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FROM NOVELIST TO PHILOSOPHER, 1944–1957
marriage. Although he seemed a passive adjunct to his more vibrant
wife, Hill saw Frank as Ayn’s rock, “the anchor to windward.” Frank’s
cool collection was a vital counterbalance to Rand’s uneven moods and
fi ery temperament. 24
To others Rand seemed to be chafi ng at the bonds of marriage. Jack
Bungay, an assistant to Hal Wallis, saw a sensuality in Rand that seemed
barely contained. “There was a lot of sex in her face,” he remembered,
“beautiful eyes, black hair and very beautiful lips, very prominent lips,
a lovely face, not especially big, but a beautiful smile.” Although she was
never fully comfortable with her looks, Rand had learned how to present
herself to best advantage. The Benzedrine helped her shed excess
weight, and she began wearing platform heels that boosted her height.
She stepped out in dramatic clothing by Adrian, a designer favored by
Hollywood stars. Rand enjoyed a close, fl irtatious rapport with her
boss Wallis, teasing and joking with him as they reviewed her scripts.
Bungay, who spent a few months lodging with the O’Connors when he
was between apartments, observed her fondness for a host of younger
men who sought her counsel. Most prominent among these was Albert
Mannheimer, an aspiring screenwriter whom Bungay believed to be
Rand’s heir after Frank. 25
Troubled and intense, Mannheimer was a frequent visitor to the
O’Connor household. He was reeling from the dramatic suicide of a
former girlfriend, who killed herself in his apartment after a heated
quarrel. Overcome by guilt at her death, Mannheimer clung to Rand’s
insistence that he bore no fault. The two grew noticeably close. She
nicknamed him “Fuzzy” and he brought her extravagant gifts, including
an enormous bottle of Chanel perfume. At times Mannheimer’s feelings
for her grew intense. “I love you Ayn, in a way I have never before
loved anyone and never shall again,” he told her in an impromptu letter
written after one of their visits. He groped for images to describe their
relationship, comparing her to the open country, the way a scientist
feels “having discovered something new; or a writer loves the feeling of
having created a beautiful phrase.” It was impossible to feel depressed
around her, he wrote, calling her “the ultimate in human beings I have
known.” Although she did not discourage such outpourings, Rand’s letters
to him were full of advice rather than suppressed passion. The two
eventually drifted apart in the early 1950s. 26
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