The Fountainhead, is it worth it.

Yes, because it’s not individuality that counts, it’s non-conformity. Things are BETTER if they’re unpopular. I don’t care if you really do like french fries, onion rings are better because most people don’t like them! The things most worth knowing are those things that society rejects!

I recall my college days, seeing a campaign for student council where the candidate, a self-professed individualist, used the slogan “Don’t Conform! Vote XXXXX”(no it didn’t rhyme or anything). Every time I saw one of those a little alarm went off in my head that said “You know, conformity or nonconformity isn’t the issue. The motive for each individual’s decision is.” If you’re following the crowd because you’ve made your own conscious decision to go to the same goal the majority is moving towards then it doesn’t matter that they all happen to be moving the same direction. If you’re going with the crowd just because that’s the way the crowd is going that’s conformity. If you’re going against the crowd just because the crowd is going one way, that’s mindless rebellion. Neither is particularly worthy.

Judge for yourself if you wish, listen to the feedback you requested if you wish. Draw your own conclusions or do your own experimentation, but reading a book BECAUSE others have panned it is as ridiculous as reading a book BECAUSE lots of others have. Read some summaries, find out what the book is about from an objective standpoint(if possible, hard with Rand) and decide for yourself if you want to read it based upon its appeal to you as an individual.

Enjoy,
Steven

I think John Mace was saying that a book that causes such an uproar is worth reading if only to see what the uproar is all about.

Yes. It’s not that it was panned, but that it was so passionately panned. Makes you wonder why people feel so threathened.

Thanks, Holden. I’ll Catch you in the Rye later.

Oh my lord. Guin, I’m still laughing. I’ll freely admit here that while I find her Objectivism to be pretty narcissistic, I love the tale. I love the passion for the work.

I love her way with images and her way to imprint the drive of humans into the story. I think she delivered the same kind of visual intensity as was delivered in my all-time favorite book, My Name Is Asher Lev, by Chaim Potok. One can feel the stone dust and as a stone sculptor, I find the book to ring fairly true to the work.

Then again, there’s Dorothy Parker. How brilliantly amusing.

Cartooniverse

I don’t see WHY people get so up in arms when people dis The Ayn.

Why take it so personally?

Guin:

Maybe I’m biased, but the people on this thread who seem to be “up in arms” are those dis-ing The Fountainhead. I saw a few posts saying they like the book and quite a few more that threw out sarcistic insults. Am I missing something?

FWIW, Rand was very impressed by the work (and perhaps the turbulent personal life) of Frank Lloyd Wright, upon whom the protatgonist of The Fountainhead, the young architect Howard Roark, is very loosely patterned on.

A few similarities I’ve spotted (and there may be others) between the Roark and Wright, and Rand and Wright:

  1. Both architects weathered a stormy apprenticeship at the feet of an acknowledged (if perhaps underrated) genius – although the circumstances of their leaving were quite different. Roark’s employer/mentor was, IIRC, very old, very alcoholic, broken in spirit, and close to death. Wright’s employer/mentor was the esteemed and aging Louis Sullivan, famous for two innovations in particular: the skyscraper, and his beaux-arts flourishes (floral motifs he designed himself, for the stonework and the like on his buildings’ fascades – think early (English)Arts & Crafts movement and William Morris as likely influences or simultaneous developments). Re. skycrapers, Sullivan is known as the Father of the Skyscraper (come to think about it, so might’ve Roark’s mentor), being the first to recognize the structural revolution that the cast iron/steel frame represented. I’m not a Sullivan expert, but I believe that quite a few of his buildings are still standing in NYC, at least.

As for striking out on their own – in the novel, Roark’s employer tries to discourage him from the field altogether, warning him that it (and the unreasonable clientele he’ll have to contend with) will break him. I think he actually dies, which spurs Roark to try his hand in an independent practice. IRL, however, the just-out-of-school FLW managed to learn quite a bit from Sullivan, before beginning the moonlighting that Sullivan found out about. I think historical accounts actually vary over whether Sullivan formally fired Wright or whether Wright took off first. Can anyone clarify this?
2) One of Roark’s buildings is named for its owner, who commissioned it (a common practice). The thing is, it’s also the name of one of Wright’s patrons. I’m getting a bit fuzzy on the details (it’s been years since I’ve read either/about Rand or Wright), but I’d check out the “Dana” and “Enright” houses. One of Wright’s most famous “Prairie”-style homes is the Mrs. Dana House; I’m pretty sure there was a Dana client/house in the novel, too. Conversely, I’m pretty sure there was a client named Roger Enright who commissioned a house in the novel; I have a feeling Wright did an Enright project (not necessarily a house), too.

