I was
talking with an older professor I met at a reception at the art school the
other month, and like I often do, I started talking about Ayn Rand and
Objectivism.
She then
told me that she’s read her novels in the past decade, and had gotten them
used.
The
first one she read, she said, was a copy of “The Fountainhead” that she got at
a charity used booksale.
The
binding had one single sharp crease, and the copy fell open to the rape scene.
At that,
another, very old and very small and very white in skin and hair painting
professor chimed in that back in the day, everyone read Ayn Rand for the sex
scenes, it was all anyone ever talked about her about.
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