David Brodsky

Mr. Steen

A.P. Literature and Composition

9/30/02

On Banning Fahrenheit 451

“Fahrenheit 451 should be banned.” That is the statement that you, ladies and gentlemen of the School Board, have set before us. I, for one, certainly see why you have taken this position and why you, therefore, do not want this book to be read by students within this district. I understand your reasoning and yet I find myself compelled to disagree. In 1951, when Ray Bradbury’s book was first published, under the title, “The Fireman,” it must have been truly shocking. Book burnings! Nuclear wars! Revisionist history! A fascistic government attempting to control your every thought, action—your very understanding of the world around you. Only five years after the devastation of the Second World War, this book must have been horrific in its implications about America.
Now, in the year 2002, it retains quite a bit of its horror (after all, it does take place some time during the twenty-first century). However, this book was not written in an attempt to terrify and scare us. Or rather, it was, but for a very specific purpose. That purpose is something which you must understand. The book is, simply put, a warning. It is as if to say, “Look here, it happened recently just across the Atlantic. If you—the people of America—are not careful, it will happen here.” I see that you still look incredulous. Allow me to elaborate.

The main character of the book, a fireman by the name of Guy Montag, has spent the past ten years of his life setting ablaze those horrid things that he cannot understand—books. Suddenly, he meets a young girl who changes his perspective on the world with a single question, “Do you ever read any of the books you burn?” From that point on, Montag begins to realize the failings of his government. He, and a retired English professor named Faber, mount an effort to save at least some books. This effort is soon discovered by the Fire Chief, and Montag’s house is burned to the ground. He, however, manages to escape. In the end, he meets up with a group of runaway professors and together they try to disseminate the knowledge of books. It is at this time that a nuclear war begins—and ends, within seconds—and the opportunity presents itself for Montag and company to bring literature back to the world.

At first glance, there is certainly nothing sinister about this book. Look a little deeper and you find the terrible truth—Bradbury’s absolutely right. When he writes that people talk about nothing—mind you, I do not mean that they don’t talk about anything, but rather that they talk about nothing—he is portraying the high school students of today. Naturally this is due to the various other media; it is much easier to watch a movie, television program or listen to the radio than read a book. When he writes about books being banned from schools, homes, and everywhere else, it may seem a bit drastic. When he explains that this started because people simply stopped reading, and that those who continued therefore became dangerous, he is right on the mark. If you look at it logically, it makes perfect sense. Since the huge mass of published work is too overwhelming to sort through, people read condensed books, or don’t read. Those who don’t read don’t want to feel inferior to those who do, and this leads to violent reactions and hostility towards books. “We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal as the constitution says, but everyone made equal…A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it. Take the shot from the weapon.” Another reason that Bradbury presents for the loss of books is that every single person wants to change books to his own outlook. In his coda to the book, Bradbury writes:

The point is obvious. There is more than one way to burn a book. And the world is full of people running about with lit matches. Every minority be it Baptist/Unitarian, Irish/Italian/Octogenarian/Zen Buddhist, Zionist/Seventh-day Adventist, Women’s Lib/Republican, Mattachine/Four Square Gospel feels it has the will, the right, the duty to douse the kerosene, light the fuse. Every dimwit editor who sees himself as the source of all dreary blanc-mange plain porridge unleavened literature, licks his guillotine and eyes the neck of any author who dares speak above a whisper or write above a nursery rhyme.

In this impassioned statement, the author sums up the main point of the book. Censorship is wrong. Yet there is more to this book than ignorance and censorship. Earlier, I mentioned revisionist history. Everyone wants to revise history to make his way seem correct. When Montag asks Fire Chief Beatty whether it was once true that firemen put out fires and that books were legal, Beatty recites a bit of pre-fab, manufactured history. The Fire Department was “established, [in] 1790, to burn English-influenced books in the colonies. First Fireman: Benjamin Franklin. Rule 1. Answer the alarm swiftly. 2. Start the fire swiftly. 3. Burn everything. 4. Report back to firehouse immediately. 5. Stand alert for other alarms.”

So, as you can see, Bradbury was pretty close to the truth of today’s existence. When I say today, I mean it in the figurative or general sense of the word, and the literal. For today, we see Bradbury’s prediction come true. You, ladies and gentlemen, stand in judgment over this book. Your only stated reason for banning this book is that it is disconcerting, possibly offensive. I propose that it is. And yet, it must stay. For by banning this book, you become the villains of Bradbury’s book. And the more there are like that, the closer his nightmare comes to becoming our reality.