  1. The myriad descriptions of architectural creeds, concepts, drawings, and realized projects throughout the novel could well describe the writings and work of FLW. Rand was quite openly an admirer of Wright’s (although I don’t think the architect ever returned the favor), and it shows. I think even many detractors of Rand’s philosophizing and “two-dimensional characters” would have to acknowledge that her writing makes a the subject of architecture come alive with a fiery passion it rarely gets in fiction – and that her novel has probably awakened an interest (or even passion) for the subject in many of the readers of the novel. [In fact, that was my own progression: read the novel at age 17, was reading the writings of FLW at 18 or so, and have since read more about FLW, Louis Sullivan, and architecture in general.]

  2. Both FLW and HR had career difficulties with, variously, certain critics, certain press coverage, and, at times, the public. Both men had similarly problematic personalities – highly perfectionistic, demanding and critical of themselves and their peers and underlings alike; had contentious relationships with some would-be clients, in which the architects suffered an unwillingness to be politic, engage in small talk, or flatter or kowtow to the client on the one hand, and perhaps a certain impolitic or unwise outspokenness, on the other. Both had difficulty landing clients for a lengthy period, followed by a slowly building base of clients stemming from positive word-of-mouth and the growing public profile of their past projects. Interestingly (to me, anyway), Rand wrote her novel in the mid 1940’s, before FLW enjoyed his decades-long “second wind” and his greatest popular acclaim and recognition. Her novel ends with Howard Roark having survived his latest trial (no pun intended), but with his future nonetheless uncertain – not entirely unlike the state of FLW’s in the mid-'40’s.

  3. Both FLW and AR had, ahem, supersized egos, libidos that got them in occasional trouble, and a penchant for cult-building. FLW established several “compound”-like combination home and practices that he named “Taliesin,” in which his post-grad apprentices slaved away in the kitchen and garden as well as over the drawing boards. On a much smaller scale, Rand also encouraged acolytes to gather at her feet for weekly Objectivist meetings at her Manhattan apartment in the 1950’s-'60’s. Interestingly, one of her most fervid admirers was a young economics student named Alan Greenspan. As in “current Chairman of the Federal Reserve Alan Greenspan.” You can probably find a photo of him easily enough with Rand in any biography or Rand-centered memoir.

Start with Ayn Rand’s novel Anthem. It’s much shorter and contains most of her basic philosophy, including her hatred of collecitivism. If it appeals to you, then tackle Fountainhead.

The movie is a really bad adaptation, which is kind of a shame. For all her talk in the novel about not betraying artistic and creative vision, Rand’s screenplay obviously bends to the bland moral formulas of the Hays code.

Of the 10+ posters who have advised against the book in this thread, only one has advocated burning or hurling against a wall. Perhaps the objectivist definition of “most” is different from the standard English definition.

Well, your assumption that I’m an Objectivist is incorrect. I think the phrase is “check your premise”. The “burn it” and “throw it” were examples. As in: other people didn’t use those EXACT words, but similar tone. Get it?

It’s a fine book. Not great literature, but something more than just an ‘entertaining read’. There are big ideas in it - philosophy worth pondering, large concepts, ideological extremes. The book should make you think, and that’s a good thing.

Some people don’t ‘get’ Rand. I don’t just mean people who disagree with her philosophy (I disagree with quite a bit of it), but those who don’t understand why her books and characters are structured the way they are.

For instance, Rand’s characters are often dissed as being ‘unrealistic’. They are extremely good or extremely evil. They are great architects or terrible ones. That sort of thing. Black and white, no nuance.

But the thing is, Rand wrote in the romantic tradition. That tradition believes in characters as archetypes. As ideals. As personifications of ideas. They aren’t meant to be ‘average’ people at all.

Romantics write about the world as it could be, not the world as it is. People who don’t get that see the artificial structures and think it’s bad writing. They see the one-dimensional characters and think it’s simplistic.

