First Place

George Singer, Enid High School, Enid, OK

Explain the relationship between Peter Keating and Ellsworth Toohey. Does either character need the other? If so, in what way(s)? How does their relationship differ from that between Howard Roark and his friends. How do these issues relate to the theme of The Fountainhead?

Sacrifice, surrender, and submission. When it comes to relationships, these are the values that society teaches us to follow as our moral guideline. Ironically, a relationship built upon this kind of foundation is as deadly to a man’s spiritual health as a dose of cyanide is to his physical. For a healthy relationship, man must first free himself from all sources of dependence and acquire a sense of self. To acquire a sense of identity, a practical man must live with reason as his only moral guideline, yet since man can only reason by using his own mind and his own faculties, living morally presupposes that one acts independently from the influence of others. A logical relationship is thus not one of sacrifice, surrender, or submission, but one of voluntary association, fair exchange, and mutual respect. By contrasting Peter Keating and Ellsworth Toohey’s relationship of dependence with Howard Roark’s relationships of independence, Ayn Rand conveys the moral necessity of living one’s life autonomously.

Peter Keating, introduced to us in a “hall packed with bodies and faces,” is a man whose identity rests not within himself, but within the masses of those around him (15). At the beginning of the novel, Keating is portrayed as the “star student” of Stanton Institute of Technology’s graduation (16). Although he is being recognized at a school for aspiring architects, Keating’s primary accomplishments lie in his social prowess: “He was Peter Keating…president of the student body, captain of the track team, member of the most important fraternity, voted the most popular man on the campus” (16). In spite of his perceived status of accomplishment, in reality, Keating can hardly remember any of his architectural work at Stanton. Creating nothing of his own and borrowing completely from the creativity of those before him, Keating skirts through his entire architectural career pleasing and manipulating those who can help him move up the social ladder. In practice, he feels nothing internally but “the consciousness of those centered glances” around him (16). Everything in Keating’s life is a comparison between him and other men. While at Stanton's graduation, for example, he thinks of Shlinker, who had given him “stiff competition” during his years past, but who “could never hope to equal his own appearance or ability” (16). His projects, architecture, and achievements are merely the means to an indefinable end: prestige over others. He is a man devoid of an inner purpose, an inner identity, an inner soul.

Once, when he was younger, Keating had both the passion and the potential to be a painter, but he decided not to pursue it on account of his mother’s concern that architecture was a much more “respectable profession” (19). Valuing the judgment of others over his own, Keating submits himself to the valueless vacuum of prestige, which ultimately dooms him from ever feeling content. Happiness, as Ayn Rand establishes through Howard Roark, is only the product of achieving one’s values, but because Peter Keating doesn’t have any values, he is incapable of being truly happy; instead, Keating willingly wanders around in self-imposed darkness, searching for the assurances of others. By sacrificing his values, surrendering his identity, and submitting his will, Keating grounds all of his relationships by the conventional standards of the day. It is in this empty nature he comes to seek Ellsworth Toohey as a source of virtue and support.

Ellsworth Toohey, introduced to the readers as a self-proclaimed “humanitarian,” is every bit as selfless as Peter Keating, but not nearly as weak (319). Absent the dignity of holding a productive job, Toohey is a dilettante critic who dabbles in many fields, particularly architecture. Renouncing religion at age sixteen as “overemphasiz[ing] the importance of the individual spirit,” Toohey devotes his career to preaching socialism, a message which he says means “man must be willing to take the foulest crimes upon his soul for the sake of his brothers” (312). By preaching socialism, Ellsworth Toohey devotes his life to denying himself the ownership of his own soul, finding pleasure instead in collecting the souls of others. He understands that in order for him to conquer a man’s soul, his victim must first become a willing accomplice. He says if he can “[m]ake man feel small… [m]ake him feel guilty… [k]ill his aspiration and his integrity,” then he’s on his way to smashing him. (677). “You won’t need a whip,” Toohey explains, “he’ll bring it to you and ask to be whipped” (677).

