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About this sample
About this sample
Words: 811 |
Page: 1|
5 min read
Updated: 24 February, 2025
Words: 811|Page: 1|5 min read
Updated: 24 February, 2025
Man’s essence, as depicted in the biblical context, is fundamentally tied to dirt. This substance, often mischaracterized as “soil,” embodies purity until tainted by human actions, be it blood, saliva, or mere footprints. Much like Eve's act of staining it with the juice of an apple, humanity’s connection to this earth is complex. Biologically, the formation of a human being is a result of the primal urges, hormones, and sometimes emotions of two other humans. This creation, akin to dirt, can retain its beauty or become sullied. Therefore, humanity bears the responsibility for its own purity and worth. When one holds a handful of the earth from which they originated, or examines the haploid that gave rise to their cells, declaring it insignificant or dirty also reflects on their self-worth. Conversely, recognizing the beauty, potential, and greatness in one’s roots is a discovery of the same attributes within oneself. This concept, termed “man-worship” by Ayn Rand in her introduction to The Fountainhead, is exemplified through characters like Ellsworth Toohey, Gail Wynand, and the protagonist, Howard Roark.
The Fountainhead delineates three distinct classes of power: traditional, reversed, and apathetic, each represented by Wynand, Toohey, and Roark, respectively. The common thread among these men and their methods is their unwavering belief in the aforementioned concept of man-worship: the capacity to perceive “not what men are, but what men could be” (328). The manner in which each individual expresses this belief complements their approach to power and the goals they pursue.
Gail Wynand epitomizes traditional power, which is rooted in external superiority and intimidation. Born into poverty with “nothing but his two fists” (400), he leverages his physical prowess to dominate his gang and his intellect to influence adults. By the age of fifty-one, Wynand has amassed everything he desired as a child and more, yet he finds himself contemplating suicide. His power instills fear; he threatens others' reputations and businesses, thereby jeopardizing their security. Men feel compelled to comply with his demands for self-preservation. Yet, Wynand possesses a “charming complaisance about being used,” which lulls others into a false sense of security, only for them to realize “they had been used instead” (411).
In contrast to Wynand, Ellsworth M. Toohey embraces a form of manipulation rooted in intellectual dominance. From an early age, Toohey adopts a humble demeanor, presenting himself “like a martyr” to elicit “a respectful solicitude” (294, 295) from others. His ability to instill a sense of safety and trust mirrors Wynand’s charm. By openly admitting his faults before others can point them out, Toohey subconsciously convinces them he possesses no flaws. His tactics often involve reverse psychology—making subtle suggestions until individuals believe they independently conceived the idea. For instance, Toohey exploits Hopton Stoddard under the guise of humanitarianism, aiming to establish a home for subnormal children. Yet, the home lacks genuine purpose; it merely displaces individuals from other institutions while neglecting the needs of children in the surrounding slums. This raises questions about Toohey’s true motivations, revealing a pattern of oxymoronic intentions that yield little benefit.
After being expelled from architectural school, Howard Roark stands at the edge of a cliff, admiring its material and structure. He perceives that “these rocks…are here for me; waiting for the drill, the dynamite and my voice…waiting for the shape my hands will give them” (16). Roark embodies a crucial tenet of Rand’s philosophy: the earth is at Man’s disposal. He advocates for a wiser, more thoughtful use of resources, emphasizing simplicity and integrity in both individuals and architecture. Unlike his mainstream peers, such as Peter Keating, Roark refuses to “choke [a building] with trimmings” and rejects sacrificing its purpose for superficiality (165). This minimalist approach extends to his lifestyle; by desiring only what he needs, Roark liberates himself through simplicity. His emotional detachment from societal judgments further fortifies his power. Roark’s influence is self-directed; when Peter Keating queries how Roark consistently makes decisions, Roark responds, “‘How can you let others decide for you?’” (33). This stark contrast highlights the divergent paths of their lives.
Wynand, Toohey, and Roark represent three distinct manifestations of humanity and its assertion of power. Their perspectives are shaped by an “aerial view,” allowing them to assess their surroundings without constraints. The defining factor among these men lies in how they choose to wield their power: through blatant exploitation, cunning manipulation, or a quiet, transformative revolution.
In conclusion, The Fountainhead illustrates the multifaceted nature of power as exhibited by its principal characters. Wynand’s traditional, fear-driven approach contrasts sharply with Toohey’s subtle, psychological manipulation, while Roark’s apathetic power reflects a self-sufficient philosophy. Each character’s relationship with power offers profound insights into the human condition, ultimately prompting readers to reflect on their own assertions of power and the potential within.
Work Cited:
Rand, Ayn. The Fountainhead. 50th Anniversary ed. New York: New York, 1993.
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