Phew. I’m glad that’s over. I could complain about the book’s excessive length or its questionable ending or the idealogical extremes it tries to pass off as characters, but you know what Mom said about not having anything nice to say. Instead, I’ll mention that Rand has stoked the flame of desire for achievement inside me that has been waning more than I would like to admit. For that, I’m glad I read this book. But don’t think I’m running out to buy a copy of The Fountainhead.