One of my favorite fiction books has always been The Stranger by Albert Camus. When people asked why that book, my key response was that for me, it presents in beautifully unintentional detail, the hopelessness of a life lived outside of Christ; lacking direction and motivation. For me, that book epitomized the life of the lost. That is, until I recently read Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead.

As frighteningly directionless as Camus’ Meursault is, Rand’s Roark is disturbingly driven. But it’s what drives Roark that makes The Fountainhead such a study in the true depravity of the heart. In an introductory essay to the Centennial Edition of the book, Rand explains her position.

Summarizing her the pertinent philosophy behind The Fountainhead, Rand refers to the “sense of life dramatized in The Fountainhead as man-worship.” Rand warns “not to confuse ‘man-worship’ with the many attempts, not to emancipate morality from religion and bring it into the realm of reason, but to substitute a secular meaning for the worst, the most profoundly irrational elements of religion.” In other words, Rand was quite upset that the field of ethics had primarily been designated to religion, and she felt that man, in his glory, had no need for religion, mankind was his religion. So Rand set out to demonstrate that such “man worship” need not minimize ethics or morality.

I remember reading several years ago a Rolling Stone interview with publicity-grabber Brian Warner (Marilyn Manson). The reason I mention that interview here is because, at one point, Manson discusses his understanding and practice of Satanism. I cannot find the article, so I’ll have to paraphrase, but essentially, Manson argues that Satanism is not the worship of Satan, but the worship of man. What more powerful lie could there be?
More recently Beliefnet featured a Manson interview in which he states:

A lot of people like to pass me off as a devil worshipper. I think that could only be true if I considered myself to be the devil, because I tend to be narcissistic and believe in my own strength and my own identity. I find God to be what exists in what you create. I make music. I think that that’s coming in touch with God when I write a story, when I come up with a phrase or paint a picture, because that’s about creating. Art gives people a reason to be alive. It gives people something to believe in. I think art is the only thing that’s spiritual in the world. And I refuse to be forced to believe in other people’s interpretations of God. I don’t think anybody should be. There’s no one person that can own the copyright to what God means.

Compare that quote with a segment of Roark’s defense at the climactic trial towards the end of The Fountainhead:

No creator was prompted by a desire to serve his brothers, for his brothers rejected the gift he offered and that gift destroyed the slothful routine of their lives. His truth was his only motive. His own truth and his own work to achieve it in his own way. A symphony, a book, an engine, a philosophy, an airplane or a building - that was his goal and his life. Not those who hear, read, operated, believed, flew or inhabited the thing he had created. The creation, not its users. The creation, not the benefits others derived from it. The creation which gave form to his turth. He held his truth above all things and against all men.

Roark brings his (or should I say Rand’s) and Manson’s visions closer to one another, summarizing:

His vision, his strength, his courage came from his own spirit. A man’s spirit, however, is his self. That entity which is his consciousness. To think, to feel, to judge, to act are functions of the ego. The creators were not selfless. It is the whole secret of their power - that it was self-sufficient, self-motivated, self-generated. A first cause, a fount of energy, a life force, a Prime mover. The creator served nothing and no one. He lived for himself.

What makes Rand’s depravity so much more destructive than Camus’ is that Camus’ Meursault is directionless and for the most passive whereas Rand’s Roark feeds on his own pride. While Meursault certainly lacks morals, Roark defines his own, rejecting outside norms, setting himself up as the satndard. Roark is the true picture of the fallen man that lurks inside each of us. If you don’t think so, count the time’s you’ve had that little (or not so little) thought “they can’t tell me what to do!”

Scripture is clear that “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6, 1 Peter 5:5, etc.) and that “pride goes before destruction” (Proverbs 16:18). The true danger of pride is that it blinds the proud, but the true danger of Rand’s vision is that it glories in pride, a temptation to which we could all fall. Hers is the sin from which it is difficult to return because it rejects any notions but its own. Hers is the place right where Satan wants us and where the human heart wanders all too willingly.

Art, whether it be music, visual, or literature, shines a spotlight on the human soul, reminding of the restraining grace of God. May we learn from Camus, Rand and their spotlights. May we learn from them and be spared their pain.

• Read The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand.
• Read Wikipedia’s entry on Ayn Rand.
• Read Wikipedia’s entry on Frank Lloyd Wright, who is said to have been Rand’s model for Howard Roark.
• Read Beliefnet’s interview with Marilyn Manson in which he discusses many of his views concerning religion.
• Read Wikipedia’s entry concerning Albert Camus.
• Read The Stranger by Albert Camus.