainhead explains four types of men- the man who was; the man who could have been; man who couldn't be(doesn't know); the man who couldn't be(knows) and contends that the first one is the ideal for all of us to swear by. And somehow this averment sounds like the most preposterous one as much as it is to accept Roark as someone to be put on a pedestal and worshipped as a trend setter.

The Fountainhead extols egotism as the superior most virtue, which highlights the cause of the story- one man against the world as we know it.

The egotist in the absolute sense is not the man who sacrifices others. He is the man who stands above the need of using others in any manner.

Rand's outright proclamations in this novel invited the ire of the society of "people for the greater good." In my honest opinion, Rand's audacious undertaking is what added to the greatness of an individual and romanticized the concept of "ego", thus making it one of the greatest literary works of the 20th century.

See the rest here:

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand - Goodreads