For each of the following quotations from The Fountainhead, explain in a single, unified essay the quotations meaning in the story and its wider significance.
- HELLER: “You know, there’s a thing that stumps me. You’re the coldest man I know. And I can understand why—knowing that you’re actually a fiend in your own quiet sort of way—why I always feel, when I see you, that you’re the most life-giving person I’ve ever met.”
- LANSING: “I want a good hotel, and I have certain standards, and they’re my own, and you’re the one who can give me what I want. And when I fight for you, I’m doing—on my side of it—just what you’re doing when you design a building.”
- KEATING: “How do you always manage to decide?” ROARK: “How can you let others decide for you?”
Ayn Rand’s novel The Fountainhead is a search for the fulfilled image of man as he is meant to be, i.e. the perfect man. Howard Roark is the embodiment of this ideal, just as John Galt, Dagny Taggart, and other characters are meant to be in Rand’s subsequent novel Atlas Shrugged. However, The Fountainhead provides insight into and emphasizes the inner workings of the mind of the perfect man, as opposed to emphasizing his greater role in society and history. The true goal of The Fountainhead is to explain the nature of human perfection, as well its opposite, the human parasite evidenced and epitomized in the form of Ellsworth M. Toohey. By seeing the world through Roark’s eyes, we are able to see the world as a place of freedom and opportunity, meant to be populated by capable and effectual individuals who hold ideals and work to successfully mold reality to their beliefs.
In The Fountainhead, Austin Heller tells Roark “You know, there’s a thing that stumps me. You’re the coldest man I know. And I can’t understand why—knowing that you’re actually a fiend in your own quiet sort of way—why I always feel, when I see you, that you’re the most life-giving person I’ve ever met.” On the surface, this comment seems inexplicable. Roark truly is a cold, egoistic individual. He neither understands, nor cares to understand, the needs of others. To conventional ethical systems, he is indeed a fiendish kind of man. So how can a cold, calculating, uncaring individual be a giver, even a fountainhead, of life? The answer is that Howard Roark is a man who truly lives. He is not a hollow shell of a man, subject to and directed by the whims of countless others (most of whom are themselves only shells), such as Peter Keating. Nor is he a parasitical void, existing only to consume the emotional, mental, and physical products of others, as is Ellsworth Toohey. Howard Roark is an entity, a living entity, which through his simple existence provides a certain source of power and assurance of life.
Roark, and men like him, are a self-sustaining fire. His one and only concern is to continue living, and living on his own terms, dependent on no one else to tend him and keep him alive. However, just as a fire gives off energy in the form of heat and life simply by the virtue of its existence, so does Roark give off energy in the form of emotion and vitality simply by the virtue of his existence. He does not intend for this expenditure to benefit others, but neither does he begrudge it for he receives like benefits from the energy given off by every other real person he comes into contact with, for they too are fires. It is a trade of life and energy, not a loss (at least in a world populated by real people). The problem is that there are many non-real “people” in the world. These non-entities are voids, like dark nights. When a fire is placed into a dark night, it continues to expend its energy, simply because it exists. The night, however, simply absorbs this energy, and gives nothing in return. Even the greatest star cannot warm or light the entire void of space, because no matter how much energy is expended the void passively consumes it. This is the reality of Roark’s world, where non-people simply absorb the life he offers and offer nothing in return.
But even in a night where no other flame returns the energy, a fire can continue to exist for as long as there is fuel. But now envision that the night begins to rain, harder and harder. Even the brightest, warmest fire will begin to sputter and, eventually, go out under these conditions. This is the result of malignant voids such as Ellsworth Toohey and those who follow him, as well as the circumstances that eventually overcome people such as Henry Cameron when their fuel becomes wet. Yet even the soggiest fuel may be quickly dried and rendered usable in the proximity of another fire. This is how Howard Roark is a giver of life—he dries out our internal fuel through his mere unintending presence, and allows us to continue living.
