Just the Shapes, Ma'am

Hey, someone set my favorite passage from The Fountainhead to music:

I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of the New York skyline. Particularly when one can't see the details. Just the shapes. The shapes and the thought that made them. The sky over New York and the will of man made visible. What other religion do we need? And then people tell me about pilgrimages to some dank pesthole in the jungle where they go to pay homage to a crumbling stone temple, to a leering stone monster with a pot belly created by some leprous savage. Is it beauty and genius they're longing to see? Are they seeking a sense of the sublime? Let them come to New York, stand on the shore of the Hudson, look and kneel.

I sure share that sentiment:

...Twin Towers and loved them as if I'd built them myself. At sunset I would take the elevator to the South Tower observation deck and look out at the ocean, at the city, and plan my future. I was a struggling young writer, and I had adopted those buildings as my proof that achievement was possible. I loved their grandeur, their ambition, their promise of unlimited possibilities.

I watched them come crashing down. And I've grieved their greatness ever since.

If only they had had better fireproofing…

But is it art? Surely, anybody creating Rand-inspired works will have to stand for that question, given Rand's harsh treatment of what she (often correctly) identified as non-art.

As user nine9s commented, "The words are barely intelligible, and the music doesn't seem to fit the lyrics — the lyrics are hard and clear, while the music is wistful and sentimental."

I don't know much about classical music, but I'd tend to agree. Anyway, it's the thought that counts.