Howard Roark and Dominique Francon feel an immediate connection when they meet because they both recognize and appreciate integrity. However, their relationship is initially flawed because Dominique is deeply affected by the world’s injustices toward Roark, and she must grow as a character to be less concerned about the world before they can be happy together. Whereas Rand holds up Roark and Dominique’s relationship as the ideal, the relationship between Peter Keating (a scheming architect without a moral center) and Catherine Halsey (a social worker who tries to lead a completely selfless life) demonstrates that love cannot work when people lack self-respect and respect for one another. Through these contrasting portrayals of relationships, Rand suggests that love between two people is imperfect unless both of them have a strong sense of self and a core of inner happiness that is immune to the influence of the world. In other words, a successful relationship needs to be based on selfishness, as exemplified by Roark.
While Roark loves Dominique, he always puts his own happiness over hers. He is never insecure about her feelings for him and as a result is never hurt or bitter, even when she acts against his interests. After they have sex for the first time, Roark feels as much happiness when he thinks of Dominique as he does when he is building—they both call up the same “quality of reaction within him.” Roark is passionately in love with building, so Dominique is clearly very important to him. However, when he gets a new commission, he leaves for the city immediately to begin work on it. While Dominique seems “distant and unimportant” to him at this moment, he is “astonished to know that he still thought of her, even now.” The root of Roark’s happiness is his pride in his work, and Dominique is always secondary to that. As he tells her later, to “say ‘I love you’ one must first know how to say the ‘I.’”
Dominique despises the world, which she sees as small-minded and cruel. She feels Roark’s excellent buildings have no place in it, so she sets about criticizing his work publicly while praising the work of Peter Keating, who she believes is a mediocre architect and a detestable person. Roark finds this amusing because he understands her motivations. When Dominique marries Keating, Roark is hurt, yet tells her he won’t ask her to annul the marriage because she must have the freedom to do as she chooses. He says she “must learn not to be afraid of the world,” and that while she is battling for her freedom from it, he will wait for her. Afterward, he misses her deeply but feels no rancor for her.
Like Roark, Dominique values talent and integrity. But unlike him, she is still hurt by the world’s opinions and influence. It is only when she learns to shrug off the crowd, untouched by its mediocrity and pettiness, that she is free to be truly happy with herself and in her relationship with Roark. Before she meets Roark, Dominique refuses to engage deeply with the world around her. She tells her boss at the newspaper that she is glad that she doesn’t care about her job because if she “found a job, a project, an idea or a person [she] wanted,” she’d have to “depend on the whole world”—and this scares her, because she doesn’t want to have anything to do with “mankind in general.” After being with Roark, she desires him deeply and she doesn’t feel free any longer from the crowds on the street, “[whose] fear mak[es] them ready to pounce upon whatever [is] held sacred by any single one they [meet].” While Roark is completely indifferent to people around him, Dominique is afraid of the power they wield.
Later, Dominique feels angry on Roark’s behalf when his work is met with sneers and she is incredulous that he is not hurt by the world’s reaction to his buildings. She marries her second husband, Gail Wynand, believing him to be even worse than Peter Keating, in an attempt to justify her hatred of the world. When she tells Roark about this, he gestures to the world around them and tells her that the two of them can never be together until she “stop[s] hating all this, stop[s] being afraid of it, learn[s] not to notice it.” Much later, Dominique witnesses Roark blowing up the Cortlandt building because its design was changed without his approval, and in the boldness of this gesture, she suddenly finds her own freedom from the world’s opinions. She realizes that “[the world] own[s] nothing. They’ve never won.” Only by becoming truly selfish and embodying the same self-assured independence as Roark does Dominique become the perfect romantic partner for him.
In contrast to Roark and Dominique’s relationship is the one between Keating and Catherine, which is doomed to fail because neither of these characters has a sense of self. While they initially feel genuine affection for one another, Keating’s love for Catherine loses out to his desire to please the world around him—he ends up marrying Dominique Francon because she is richer and more beautiful. As a result of constantly working to live up to external expectations, Keating is unclear about what he wants. Catherine, on the other hand, tries to love Keating selflessly. Since she believes that it is “evil to be selfish,” she tries “never to demand anything” for herself, even when Keating disappears on her for months at a time. When he runs into her many years after their relationship ended, she tells him she is glad they didn’t get married because marriage is “too selfish and narrow.” While she confesses having felt hurt all those years ago when Keating married Dominique, she adds that “everybody goes through [relationship problems], like measles,” and that her emotions are “just like everybody’s emotions.” Keating feels that she has “no consciousness of her own person”—she has been so selfless that she has no self.
