Reviews for The Fountainhead [With Headphones]

The average rating for The Fountainhead [With Headphones] based on 2 reviews is 2 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2007-07-09 00:00:00 Charles Carpenter Would you like to hear the only joke I've ever written? Q: "How many Objectivists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" A: (Pause, then disdainfully) "Uh...one!" And thus it is that so many of us have such a complicated relationship with the work of Ayn Rand; unabashed admirers at the age of 19, unabashedly horrified by 25, after hanging out with some actual Objectivists and witnessing what a--holes they actually are, and also realizing that Rand and her cronies were one of the guiltiest parties when it came to the 1950s "Red Scare" here in America. Here in Rand's first massive manifesto-slash-novel, we meet the theoretically ultimate Objectivist -- architect Howard Roarke, who is so just completely sure of what he should be doing with his constructions, he won't even participate in his industry at all unless his client gives him complete and utter control over the final project; which is why Howard Roarke barely ever completes any projects over the course of his life, which according to Rand is because of the vast unwashed masses of the insipid keeping the obvious genius down. Righteous, Ayn, righteous! Ultimately it's easy to see in novels like this one why Rand is so perfect for late teenagers, but why she elicits eye rolls by one's mid-twenties; because Objectivism is all about BEING RIGHT, and DROPPING OUT IF OTHERS CAN'T UNDERSTAND THAT, and LET 'EM ALL GO TO HELL AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED, without ever taking into account the unending amount of compromise and cooperation and sometimes sheer altruism that actually makes the world work. Recommended, but with a caveat; that you read it before you're old enough to know better.

Review # 2 was written on 2007-11-28 00:00:00 Sarith Lom This book is the equivalent of a drunk, eloquent asshole talking to you all night at a bar. You know you should just leave and you could never explain later why you didn't, but you just sit there listening to the guy ramble on. It's all bullshit, and his arguments defending, say, his low-key but all-consuming misogyny aren't that good and don't even really make sense, but just for a second you find yourself thinking, "Huh, the man might have a point..." before you catch yourself and realize that no, he is just an asshole. You feel dirty and bad afterwards, realizing how close you came to the abyss, but there was that one second where, for some reason, his selfish, arrogant stances, which have hardened into granite truth for him, bluntly force you into a momentary empathy with his ideas--ironically, the one thing he will never, no matter how many shots of Jameson you buy him, give you. The only real difference between the drunk at the bar and The Fountainhead is that the drunk probably wouldn't go so far as claiming, when relating an account of rape, that the woman wanted it, even craved it. Ayn Rand goes there while remaining perfectly true to her Objectivism bullshit. At least the drunk might buy you a drink. Ayn Rand would probably object to it on philosophical grounds.