Fahreneit 451
Or is it "Celsius 232.7 repeater" by Bray Cackleberry
The title’s a nonsense. There is no one type of paper used in books and therefore no set temperature at which it will ignite. As a title, Fahrenheit 451 is gimmicky and sloppy. The same goes for the rest of the book.
There are some great novels warning of the dangers of social control, primary among them 1984, Brave New World and Animal Farm. These three works are all carefully worked out and beautifully written. There is an air of reality about this world of the future. As a result, the warnings the books contain therefore work.
But F-111, or whatever it’s called, is quite simply idiotic. There is nothing real about it at all. The author has taken one idea and not bothered to expand it one iota. It is a solitary mono-thought. The fireman’s job is to light fires, not extinguish them. There is a light attempt to weave a love story out of that idea. It fails abjectly. The people are robots. Who’s doing what to whom? Who cares?
How can works of literature be regarded as the sole repository of thought? The mind thinks. People discuss. Why then can the mere burning of books be expected to extinguish thought? It doesn’t.
What does the discovery of books depend on? Accidental discovery or dobbers. How inefficient in what we are supposed to believe is a highly efficient world. How are they destroyed? By fire. How hit-and-miss.
And yet in this hit-and-miss, accidental, inefficient world we are to believe that no one protests, no one objects, no one thinks. There isn’t a highly visible army or police force, just firemen. And is this one city or town, or is it a country or the world? Are books other than literature involved? If so, how do they maintain their fire-engine without a maintenance manual? If not, who decides what is inflammatory material and what isn’t? There is no sign of a review-board. Again who decides what is worthy of punishment and what that punishment should be - again
Say, like Animal Farm, it is an allegory. Does it work on that level? Not for me. It is too farcical. At no time did I as reader say to myself: Hey, this could happen! The main reason? The situation is allegedly brought about by, and policed by, non-readers. But non-readers have a contempt for books that lessens their perceived danger. Censorship is good but stopping publication is better. But there is no evidence of either.
The work is slight. It could have been so much better had the writer sat down and nutted it out: its implications and how the idea could be extended. There is nothing in this book that goes anywhere within cooee of the Thought Police, the Malthusian Belt, or Big Brother, or that wonderful aphorism: All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others.
He didn’t even bother to get his temperatures right.
The title’s a nonsense. There is no one type of paper used in books and therefore no set temperature at which it will ignite. As a title, Fahrenheit 451 is gimmicky and sloppy. The same goes for the rest of the book.
There are some great novels warning of the dangers of social control, primary among them 1984, Brave New World and Animal Farm. These three works are all carefully worked out and beautifully written. There is an air of reality about this world of the future. As a result, the warnings the books contain therefore work.
But F-111, or whatever it’s called, is quite simply idiotic. There is nothing real about it at all. The author has taken one idea and not bothered to expand it one iota. It is a solitary mono-thought. The fireman’s job is to light fires, not extinguish them. There is a light attempt to weave a love story out of that idea. It fails abjectly. The people are robots. Who’s doing what to whom? Who cares?
How can works of literature be regarded as the sole repository of thought? The mind thinks. People discuss. Why then can the mere burning of books be expected to extinguish thought? It doesn’t.
What does the discovery of books depend on? Accidental discovery or dobbers. How inefficient in what we are supposed to believe is a highly efficient world. How are they destroyed? By fire. How hit-and-miss.
And yet in this hit-and-miss, accidental, inefficient world we are to believe that no one protests, no one objects, no one thinks. There isn’t a highly visible army or police force, just firemen. And is this one city or town, or is it a country or the world? Are books other than literature involved? If so, how do they maintain their fire-engine without a maintenance manual? If not, who decides what is inflammatory material and what isn’t? There is no sign of a review-board. Again who decides what is worthy of punishment and what that punishment should be - again
Say, like Animal Farm, it is an allegory. Does it work on that level? Not for me. It is too farcical. At no time did I as reader say to myself: Hey, this could happen! The main reason? The situation is allegedly brought about by, and policed by, non-readers. But non-readers have a contempt for books that lessens their perceived danger. Censorship is good but stopping publication is better. But there is no evidence of either.
The work is slight. It could have been so much better had the writer sat down and nutted it out: its implications and how the idea could be extended. There is nothing in this book that goes anywhere within cooee of the Thought Police, the Malthusian Belt, or Big Brother, or that wonderful aphorism: All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others.
He didn’t even bother to get his temperatures right.
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