Part 1, Chapter 2, Section 1

Henry Rearden, a tall and gaunt 45 year old man with ash-blond hair and prominent cheekbones, stands in his Rearden Steel mill watching the first heat for the first order of Rearden Metal (p 28). He walks home late that night with a Rearden Metal chain bracelet in his pocket (p 29); its links “heavy, crudely made” and the shining metal was “greenish-blue” (p 36). Rearden is both happy and lonely: “he never felt loneliness except when he was happy” (p 29). Rearden recollects the ten years spent developing Rearden Metal and the additional hours “snatched almost guiltily, as for a secret love” (p 30). These hour “melted and fused within him” to form their own allow that both made him smile and made him “wonder why happiness could hurt.”

Rearden pauses — “he despised memories as a pointless indulgence” — but then allows himself to reflect on is life due to the personal magnitude of the evening (p 30). He reflects on his life from his first day of work at an iron mine, through his acquisition of multiple mines, to today, when the first heat for the first order of Rearden Metal was poured (p 30-31). He looks back to see the sign Rearden Steel, then thinks of Rearden Ore, Rearden Coal and Rearden Limestone before wishing “it were possible to light a sign over all of them, saying: Rearden Life” (p 32). Rearden next laments his wife, who he briefly doubts will understand how happy he is. “Happiness was the greatest agent of purification.” He thought people “were as hungry for a sight of joy as he had always been,” a respite from the “inexplicable and unnecessary” burden of suffering.

Upon entering his ugly house with the “cheerless look of a nudity not worth revealing,” Rearden encounters his wife Lillian, brother Philip, Mother and family friend Paul Larkin. His family makes sarcastic remarks about his tardiness and being too busy for them (p 32-33). What follows is a series of attacks on Rearden by his family, with his wife first to start; Rearden responds to each provocation differently in order to remain calm. Rearden greets Paul, who “was smiling in gratitude for the attention” and, curious why Paul is there, asks him if he is in trouble (p 33). Lillian interrupts, “Do you believe that nobody can want to see you just for your own sake, or do you believe that nobody can get along without your help?” Rearden wants to “utter an angry denial,” but Lillian’s smile leads him to assume she had merely made “a conservational joke” of the type “he had no capacity for”. “He stood looking at her, wondering about the things he had never been able to understand.”

Rearden’s brother is next to attack him (p 34). His mother’s true disposition is revealed after Rearden declines her offer to ring for his dinner (p 33). Without looking at Rearden — “only reciting words into space” — she says, “That’s the trouble I’ve always had with you. … It’s no use trying to do things for you, you don’t appreciate it.” Philip chimes in, “Henry, you work too hard … It’s not good for you.” Rearden laughs and responds, “I like it.” Philip continues nonplussed, “It’s a form of neurosis … when a man drowns himself in his work, it’s because he’s trying to escape from something. You ought to have a hobby.” Rearden irritatedly shouts For Christ’s sake! but Philip unabatedly proceeds, “You’ll become dull and narrow. Single-tracked, you know. … You don’t want to miss life … .” Rearden fights his anger by telling himself, “This is Philip’s form of solicitude … it would be unjust to feel resentment.” Rearden has now quelled his anger, and next shuts his resentment by thinking that his family is just “trying to show their concern for him–and he wished these were not the things they had chosen for concern.” Rearden smiled and made a futile response, “I had a pretty good time today, Phil” (p 34). Rearden desperately wishes somebody would ask what made his day good. “The sight of the running metal” fills his consciousness, making it “hard to concentrate.”

Rearden’s mother decides to make her own blow at him (p 34). His tardiness had caused him to miss a visit by one of his mother’s friends that evening. Mother remarks, “You might have apologized, only I ought to know better than to expect it.” She had the “injured look” of the “defenseless” and continued, “You never remember anything I say.” Rearden uses “the whole of the sense of his consideration” to evenly answer, “I’m sorry if I disappointed you, Mother.” Like his early response to Philip, this is useless and Mother continues, “You’re not sorry. … But when did you ever make an effort for anybody but yourself? … You think that if you pay the bills, that’s enough, don’t you? … All you give us money. Have you ever given us any time?” (p 34-35) Rearden remains stoic by rationalizing: “if this meant that she missed him … then it meant affection” and he was unjust to let his voice betray his disgust (p 35). “Half-spitting, half-begging,” Mother continues that Lillian needed Rearden today, “but I told her it was no use waiting” (p 35).

Now that each family member has had a chance to claw Rearden, Lillian attempts to entrap him (p 35). Speaking “too lightly and too purposefully at once, her smile overstressing an air of innocence and suggesting … a hidden trump card,” she uses an “apologetic” and “boastful” tone to mention that she wants an appointment with Rearden for a party of hers. She offers he choose the date — she suggests December 10^th — but clarifies that her event is unimportant because “it’s purely non-commercial.” Rearden states his indifference to the date, prompting Lillian to respond that the tenth is their wedding anniversary. Rearden recalls “his feeling for her was her only weapon” and that this must be “a proudly indirect attempt to test his feelings and to confess her own” (p 35-36). He knew that a party was “the best tribute she could offer” and felt that “he had to respect her intentions … even if he did not share he stardards” and even if he did not know whether he still wanted a tribute from her (p 36). “He had to let her win, he thought, because she had thrown herself upon his mercy.” Rearden acknowledges her victory and agrees to attend on December 10^th.

