Fahrenheit 451 is a dystopian novel written by Ray Bradbury - one of the genius of geniuses. It's set in the far off future although it still has a palpable connection to the 20th century. In real time, the book was written in the early 1950s, a time when the country was enamored with technological implications and steam railed by the inevitable breaking of the civil rights levee that had been maintained since the 19th century.
When this book was published in 1953, America was complacent after WWII and even a bit haughty believing that democracy was the new Manifest Destiny scorching its way across the globe. (This historical fact may be spurious, but it seemed right.) From here, Bradbury had a vision of the future - a future that would be the result of rather precarious decisions made by powerful people in order to appease an already appeased country. Before doting on the use of the word "appeased," remember that all that was needed in this country was an assurance of fair treatment. Equal rights. Civility between races that wasn't forced but cultivated by those who desired it.
But those precarious decisions were made in an attempt to appease the appeased because an appeased people is not truly appeased if the appeasement has the potential to be thwarted. So the government - over the subsequent decades of this book's publishing - enacted policies and swayed public opinion. All for the catharsis of comfort in believing that one's appeasement was by no means ephemeral. It was long-lasting. It was entrusted by the higher ups. It was established and maintained by the government.
But years before the government's meddling (and manipulation) in people's happiness, Bradbury had played augurer and released his novel about the future. A future that involved - to what may be considered unexpected - the burning of books.
Guy Montag is you. He's me. He's your neighbor and your brother. Guy's the guy that is of this world yet has an active consciousness and conscience that is seemingly absent in those surrounding him. Montag is a fireman, but he's not putting out fires. He's starting them.
He's part of a government program to eliminate all books written in the past.
Why would those books need to be burned?
Well, when Montag asked his boss about it, the reason was simple:
Books contained information that may or may not be deemed offensive. A minority may find him or herself emotionally disturbed by the contents of a book, which would ruin his feint of appeasement. His contentment. His happiness. Because happiness is all that the citizens are wanting, so the government provided the best happiness they could give: the fake kind.
So books are burned because they're offensive. But that's not all.
They're long.
The main points of books worth reading can be - according to Montag's boss - summarized into one or two sentences. So the pertinent information was condensed into a few smaller books, which to the thinking man would just be a book of platitudes. But not in Bradbury's future. Philosophy was made easy; history made relevant.
But that wasn't all. Besides being long, books are bewildering. They have one bit of information in one book and a second bit in another. One professor proclaims one truth and another proclaims that truth as false. So in order to clear up the convoluted material from the library, books were burned.
Why have two views when you can have one?
But Bradbury goes even further. The idea of a government forcing a people to think one way was a bit too atavistic for his taste. Bradbury depicts the future as a time when people don't think as thinking ruins that sacred happiness the government has graciously handed us.
This book is all too relevant to today. It was written in 1953. During that time, microwaves were the hottest technology in the home. Televisions were sparse and channels limited. The United States was just beginning to truly move from relying on an agrarian culture for its food; the industrialization of food had just gotten going.
Yet, Bradbury's foresight was spot on. Our nation is divided, and it's not because there's a dualistic approach to American politics. It's the same platform. Big government Republicans and big government Democrats. We're in the stage of one thought prevails, but an astute observer would see that we're headed for the final stage of no thought.
In Fahrenheit 451, Montag's wife Mildred is obsessed with something called a Parlor Wall. This "wall" is actually a giant TV screen, and four walls in a room can actually have different Parlor Walls. These walls don't really have television programs; it's much more like an interactive game show that puts people in situations that they're familiar with. It's really an aggrandized Facebook. A social network where people who don't really know each other act like they know each other.
One of the more emotionally taxing lines of the book is when Montag asks his wife about the Parlor Wall people, "Do they love you?"
She can't answer as she thinks it's an absurd question. And it is. Just like if one were to ask you about (family excluded) Facebook "friends." Do they love you? Of course not.
Before my hypothesis is labelled hyperbolic, think about the multitude of people who are actually obsessed with Facebook. I know you know of them. As a teacher in a public high school, I know that our youth is addicted to social networking.
Facebook, Twitter, text messaging, Myspace - all are rooted in today's society.
American Idol, Food Network competitions, Reality TV shows, sports - all are littered with fast talking, fast moving commercials. And the content of the shows on television are inane. Without the fancy lights, loud shouts and musical interjections, one could even call them soporific. One's intellectual capacity is surely not overwhelmed when watching Jersey Shore, Dancing with the Stars, and Toddlers for Tiaras.
Some have argued that these shows are nothing but a mundane escape from the rigorous activities of the workday. The issue is that "a mundane escape" has become a perpetual chore. It's the place where people find their happiness, and their happiness is found when they don't have to think.
Think of the censorship in schools, movies, shows, books. Offended? Why, we can take care of that. We can burn the damn thing to the ground if it keeps you happy. And when you're happy, I can be happy. And everyone can be happy.
And everyone can place their ear buds in their ears and listen to the same regurgitated pop songs that generate revenue because people are at ease when they don't have to think. And pop songs certainly require no thought.
Bradbury, a real prophet of the Old Testament. And here we are, in 2012, staring at a culture devoid of a true identity yet held in bondage by the government of entertainment, the government of thought, and the government of happiness.
Obliged to you for hearing me.
Now Sojourner ain't got nothing more to say.
(TL;DR: Fahrenheit 451 reminds me of modern day. We're fucked like semen in a toilet bowl.)
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