Hooked on Books: "Fahrenheit 451"

It was a beautiful thing, as I was growing up, to learn I wasn't alone. I had terrible, dull feelings at times (which can only be pronounced as "unexplained") where I felt like I was isolated, and the world was moving in slow motion yet I was the only one it was affecting. Yet then, as soon as it came on, the feeling was gone and my Father is placing me on his shoulders, or my Mother is hugging me tight around the waist.
I can remember many of these moments, filed away under "Give More Thought To" or "Quit Thinking About So Much". It's lovely to think though, that I have found a remedy for these bouts of unexplained anxiety. And that remedy has turned into the most beautiful of friendships.

I found books at an early age, and from have never relinquished my hold on them. They grew to be my saviors in times of distress, and the listening ear to many of my childish secrets. I gained knowledge, and comfort between their pages. And the pages never ended. As soon as I closed one book, another fell open before me. I liked how the letter 'g' always looked so royal, and how the word 'upon' conjured up images of adventure. My love grew obsessive. And soon I wanted anything I could get my hands on; words are addictive.

"Fahrenheit 451" by Ray Bradbury is full of addictive words.
Ray Bradbury was certainly a man before his time. He predicted the future, many have claimed. And Fahrenheit is just one example of his intellectual hypotheses.

"My wife says books aren't 'real.'"
"Thank God for that."

The United States, as we know it, has significantly changed. No longer are fires stopped, but started. And no longer are people talking to one another, but listening. Listening to programs that foster numbness. No thought. No ideas. No bothers. And the one thing that really bothers people has been destroyed- books!
Guy Montag is a fireman, whose job is to burn books- forbidden books. He sets blaze to Bibles, Shakespeare, Wilde, Austen, etc. Then the world is as it should be- free from opposing ideas and philosophies that drove its ancestors to murder. And Guy is satisfied with his job, until he meets Clarisse, a seventeen-year-old girl who chases butterflies and fills Guy's head with questions. He is encouraged to observe life. No longer is he quite sure about lighting the match, setting aflame the many pages of questions he has accumulated. And when the setting fire of books turns deadly he's certain those many covers contain the answers.

"There must be something in books, something we can't imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house; there must be something there. You don't stay for nothing."

Are the hypotheses coming true? Was Bradbury aware of the road many were taking? A look at the world gives us the answer. No longer are people talking to one another, the real kind of talking. The "tell me your hopes, dreams, fears" kind, that delves deeper. No longer are people observing, and asking questions. Is it because they've grown fearful of the answers?
And then, society has stopped reading. The ideas have stopped flowing, and soon the numbness will drown you. We turn on our TVs so we don't have to think. We plug our ears full of someone else's ideas. We plug up our minds with the same rubbish day in and day out.

"It's not books you need, it's some of the things that once were in books...there is nothing magical in them at all. The magic only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us."

There's something different about books. You serve as its master. You can cradle them for comfort, and throw them in anger. You can read them and love them, or read them and question them. You can rip out the pages you want to save, or rip out the ones you hate. They can lie on a bookshelf, for years- dead- and be brought back to life with two hands and an open mind.
And they bother you. And they question you. And you question them. Because that's what being alive means, it means feeling something. It means believing in something, saying something, yet listening to it too. It means ideas, and questions, and answers. Yet sometimes it means being bothered.

"We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered every once in a while."

Growing up with books has been my savior, and I've found myself between so many pages. I've asked questions, yet I've found answers, and I've asked more questions, and I'll continue to. And I'll read, and I'll read, and I'll read because they show cracks in the foundation of life and that's where I reside.
Books are honest to their readers, and I'm their most avid fan.

I recommend this book if you haven't read it. And if you have read it, read it again. You might find another jewel, or learn something new about yourself. Ray Bradbury has that affect on people, he makes them see life through new eyes.

So with fresh eyes, and even more questions I continue to live,
Always wishing you a
Happy Reading!