As a young boy, I always used to wonder why everything that I enjoyed and really wanted to do was considered inappropriate and futile. Why everything I, or any man for that matter, wanted from my life was not the right thing, and I was supposed to do things they considered right. It's a question that plagues most of us initially, but then we get used to the practical way of life and forget about such mundane things as 'our' happiness and 'our' enjoyment. We should live for other's happiness, they say, because it is virtuous. But is it?
This is one of the many questions The Fountainhead asks and it leaves you wondering. Wondering and questioning every ideal you have ever encountered, every lesson you ever learnt, everything you ever considered to be right.
I cannot sit here and mention any adjective that would suffice to define or describe what the book is, or what it can do to you. Books are supposed to do a number of things to you, but they are not supposed to be inconvenient, and they are not supposed to make you feel inadequate. This one does, but it's not the only thing it does.
If I had to quote any 'special' lines from the book, I could so much as go on and quote the whole book. Every word is important; every sentence, a treat to read. This isn't one of those books you read to find out what happens next, but for the pleasure of every word, perfectly put precisely where it was needed. The sentences flow from one to the next, the story grips you to sit through it, the philosophy makes you question every belief you ever had, and yet, none of it is overdone. If you haven't read this, you cannot know what brilliance is, or what it can be. This book gives you a perspective that you couldn't have had before. Read it for the unforgettable experience it is bound to give you, just as it gave me.
