Without doubt, the most important piece of literature to ever enter my life, from a completely “selfish” standpoint.
It tells the story of a young idealistic Architect, named Howard Roark, and his struggles against a world that hates the man who loves what he does, and who makes no apologies for his utterly one-track mind. He loves building, he loves people who understand why he does so, and he loves mankind and their ability to create. The Architecture aspect is irrelevant- Roark could be an accountant and the basic premise remains, being that of never bowing to external pressures regarding the things you love, assuming you’re even aware of the pressure. Howard Roark never is.
Written by the infamous Ayn Rand, this book uncovered a part of my brain that I know will cause me to be successful, driven and likely espoused by a great number of people. Roark represents, what I consider to be, the perfect man. Totally unachievable (not according to Rand however) to be as he is totally, but I certainly have taken facets of him upon myself. Hard work- insanely long hours to get the job done, because there isn’t anywhere you’d rather be, the thrill of producing a finished product that you have created by defeating a problem that most would ignore. High standards of who’s company you keep- Roark eschews the concept of whoring himself about, instead choosing to avoid men and women alike who are not of pure character. Making the choice to either ignore others completely, or deal only with those who understand. Every day we’re surrounded by false personalities, people driven to be loved by the nameless, faceless populace. Decisions made based on what society thinks. Who the fuck cares? Why must you care? Why must you even be aware of it? The work has to be done in the best way possible, letting generations-old, erroneous concepts influence and warp it into an impure product is the greatest failing. It must stand up by itself, free from the perception of people. It’s so obvious, and so brilliant.
A major part of this book which also appealed, or perhaps made sense to me, was the idea of being held down by the things you love. Roark’s eventual love-interest, Dominique Francon propounds on this, a woman stronger of mind than most would consider possible, who has coasted through life considering mankind with utter disgust.
She is discussing a beautiful Roman/Grecian bust she happened upon. She knew it to be utterly, unimaginably striking. She made a point of purchasing it at great cost from the gallery. She took it to her home. She looked upon it.
She flung it down her stairs, watching it shatter, never to be seen by any man, or more importantly, herself, ever again.
“It is the things we love which enslave us.”
She knew it to be true that being aware of it’s existence, such a beautiful existence, was a form of control on her.
I wish to be as Rand describes Roark. Unaware of other people, treating those who deserve it with a slight dose of contemptuous derision. Producing work that is infallible, that works in every aspect, from the most minor detail, to be complete product standing complete.
I have sadly made the mistake of recommending this book to those who didn’t have a chance of grasping it. I have often thought that one must already have the seed of individualism planted in them to be able to understand Roark and Francon. For those who travel with the breeze of popular culture, this book will be as the daily news- a fleeting source of enlightenment, a flickering flame which soon disappears into a puff of smoke in the night air, to be forgotten and never considered as it should be. If you understand anything of this, I urge you to devour this book, as many times as you can. You will certainly emerge a person with a different, or confirmed outlook.
I could easily write several pages on this book. It means a great deal to me. I owe it a great deal, and will owe it more yet when I am wealthy and successful- and happy. I’ll leave with some quotes from the book which popped out to me when reading. Enjoy
“If you want my advice, Peter, you’ve made a mistake already. By asking me. By asking anyone. Never ask people. Not about your work. Don’t you know what you want? How can you stand it, not to know?”- Roark
“Do you mean to tell me that you’re thinking seriously of building that way, when and if you are an architect?”
“Yes.”
“My dear fellow, who will let you?”
“That’s not the point. The point is, who will stop me?”
- Discussion between Roark and his Tutor at his school of Architecture upon being expelled
“I don’t make comparisons. I never think of myself in relation to anyone else. I just refuse to measure myself as part of anything. I’m an utter egotist” – Roark