But the point to romantic literature is that you have to take the work as a whole. Like a big jigsaw puzzle, you put all these little pieces together, and a picture emerges. Look at any indiidual piece, and it’s confusing.

The other thing about Rand is that she uses her novels to educate people about her philosophy, and here is where the controversy comes in. Because the people who dislike her message tend to HATE her books with a white-hot passion. Because the ‘good guys’ are the ones espousing the philosophy they dislike, and the people who voice the philosophy they believe in are portrayed as snakes and thieves, pretty much. So for people who believe in socialism or other forms of collectivism, an Ayn Rand book is a 600-1200 page slap in the face.

Now granted, writing philosophy as fiction allows Rand to stack the deck in favor of what she believes in. In a non-fiction book, there is some onus on the writer to at least consider countervaling opinion. Opposing arguments must at least be considered, and logical arguments against them constructed. In fiction, you can get away with marginalizing opposing viewpoints simply by having them be espoused by despicable people.

The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged are worth reading, simply because they are important works of literature. There’s no getting around the fact that these books have been wildly influential. For a long time, Atlas Shrugged kept winding up second on survey lists of the most influential books, right behind the bible. This, 50 years after its publication. And both books have been in continuous print since they were first released.

The Fountainhead is the most accessible of the two, and tells a pretty entertaining story. The hero, Howard Rourke, is a great character. A man of pure integrity. The best way to enjoy the book is to stop once in a while and just think about what you’ve read. Think about what the characters are saying, try to grasp the larger concepts behind the discussions. Engage your brain.

In the end, you may wind up throwing the book across the room anyway. And that’s fine.

Perhaps the test for the work as literature is: is it worth reading if you already know you disagree with Rand’s philosophy?

(And contrary to what some Rand-ites seem to think, it is possible to analyse and understand Rand’s thought in the same way as any other philosopher or political thinker, relying on a combination of primary and secondary sources and without reading all her novels.)

Oops, should read more:

From http://www.aristos.org/aynrand.htm

So according to her there is a place for emotion.

So she re-defined “Reason” and “Emotion” and the problem went away? Brilliant!

Enjoy,
Steven

“Randroid” is to be preferred over “Rand-ite” or “Rand-head” because “Randroid” does a better job of evoking an image of a cold, emotionless being devoid of empathy.

Ok, like every other writer on the subject hasn’t defined reason and emotion. Aristotle, Kant and all the rest tried to define reason and emotion so I guess Rand is not allowed?

[quote
Emotions are, by definition, irrational[/quote]

I found the definition of emotion thus:

From dictionary.com, irrational is not a part of the definition so the first part of your agrument is flawed.

And of course I LOVE the reaction that if you hate a book, it must be because you’re secretly afraid of the ideas.

Dude, I hurl a LOT of books against the wall; it’s no comment whatsoever on their politics, just on their stinkiness.

refusal brings up a good point… is it worth reading regardless of your view on Rand’s objectivism?

I’d say no. I found it incredibly dull and heartless, and the only reason I’m glad that I read it was to get an understanding of her philosophical point of view (this was the first book of hers that I had read). For the record, I don’t agree with it and find it over-simplistic and trite (the standard “there are two types of people in the world” nonsense).

As a postscript, I think part of the reason people who are opposed to it are vehemently so has to do with the “Randroids” (that had me chuckling) who advocate her. This was the case with me personally. The person who recommended it couldn’t understand why I didn’t like it (or hate it, for that matter) and basically seemed uninterested in it in general, and kept pushing until I developed a severe distaste for it.

PPS, could I use anymore parentheses?

It’s called humor. You know, joking?

What really annoyed me was Rand’s total strawman of leftists.

It was an entertaining read, but she really needed an editor. I did like Eddie, though.

As for Roark, I would hardly call him a great man. Rapists aren’t great men and great men aren’t rapists.

Guin:

Eddie? I think that was Atlas Shrugged, no? It’s been awhile since I read them, so I could be wrong.

She’s definitely an all or nothing gal, and while I can see that might turn a lot of people off, I found it refreshing. As I’m sure you know, she sees “Leftists” (collectivists) as not only wrong, but evil.

As for whether or not there was a rape, I guess that could be the source of endless argement. I’d say Rand wanted the act to be as close to rape as possible w/o it being an actual rape. But I’ll take you at your word that you see it as rape.