The Fountainhead

For those of you who read my blog regularly and notice my weird titles, this is not just a weird title. I want to discuss one of my favorite novels. And its not my favorite novel because I totally understand it, I actually don't. I like the ideas set forth. So warning. Don't read this if you ever intend to read this long, long novel.

Let's talk about Dominique and Roark. Interesting type of love. They have what people would call an odd relationship. But its love, and they both recognize it as so. So I question, is that what love is? They are two of a kind. Both rough on the edges; calloused. They fight this world, because its filled with fakes and people-pleasers. People who don't live life for themselves. Instead they waste it. Dominique and Roark live life according to them. They're not complacent. And they enjoy an unconventional love. Or is it unconventional? It is unconventional their love making; each time described as a violent act with victors and defeat--essentially, like rape. And this is the way they like it. They are enthralled in passion and contempt and respect and love. So is this love? This surrender? Dominique refused to let herself completely belong to Roark until she destroyed herself. She put herself through hell. And he knew it, and he wouldn't have wanted her any other way. So he would not take her when she threw herself at him. There was the perfect time, when they would truly belong with each other. And they both suffered. So is this love? This sure isn't the love we see in movies. This is explicit. Unconventional. But they waited for each other. That is love, I would hope.

Another thing. Dominique and Roark against the world. They did not set out to please. Roark wouldn't change for anyone, and he wouldn't get angry, and he wouldn't cry. He was emotionless. Any sign of emotion was complacent. But Roark loved architecture. He loved the buildings he yielded. Even when everyone was critical of them. Even when people jeered them. It is romantic to think that one can live life for oneself and no one else. But its unrealistic. Is it really possible to live completely a life of solitude? I think this is where the philosophy blurs. Don't people need societies? Ever since the first society in Mesopotamia, people have perpetuated the pattern; staying in packs, in close proximity to each other. Its either part of human nature, or just a huge mistake. In these societies, though, there have been great advances, advances that may not have been possible if not for a team effort. People come into this world, and they look for approval, they seek comraderie and respect, they crave love. So how then, can we really live life for ourselves? To do that we must keep others out. We must keep them away and not grant them any affection. Is that possible? I find it hard to believe.

And why do I find it hard to believe? Easy. I tried it. And in the end, I only came off as Daria instead of Roark and Dominique. I came off as this sarcastic, unfeeling person. And not that its not cool to be identified with a cartoon character, but it wasn't the effect I was shooting for. In the end, I only realized that all I want is the approval of my parents and my grandparents. I can't bear to let people down. Because I feel like the biggest failure. Whether it be as small as giving someone a ride. Or as big as picking a life. I need the approval of these people in my life because I can't help but care. Because if they are around me, I can't help but feel. And yeah, I know it sounds really really sappy, but its the truth, and maybe I'm spilling my heart onto a keyboard, but its your choice whether it affects your view of me. And I can't just go around doing what I love. Maybe if I didn't know them I could. But I know them, and I know what they want of me, and I can't help but think of them whenever I make a decision. So my life is living for them because they make me who I am. If that's shameful, so it is. And not only this, but I always thought that I would want Roark and Dominique's love. Minus the violent sex. But other than that. The fact that it could endure time, even apart from each other. I always thought that this is what love should be. You two against the world. The both of you willing to surrender to each other. Passion. Respect. And you would destroy yourself for the other. And I don't know, I guess I'm a sap. And maybe Roark isn't the picture of the perfect soulmate, but he's someone's.

The reason I like this novel, is because as many times as I read it, as many times as I try to rationalize the events, I can't find the right answer. And I continue to read it, and I continue to find minute details about why I like it. It keeps my mind thinking.