Philosophical novels are a quest upstream; leave aside the task of pulling them off correctly. Improbable still, to do an original motif. That is why, I will be lenient on my critic of Rand’s borrowed ideas from let’s say – Dostoevsky. If you have read “Crime and Punishment,” the superimposition isn’t mistakable!

That, that with the subtle irritations of the plot’s unfolding. Some events were totally unwarranted – and vain to some sense. Yet, artistic license was exercised in those instances, hence, one glosses over them in the hope the author would make up for them further down on the read. Which she did, with those verbose dialogues that often seemed like monologues. An example would be as those between Howard Roark and his `friend` Gail Wynand. Two faces on the same coin; which forged their brief alliance.

Those two remarks, above – will serve as my dissatisfied commentary of the work.
Preceding now to iterate my delight of her work. Which often, bewildered me with the emotionless exactitude its truths reigned. For instance, the magna opus work of Dostoevsky, “the Brothers Karamazov,” is heavily laden with emotional sentiments, which usually tag at readers’ heartstrings to compel them to finish it. Yet, Rand – forsakes that notion of feeling, and dwells on almost barren a book devoid of such arousals. Its, is of the mind, not the heart.

Ayn labored hard to project different worldviews to balance out arguments from various perspectives. On that premise, she did make a strong case for the individual. The creator, the sole virtue which society ever erects its greatness on. Selfishness of soul, purpose and single-mindedness to one’s mission in life. To which one mustn’t be a martyr but a brave champion to face those mortal enemies of second-handedness: – over others’ works! Shy away from imitations. If your originality dooms you in the here and now; be glad your sorrows aren’t those of living for your neighbors’ acclaims and praise. Resist the urge to conform in short.