Another important aspect required to understand Roark’s nature, is to understand his basic psychology. Is he guided by emotion, or reason, or some undefined hand of Fate? In chapter 10 of Part 2, Kent Lansing states, “I want a good hotel, and I have certain standards of what is good, and they’re my own, and you’re the one who can give me what I want. And when I fight for you, I’m doing—on my side of it—just what you’re doing when you design a building.” This statement tells what Lansing is guided by: standards, and not just any standards, but his own standards. The same is true for Roark: his actions are also driven by his standards. But from where does he derive his standards? The answer is from the rational interpretation of his ideals. A man’s ideals are his mental values. What is an ideal building? A building which gives form to all of the values we desire in such a construction. Since every individual holds different values, and places different emphasis on specific values, every individual will have different ideals. Hence, if an individual makes a rational interpretation of their ideals, they will develop their own (unique) standards in every situation. Howard Roark and Kent Lansing hold their standards to be inviolable, and are therefore men of integrity, as Lansing proceeds to state.
Lansing’s statement also reflects another important aspect of Objectivism. It shows that Lansing does not fight the board of directors on Roark’s behalf, but on his own. Lansing acts out of his “rational self-interest”; he wants a hotel, and Roark is the only one who can give him what he wants. Therefore, he deals with Roark equally, as a trader, not out of any charitable feelings he holds for the architect. Finally, Lansing and Roark are both protecting their ideals and standards. While Roark does so in the very act of constructing a building according to his own conceptions, Lansing defends his standards by giving Roark the chance to design the building which they both desire.
The statement has important implications. So often we are instructed to adopt pre-made standards created by indefinable others, which often conflict with our own principles. What does it mean if we abandon our own discernment, and concede to accepting these foreign value judgments? It is, simply, a betrayal of our own values, rationality, and self-worth. To accept an external belief or standard which conflicts with (or merely is not) your own judgment over the product of said judgment is an abandonment of rationality (which Ayn Rand views as the fundamental nature and requirement of mankind). It is the acceptance of an ideal which is not our own, and therefore the support of values we do not respect (and which may even be at odds with our own values). In order to accept a subjugation of our values and judgment, we must accept that we are inferior to whatever entity is imposing its will upon us, thereby lowering our self-worth proportionately to our acceptance of foreign ideals. This betrayal of one’s values and self-worth is precisely what Roark and Lansing are unwilling and unable to commit. It is a betrayal of integrity, their prime value.
The value of the importance of the power and rationality of the individual is best expressed in another statement, occurring when Peter Keating is speaking to Roark about his fears of inadequacy. Keating says, “How do you always manage to decide?” to which Roark responds, “How can you let others decide for you?”. To Roark, it is impossible to understand how Keating could value his own judgment so little in any matter, let alone decisions which control the course of his life.
The individual is the central figure in Ayn Rand’s philosophy. It is, after all, a philosophy of “rational self-interest”, and as she points out collectives are only groups composed of individuals. Any judgment is an individual experience, which relies upon the thought of the individual to which it belongs. Just as judgment originates within the individual, so too does action result only from these judgments. Effective action is the result of an individual attempting to bring their ideals into reality in accordance with their rational judgment. Therefore, if an individual relies upon the opinions and judgments of other individuals, groups, and society (the ultimate collective), to make their decisions for them, no action results. Peter Keating never makes his own decision; it is always supplied for him by his mother, Toohey, or some other figure, whereas Howard Roark never asks for the opinion of another individual or collective. His own judgment is the ultimate standard to which he holds himself; the judgments of others matter only so far as they affect his interaction with them on the level of a trader of values.
Ayn Rand’s philosophy of Objectivism, as embodied by her novels, carries with it an inherent respect for the nature of man, and reverence for his accomplishments. Howard Roark is an image not only of what man could be, but of what he should be. So, in closing, I quote Rand herself: “I trust that no one will tell me that men such as I write about don’t exist. That this book has been written—and published—is my proof that they do.”
