Howard Roark, Edupunk
Mar. 2nd, 2012 09:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
People have told me that The Fountainhead is a far better book than Atlas Shrugged, so I decided to give the former a go, having bounced off the latter fairly hard about two-thirds of the way in. I'm one chapter in.
The one thing that impresses me most is that Roark, the hero of the story, is clearly an edupunk. His goal is to become an architect, and to see his impressive personal visions cast into steel, concrete, wood and stone. In this sense, he is like any other visionary architect. But his goal is not to "get a degree in architecture." So even though he goes from high school into one of the most prestigious architectural schools, he takes only those classes that will teach him those skills he needs, backtracking only when he learns he may have missed something in an earlier class. He works on construction sites in the summer, mastering the physicial strengths and characteristics of his chosen building materials, so that when he returns to class in the fall he can design with that knowledge in mind.
The conflict in the first chapter, if it can be called that, is between Roark and the dean of the school, who is in the process of expelling Roark. Roark is insubordinate and will not take the classes deemed necessary by tradition. Roark is calm and eager to have the interview done with, because his goals and the schools have gone orthagonal, and he wants to move on.
I don't find it hard to believe that Roark would have trouble finding a job in architecture without a degree, especially not in the 1920s. That's probably the crux of the rset of the book. What I do find hard to believe is that the dean would go so far as to label Roark "dangerous" and "possibly criminal" for having the characteristic constellation of brilliance, self-assuredness, and self-containment in the face of the pressure of Tradition. The dean is way too much of a mouthpiece for a "the world is a hivemind, and only the heroes escape" subtext for the book to be a pleasure to read. While I can understand the mindset, the writer's axe grinds loudly when it could have whispered subtly.
The one thing that impresses me most is that Roark, the hero of the story, is clearly an edupunk. His goal is to become an architect, and to see his impressive personal visions cast into steel, concrete, wood and stone. In this sense, he is like any other visionary architect. But his goal is not to "get a degree in architecture." So even though he goes from high school into one of the most prestigious architectural schools, he takes only those classes that will teach him those skills he needs, backtracking only when he learns he may have missed something in an earlier class. He works on construction sites in the summer, mastering the physicial strengths and characteristics of his chosen building materials, so that when he returns to class in the fall he can design with that knowledge in mind.
The conflict in the first chapter, if it can be called that, is between Roark and the dean of the school, who is in the process of expelling Roark. Roark is insubordinate and will not take the classes deemed necessary by tradition. Roark is calm and eager to have the interview done with, because his goals and the schools have gone orthagonal, and he wants to move on.
I don't find it hard to believe that Roark would have trouble finding a job in architecture without a degree, especially not in the 1920s. That's probably the crux of the rset of the book. What I do find hard to believe is that the dean would go so far as to label Roark "dangerous" and "possibly criminal" for having the characteristic constellation of brilliance, self-assuredness, and self-containment in the face of the pressure of Tradition. The dean is way too much of a mouthpiece for a "the world is a hivemind, and only the heroes escape" subtext for the book to be a pleasure to read. While I can understand the mindset, the writer's axe grinds loudly when it could have whispered subtly.