When I was in seventh grade, I befriended some eighth graders who shared the same interests as myself: music, wit, passing notes during class, making good grades, and Eddie Vedder. One gal in particular mentioned the author Ray Bradbury so naturally, as the eager-to-please younger sister of the group, I checked out Fahrenheit 451 from the school library. Although I also checked out Dandelion Wine, The Martian Chronicles, and Something Wicked This Way Comes, I do believe there should still be a copy of Fahrenheit 451 at my junior high that shows that I’ve checked it out at least seven times. Not even consecutively as I found myself drawn to re-visiting the story of Guy Montag, the fireman / bookburner who meets a free spirit named Clarisse as they proceed to try and “stick it to the man”. Thus, my love for dystopian novels was born.
Even sixteen years later, I make sure my small, used, discolored copy of Fahrenheit 451 remains in my book collection in case I need to reminisce about how geeky I was (and still am) or remind myself that the internet may be full of information but nothing could ever replace the feel, smell, and endless possibilities of a good book.
So, in lieu of one of my favorite author’s 90th birthday, I will be humming this tune in my head all day (NSFW):
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Billy is TOTALLY re-reading Fahrenheit 451 right now! So you guys can be geeks together.
It’s a great, quick read. I love to read dystopian novels because lots of predicted evils exist in one way or another now… (she says as she types on the internet, a source of information overload and mindless clicking)