Rearden thinks to himself “words were a lens to focus one’s mind” and only Rearden Metal was on his mind (p 36). He states, “today at the mills we poured the first heat of Rearden Metal.” Silence ensues; Philip remarks that’s nice; the others remain quiet. Rearden drops the metal chain bracelet in Lillian’s lap as a “returning crusader offering his trophy to his love.” He states, “I brought you a present … it’s the first thing made from the first head of the first order of Rearden Metal.” She decries the bracelet’s monetary worthlessness and sarcastically remarks it will make her the “sensation of New York.” Philip tells Henry, “You’re conceited” Mother tells Henry, “Plain selfishness. … It’s got to be more precious than diamonds to everybody, just because it’s he that made it. … He’s been that way since he was five … I knew he’d grow up to be the most selfish creature on God’s earth” (p 36-37). Lillian remarks “it isn’t the gift, it’s the intention, I know … it’s sweet … it’s charming” and thanks Rearden while kissing his cheek (p 36-37).

Exhausted, Rearden sits by the fire and ponders his family’s behavior (p 37).

Rearden asks himself a question: “What did they seek from him?” (p 37)

Reardens answers his own question: his “response” is what they wanted (p 37).

Rearden asks himself another question — “did he like them?” — and quickly answers his own thoughts (p 38).

Rearden begins to nod off from boredom when Paul Larkin leans over to have “a private conversation” (p 38). After complimenting Rearden Metal — “a great product” — Larkin mentions, “I just hope you don’t run into trouble.” Rearden has to ask twice “What trouble?” before Larkin begins to describe Rearden’s “intractable” and “anti-social” reputation, as well as his “bad press” that is “not good” (p 38-39). Rearden dismisses all this with a definitive “I don’t give a damn what they think” and Larkin offers bromides (“one has to be so careful”; “I’m your friend, Hank”) before asking, “How is your man in Washington?” (p 39). Rearden responds that his lobbyist is, “Okay, I guess.” Larkin responds “with a kind of stressed insistence, as if discharging a painful moral duty, “Hank, it’s very important. … In fact, that’s what I cam here to tell you” (p 40). Rearden asks if there is “Any special reason?” and Larkin, deciding “that the duty was discharged” merely states, “No.” Rearden comments that lobbyists are “such a crummy lot” and Larkin looks away; Rearden continues his critique, causing Larking to shrug sadly and ask, “Who is John Galt?” Rearden sits up straight and responds, “No. There’s no reason to feel that way.”

Rearden gets up to pace the room and rationalizes his family life. “It was he who had to make himself learn to understand them, since he had so much to give, since they could never share his sense of joyous, boundless power.” Rearden decides to give his brother attention remarks to Philip, “You look done in.” Philip “sullenly” responds, “I’ve had a hard day.” Mother seizes the chance to berate Rearden, “You’re not the only one who works hard.” Rearden responds, “Why, that’s good. … Phil should fine some interest of his own” (p 41). Mother refuses to relent, “You like to see your brother sweating his health away? It amuses you, doesn’t it?” Rearden remarks that he would like to help. Mother continues, “You don’t have to help. You don’t have to feel anything for any of us.”

Rearden remains patient despite Mother, only to be faced by Philip’s discontent as well (p 41). After Rearden asks Philip “what were you doing today” and then reassures him “it does interest me,” Philip describes his frustration. “[Friends of Global Progress needs] ten thousand dollars for a vital program, but it’s a martyr’s task, tying to raise money. When I think of the kind of bloated money-bags I saw today … I couldn’t squeeze just a hundred bucks out of them, which was all I asked. they have no sense of moral duty, no–” Philip is interrupted by Rearden’s laughter, a reaction to the “childishly blatant” and “helplessly crude” combination of “the hint and the insult, offered together.” Rearden thinks to himself “the poor fool knows he’s at my mercy” and thus doesn’t need to bother “returning an insult.” Rearden wonders, “What sort of misery does he really live in, to get himself twisted quite so badly?”

Rearden attempts to give Philip happiness but is dispirited by the emotionless response (p 42). Offering Philip “the unexpected gratification of a hopeless desire,” Rearden states that a $10,000 check will be waiting for Philip the following day. Philip emotionlessly responds that “we’ll appreciate it very much.” Rearden feels within himself a “leaden, “gray” and “ugly” disappointment. Each family member makes a passive derogatory remark: Philip says “I didn’t expect it of you”; Lillian retorts “Henry’s poured his metal today” and asks if it ought be a national holiday; and Mother adds that Rearden is “a good man … but not often enough.” Philip asks whether Rearden whether he really cares about Friends of Global Progess’ mission, to which Rearden responds, “No … I only want you to be happy.” Philip states, “But that money is not for me. … I have no selfish interest in the matter whatsoever.” Rearden feels “a sudden loathing” because the words Philip meant his words.

Philip gives Rearden a last direct insult before Rearden walks away. Philip asks to have the $10,000 in cash because, “Friends of Global Progress are a very progressive group and they have always maintained that you represent the blackest element of social retrogression in the country, so it would embarrass us … .” Rearden wants to slap Philip, but instead agrees to pay cash (p 42-43). Larkin yells that Rearden should not have given the money, but Lillian disagrees, “What would happen to Henry’s vanity if he didn’t have us to throw alms to? What would become of his strength if he didn’t have weaker people to dominate? What would he do with himself if he didn’t keep us around as dependents? It’s quite all right, really, I’m not criticizing him, it’s just a law of human nature.” (p 43) Then Lillian adds, “He holds us all in bondage.”