May 24, 2020
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Bryan RodrĂguez ft. Dianak ~ CrĂ©eme |cover| [Colombia]
More Bryan
“But now I only hear...”
“The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore…” (Bradbury 96).
Dover Beach is about the loss of stability in life: joy, hope, faith, and love are gone. There is nothing left besides unhappiness of the couple on the Dover Beach in Kent. The couple is doomed, just like Montag and Mildred. Their sea is not calm anymore: there is a storm coming to alienate their barely sailing ship. Their hostility towards each other makes them miserable. The roar of the waves and the pebbles grow as the Mildred and Montag grow apart: it represents their love’s vanishing moments.
When Montag reads the Dover Beach, he makes Ms. Phelps cry and she blames it on the poetry, but what if she realized how miserable she actually was? The poem represents their dystopian society and its outcome: there are husbands that blow out their brains, women that abort about dozen times, and children who hate their parents. Montag is represented in the poem,
“Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain.”
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night”. (Bradbury 96-97).
His only escape is by night when he has Faber reading in his ear and a book under his pillow. He is consumed and perplexed by the knowledge that has been presented to him and now he is looking for a way to spread it. Hopefully, people will see that poems are not the ones hurting them: it is their own ignorance that is killing the emotions.
Lies he speaks.
He was right: I needed to be more careful. I am no longer the young and foolish Guy Montag: Faber made sure of it. He was my mentor now and there was no going back. With his help, we could change everything, stop the war and educate people. It’s a long run but it would be worth it.  His words, drop by drop, fill my thirsty glass. I will never be completely full. I’ve known this man before from somewhere, like I’ve known him my whole boring life. That life was coming back to me. It was waiting.
I let him see and hear what Beatty had to say, how he controlled me. There was no way back to my old life. His voice in the earpiece guided me through the clouds of judgment and devilish words from Beatty. His voice was like a ray of sunlight in the stormy sky, “Montag, hold on!” The moth brushed [my] ear. “He’s muddying the waters!” (Bradbury 104). He was right of course: the Devil himself was against me.
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The Hearth and the Salamander: Last breath of Curiosity(Part2)
“”Where do we begin?” He opened the book halfway and peered at it. “We begin by beginning I guess.”” - (Bradbury 65).
I inhale the smell of books.
They’re in my hands, not burning. The pages are soft and tactile: it tickles to touch them. I want to open the cover and see what’s inside. Something bubbles inside my chest. Is this what happiness feels like? When it burns like fire and you want it to continue burning your chest? If Clarisse would have asked me now if I was happy, I could say I am. Oh Clarisse. If she were here, I would have shared this moment with her. It’s a revelation. Kept so long in the dark I am finally shedding some light on the beauty of words. They call it nonsense; I call it beauty.
I tried to explain to Millie what it means, but she was too fearful of the consequence to listen to me. Listen. She never did. There is no escape now. I never want to hear the noise, only to see the letters and understand them. To see a history written on paper, the truth told by people long forgotten. Maybe erased from the history. The burning is getting stronger now. The urges awake. I want to know. I want to tell Clarisse. Â I want to find her, and I will. Speed the will. Bang! Bang!
The Hearth and the Salamander: Last Breath of Curiosity (Part1)
“”You can’t ever have my books,” she said.
“You know the law,” said Beatty. “Where’s your common sense? None of those books agree with each other. You’ve been locked up here for years with a regular damned Tower of Babel. Snap out of it! The people in those books never lived. Come on now!”  -(Bradbury 35)
I can’t understand why she would stay at the house. It’s just nonsense on paper, right? It doesn’t mean anything. Does it? It happened fast though. The match appeared in her hand and she lit herself up. For books. For the nonsense. Her words jiggled in my head. Radley. Master Radley. I feel the hard cover of the book in the inner pocket of my coat. Must hide it with the other books. It weights on me, so heavy, too heavy at times. I am a criminal and they will burn me, would they? And Mildred?
It’s quiet when I come home; she must be sleeping. Hide the book. Under the pillow, under my head. What will Beatty say? I feel suffocated. Maybe I should burn them now, while it’s not too late. I could save Mildred from the torture. Should I? Who is she anyways and where did we meet? She forgot who we were to each other. It made me forget. Perhaps the memories of her got erased from my mind. She’s a stranger now.  Wife: now that I think about it, she became something unreachable, too shallow for me to even care about. I feel sick now: I don’t want to leave the bed or the book will be discovered. I hear blank noises everywhere: they scream and cry nonsense. It’s the walls. If I miss work, would Beatty come to say something? I hear a car now: it’s Beatty. Whatever he says, it wouldn’t matter.