Keating is so focused on external validation that he doesn’t know who he is or what he wants, while Catherine has erased her identity by constantly denying her desires. Since neither of them has a sense of self, they wouldn’t be able to successfully relate to anyone else with any depth or meaningfulness. In contrast, by selfishly focusing on building a strong core of personal happiness that is immune to the world around them, Roark and Dominique are able to find happiness in each other.
Love and Selfishness ThemeTracker
Love and Selfishness Quotes in The Fountainhead
“If I found a job, a project, an idea or a person I wanted—I’d have to depend on the whole world. Everything has strings leading to everything else. We’re all so tied together. We’re all in a net, the net is waiting, and we’re pushed into it by a single desire. You want a thing and it’s precious to you. Do you know who is standing ready to tear it out of your hands? You can’t know, it may be so involved and so far away, but someone is ready, and you’re afraid of them all. And you cringe and crawl and you beg and you accept them—just so they’ll let you keep it. And look at whom you come to accept.”
Roark awakened in the morning and thought that last night had been like a point reached, like a stop in the movement of his life. He was moving forward for the sake of such stops; like the moments when he had walked through the half-finished Heller house; like last night. In some unstated way, last night had been what building was to him; in some quality of reaction within him, in what it gave to his consciousness of existence.
“You know I hate you, Roark. I hate you for what you are, for wanting you, for having to want you. I’m going to fight you—and I’m going to destroy you […]. I’m going to pray that you can’t be destroyed—I tell you this, too—even though I believe in nothing and have nothing to pray to. But I will fight to block every step you take. I will fight to tear every chance you want away from you. I will hurt you through the only thing that can hurt you—through your work. I will fight to starve you, to strangle you on the things you won’t be able to reach. I have done it to you today—and that is why I shall sleep with you tonight.”
“And what, incidentally, do you think integrity is? The ability not to pick a watch out of your neighbor’s pocket? No, it’s not as easy as that. If that were all, I’d say ninety-five percent of humanity were honest, upright men. Only, as you can see, they aren’t. Integrity is the ability to stand by an idea. That presupposes the ability to think. Thinking is something one doesn’t borrow or pawn. And yet, if I were asked to choose a symbol for humanity as we know it, I wouldn’t choose a cross nor an eagle nor a lion and unicorn. I’d choose three gilded balls.”
“Don’t you see what it is that I must understand? Why is it that I set out honestly to do what I thought was right and it’s making me rotten? I think it’s probably because I’m vicious by nature and incapable of leading a good life. That seems to be the only explanation. But…but sometimes I think it doesn’t make sense that a human being is completely sincere in good will and yet the good is not for him to achieve. I can’t be as rotten as that. But…but I’ve given up everything, I have no selfish desire left. I have nothing of my own—and I’m miserable. And so are the other women like me. And I don’t know a single selfless person in the world who’s happy—except you.”
“I love you, Dominique. As selfishly as the fact that I exist. As selfishly as my lungs breathe air. […] I’ve given you, not my sacrifice or my pity, but my ego and my naked need. This is the only way you can wish to be loved. This is the only way I can want you to love me. If you married me now, I would become your whole existence. But I would not want you then. You would not want yourself—and so you would not love me. To say ‘I love you’ one must know first how to say the ‘I’. The kind of surrender I could have from you now would give me nothing but an empty hulk. […] I want you whole, as I am, as you’ll remain in the battle you’ve chosen.”
“You’re not here, Dominique. You’re not alive. Where’s your I?”
“Where’s yours, Peter?” she asked quietly.
He sat still, his eyes wide. […]
“You’re beginning to see, aren’t you, Peter? Shall I make it clearer. You’ve never wanted me to be real. You never wanted anyone to be. But you didn’t want to show it. You wanted an act to help your act—a beautiful, complicated act, all twists, trimmings and words. All words. […] You wanted a mirror. People want nothing but mirrors around them. To reflect them while they’re reflecting too. You know, like the senseless infinity you get from two mirrors facing each other across a narrow passage. […] Reflections of reflections and echoes of echoes.”
“The ‘common good’ of a collective –a race, a class, a state—was the claim and justification of every tyranny ever established over men. Every major horror of history was committed in the name of an altruistic motive. […]
“Now observe the results of a society built on the principle of individualism. This, our country. The noblest country in the history of men. The country of greatest achievement, greatest prosperity, greatest freedom. This country was not based on selfless service, sacrifice, renunciation or any precept of altruism. It was based on man’s right to the pursuit of happiness. His own happiness. Not anyone else’s.”