Keating, like all of Toohey’s other victims, is led to believe that sacrificing his values and happiness to people like Toohey is virtuous and moral. In reality, it is his surrender of his identity that makes him immoral and empty. Frequently throughout his life, Keating latches onto Toohey whenever he is feeling spiritually drained (such as after one of his buildings is erected). He tells Toohey how unhappy he is and expects instructive answers; instead, Toohey glorifies his spiritual drain as virtuous and correct. Keating thus feels very important in front of Toohey, and since feeling important in front of others is all Keating desires, he is dependent on Toohey as a source of spiritual energy.

In his self-proclaimed battle for “power,” Toohey knows that, “[i]f you learn how to rule one single man’s soul, you can get the rest of mankind” (677). Ironically, Toohey has no soul himself. He is just as dependent on stealing the identities of others as Keating is on taking the values of others. He even admits this to Keating later in the book. “I’m the most selfless man you’ve ever known,” he says (681). “I have less independence than you, whom I just forced to sell your soul” (681). Thus, the relationship between Toohey and Keating is one of total dependency. Through Keating, Toohey feeds his hunger for power. Through Toohey, Keating feeds his desire to feel virtuous. Left alone and independent, these men amount to absolutely nothing.

Standing “naked at the edge of a cliff,” Howard Roark is introduced as a man whose independence is completely pure (1). Using reason as his moral compass through all his life, Howard Roark is the ideal man. He chooses to live as an independent architect who struggles to erect structures, not as copies of the buildings before him, but as works of his own mind’s integrity. Just as his architecture is guided solely by reason, so too are his relationships. Roark understands that rational men can only live and interact autonomously. They cannot subjugate their choices to the whims of others (like Keating), nor can they knowingly fight reason in defiance of those who wish to live independently (like Toohey). Thus, when Roark associates himself other individuals, he doesn’t do so to acquire energy, confidence, or power, he does so out of his mutual respect for their talents, accomplishments, and independence. As he explains himself, a moral man “does not exist for any other man and he asks no other man to exist for him,” for, “[t]his is the only form of brotherhood and mutual respect possible” (728).

Howard Roark associates with Steven Mallory, for example, out of his admiration for his sculptures. Mallory molds figures of men, much like Roark molds his buildings, “not [of] what men are, but [of] what men could be—and should be” (343). Roark even gives Mallory sufficient amounts of charity, enough to pay his rent and eat, for his mere assurance that Mallory will be able to work without others telling him how to. To Roark, he is not doing this out of altruism, but “simply buying the most valuable thing that can be bought [Mallory’s] time” (407).

Roark associates himself with Mike out of his admiration for his competence in building. Although Mike is not as brilliant as Howard Roark, he chooses to utilize his abilities for his own productive cause construction. Roark and Mike share an equal love for their abilities to produce great works from their efforts. In nearly every building Roark builds, Mike is there to help erect them, extracting his own joy out of Roark’s genius. Roark acknowledges Mike’s competence in construction and chooses to befriend him out of mutual respect.

Roark associates himself with Dominique Francon out of his love for her ego and femininity. Spiritually and physically, Dominique offers Roark the most precious thing she has: her selfish desire to be with him. Dominique Francon admires Roark not for his social connections or prestige, but for his masculine confidence in his ability to live healthily as a human being with an identity. Their relationship is one of sexual attraction, but contrary to Dominique’s evolution throughout the novel, at no time is Roark sacrificing himself, his work, or his values to her. As Roark remarks to Dominique, “[t]o say ’I love you’ one must know first how to say the ’I’” (395).

Whether it is Roark’s appreciation for the productive genius of Mallory, or the satisfaction he derives from his sexual bond with Dominique, his relationships never operate under the conventional principles of sacrifice, surrender, or submission. Roark understands that “[in] all proper relationships there is no sacrifice of anyone to anyone” (728). Whether it is through Toohey’s pursuit of power or through Keating’s pursuit of prestige, “[t]he form of dependence does not matter” (728). Roark understands that his “choice is not self-sacrifice or domination,” but “independence or dependence” (727). Not only in relationships, but in every part of his life, he knows that if he wishes to live a rational, moral, and practical life, he must think, act, and produce as an independent man with an ego.

Works Cited (MLA Format)

Rand, Ayn. The Fountainhead. Norwalk: Easton Press, 1989.