Jan 31, 2022
The Himboification of Guy Montag, 2021 Fahrenheit 451 is a banger fr
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The Himboification of Guy Montag, 2021 Fahrenheit 451 is a banger fr
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“The track that came out of the city and rusted across the land, through forest and woods deserted now, by the river” (Bradbury 138).
-Ray Bradbury
“’The folly of mistaking a metaphor for a proof, a torrent verbiage for a spring of capital truths, and oneself as an oracle, is inborn in us, Mr. Valery once said.’”
“No! shut up, you’re confusing things, stop it!”
-Ray Bradbury, 103.
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.
““I’ve tried to imagine,” said Montag,”just how it would feel. I mean, to have fireman burn our house and our books.”” - Guy Montag. -Ray Bradbury. pg.31.
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