But What is a Fountainhead?

Three years and eight-hundred-plus pages later, I finally did it, I finally finished the Fountainhead. Oddly, though, I still don’t know what the hell a Fountainhead is. I know who the Fountainhead is; that’s easy, it is Howard Roark. But isn’t the Fountainhead a thing? I stayed up till 2AM last night reading the introduction and the prologue. Perhaps I did this because I wasn’t ready to give up the book, perhaps I did this because I was looking for further insight --- this truth, you all know, is I did this because I am compulsive and obsessive and I always read the introduction and prologue. I don’t do it for intellectual reasons (hell, I read even children’s books cover-to-cover); I do it because I have to do it. Seldom am I rewarded. In fact – almost never. One wonderful exception was A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Eggars shared his mocking genius starting with the copyright page and justified my crazy on every page thereafter. Yes, I even read the copyright page. I wish I were kidding.

Anyway, I was not rewarded by reading Ayn Rand’s introduction nor by reading some scholar’s unoriginal love-obsession with her at the end. In fact, I was punished. First, I am tired now. Second, I failed to find something I wasn’t looking for – justification, purpose, a one-sentence definition of “objectivism,” whether Rand sees herself as Dominique Francon, and what the hell a Fountainhead is. Third, full-notice that my COD is completely out of control. This is exemplified by the fact that I couldn’t stop reading a boring and pointless extroduction just as much as by the fact that I carried Purell into a meeting yesterday and used it about as much as I used my pen. Fuck, I am slipping.

The book, itself, I highly recommend. It is in my top 5, all time. It was well-written, interesting, and encouraged me to think. Hell, the book even got to me emotionally. At times I woke up depressed, others inspired. Further, the book has helped me grow into not being afraid of saying “no” or hearing the answer “no” to a question I was formally afraid to ask. You know what question I am talking about ----the only important question --- “will you grab drinks with me?”

Thank you, Taylor and Leslie, for presenting it to me on my twentieth-something birthday; thank you, Taylor, for the beautiful and appropriate inscription on the inside jacket; thank you, Leslie, for hiding your inscription on page 231. (Please note: I just wrote the longest sentence fragment ever!) I now better understand why people, my protective other friends, were upset with Taylor for his selection. Yes it is a dangerous book, yes Ayn Rand is a crazy $#*. She makes some points worth noting, others worth ignoring, and still others to be despised, but she respects her readers who know the difference and doesn’t care about the readers that don’t. That is her right, she is the author and I’ve exercised my right, as the reader, to learn and grow from her book as well as call her a crazy $#*.