
Are you familiar with the restrained feeling when you’re about to pass judgment or opinion on some movies, books, plays, art pieces? I’m sure most of us are. Beauty—and eventually, the truth—is more or less a product of consensus and conspiracy. We look up to other people’s perspective before we freely announce ours. If you thought that none of the things in this world is original, well, you might as well learn that neither are thoughts and opinions.
Society consists of second-hander people. But that’s just one scratch off the surface of “The Fountainhead”, a novel by Ayn Rand which first published nearly 70 years ago. Ayn Rand put together this story of beauty, freedom, freewill, selfishness and selflessness in one’s life within—as I imagine it—a big frame of Objectivism.
And what a world she had created! It was actually an ordinary, every-day life around us. But Rand had put so many insights, thoughts, and words into the dialogues and characters’ behaviors, it became extravagant in somewhat disturbing way.
I think this book had caught me in a bad time. (Or is it the other way around?) At the last days of my reading, I found myself depressed and unmotivated. I suspected that the fabricated life depicted in this book might have something to do with it. But, it might have not. So, I suggest you don’t take this paragraph into account.
I will try to elaborate my prior statements. Ayn Rand created a heroic being she considered as a perfect man, Howard Roark. Through him, Rand penetrated the idea that human, ideally, conduct a life with the purpose of happiness achieved by being productive; doing (and saying, for that matter) things that one pleases. To be one self completely, uncompromising, untouched by influence and approval of others. And no sacrificing to others. Because self-sacrifice is overrated in society, believed to be the only means to gain happiness and social stability. As Rand would put it, and I rephrase: when a man is happy and fulfilled, he will be able to give and bring happiness in society almost automatically.
The following excerpt is taken from an editorial wrote by Roark’s ally, Gail Wynand:
“We have come to hold, in a kind of mawkish stupor, that greatness is to gauged by self-sacrifice. Self-sacrifice, we drool, is the ultimate virtue. Let’s stop and think for a moment. Is sacrifice a virtue? Can a man sacrifice his integrity? His honor? His freedom? His ideal? His convictions? The honesty of his feeling? The independence of his thought?”
Before I started on page one, I found out that Ayn Rand was an atheist. I think it’s an interesting fact to consider while reading her writing. And as I was reading, I thought of Friedrich Nietzsche who also lost his faith and came up with his philosophical breakthrough. I think Rand’s concept of this heroic man is fairly similar with Nietzsche’s concepts; the Superman and the moral system of good and evil as opposed to Christianity’s.
Now, The Fountainhead is not about religion. Although, the idea of glorifying a human being will encounter the submission in religion belief at some point, relatively.
Regardless, I found many mind-opening statements in this book. And I trust anyone would or have, as well. You would found them entwined in myriad of long, long, twisted descriptions and dialogues of this horrifying world of Howard Roark, Architect. One of my personal favorite is this:
“That’s the emptiness I couldn’t understand in people. That’s what stopped me whenever I faced committee. Men without an ego. Opinion without a rational process. Motion without brakes or motor. Power without responsibility. The second-hander acts, but the source of his actions is scattered in every other living person. It’s everywhere and nowhere and you can’t reason with him. He’s not open to reason. You can’t speak to him—he can’t hear.”

The Marriage Plot adalah novel Jeffrey Eugenides yang ke tiga. Dari dua novelnya yang lalu, saya punya apresiasi atas penyusunan kalimat, bahasa, dan pilihan katanya yang cerdas. Penuturannya panjang dan mendetail. Kadang-kadang adegan yang sedang dia kupas bukanlah masalah rumit, tapi penuturannya yang menguntai tiap simpul dari pangkal sampai ujung memberi tambahan berat pada konten sesungguhnya. Konsekuensinya, mungkin beberapa pembaca ada yang merasa bosan, merasa Mr. Eugenides ini menggadang-gadangkan masalah saja. Tapi poin ini yang saya rasa membuat novel-novelnya masuk dalam genre Literary Fiction, dan bukan “sekedar” Popular Fiction.

