Initially I thought why is this book called the Fountainhead anyway? The name suggests the source, the evolution of ideas. Doesn't seem relevant to the plot. Since the main character, Howard Roark barely speaks and only clear knowledge about him is that he loves the earth and creation, which is why he is a hard headed architect. He thinks he's in the right always and that others don't concern him. Ergo, Ego.
Later on, when his and Domeniquies lives intervine, most of the time I just thought what a hardcore S&M these both have going on in their heads! This is utter nonsense. To be so perfectly understood, I've been looking for it all my life and haven't have any results to show yet.
The only time I thought anything at all about their love would be when they give each other up and profess their love to one another.
Clearly I haven't finished reading the book yet and there may be more on it later. But I found myself wondering why aren't books like these written anymore. If they are, where are they? I am annoyed and fed up of practical and self help, non fictions and aspirational ones. No one has patiance anymore. No one wants to read for pleasure anymore. Everyone wants a quick fix for their life. No one wants to admire the creativity anymore!
The Fountainhead so far that I have read has not revolved around the main character at all! Which is great because the extent of the universe inside the books seems surreal. There is time to tell a back story for Ellesworth. There's time to understand the working of the world the author has created. There's time to relate it to ours. There's so much time and emotions that flow from every character but the Main one. Also since Roark speaks in one word or less, and his thoughts are not presented in the story. Only his actions, and how the world perceives it. And the effects of his being and the after effects of his doing.
I started this rant for asking more classics from the world. But somehow this has turned into a book review. But the book it still waiting to be read.
The Classics of the world won't remain if no one read them. If the world is changing so fast, how will classics arise, or be defined? The love for books or the characters won't be formed if there is no time taken to write them. Or read them.
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