Guy Montag is a fireman. But, in the dystopian future of Ray Bradbury’s 1953 classic, a fireman’s duty is not to put out fires, but to start them. His job, in fact, is to burn books, a task that requires the temperature of 451° Fahrenheit. It’s natural to see Fahrenheit 451 as an allegory about censorship, but that would be to limit Bradbury’s purpose and accomplishment. What the tale really celebrates are the freedoms reading fosters—freedoms of thought, emotion, individuality, engagement with others and with nature—which are under threat from mass media, homogenization of public discourse, and the mediated experience technology promotes. But its function as a parable is only made possible by its power as a story: From first page to last, through Montag’s personal perils and larger societal upheavals, the reader follows Bradbury’s fireman on a journey that evokes more questions than it answers—one that is thrilling, satisfying, and deeply haunting.
Though I've loved Bradbury's masterwork for years, I don't think this is his best. I prefer The Martian Chronicles, The Illustrated Man, Dandelion Wine or his perfect short stories.
In an era when everyone is so "offended" and demands things to change their way, Bradbury's novel proves to be more applicable now than it even was when it was first published.
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