{shortcode-c48533eae26732f568a577b679e2281798695cb6}
Ray Bradbury’s 1953 dystopian novel, “Fahrenheit 451,” is at once a captivating and concerning work of literature. It is not my favorite book. In fact, when I first read it as my 7th-grade summer reading assignment, I did not like it. But there’s worth in revisiting this classic.
“Fahrenheit 451” is set in a future where firefighters start fires instead of preventing them. In this fictional world, books are illegal, and firefighters are responsible for burning them. The narrative follows Guy Montag, a fireman who grows disillusioned with his life, intrigued by literature and knowledge, and thus becomes identified as a danger to his society. He eventually flees into hiding and commits to preserving literary works.
As a 12-year-old reader, I appreciated Bradbury’s pro-book and anti-censorship concept, but I did not enjoy the story. The writing felt heavy-handed and lacked nuance. When I was assigned to read it again as part of my 11th-grade summer reading, it bored me even more. I resented its obvious themes and ideas, which left no room for nuanced interpretation or disagreement. As an avid reader of dystopian literature, I enjoyed the genre, but with predictable characters and an overwhelmingly overt message, “Fahrenheit 451” was not complex enough to excite me.
Today, I realize that the story’s simplicity is crucial to its efficacy. In a way, “Fahrenheit 451” acts as an emergency alarm. Alarms should not be complicated; they should draw widespread attention and direct a clear response, without confusion. The book highlights the perils of censorship and directs readers to value literature, information, and expression. Ultimately, “Fahrenheit 451” benefits from its simplicity. It conveys a straightforward message: preserve free speech.
Like an emergency alarm, Bradbury intended his message to serve as a warning. He described himself as “a preventer of futures, not a predictor of them.”
However, it seems impossible to truly prevent a future, and “Fahrenheit 451” eerily predicts several elements of the present day. Long before their inventions, Bradbury wrote about in-ear headphones, flat television screens, and most scarily, an increase in book-banning. As the narrative’s earliest possible setting is 2023, “Fahrenheit 451” is crucially relevant in the present moment.
As established, books are illegal in the dystopian world of “Fahrenheit 451.” The government believes that they depress and confuse civilians. Citing those same reasons, many of today’s real-world conservative parent advocacy groups and Republican legislators spearhead increased efforts to ban specific books in public schools and libraries. The American Library Association reported that the number of attempts to ban books in 2022 nearly doubled since 2021, and free speech organization PEN America reported 1,477 instances of individual books banned in the first half of the 2022-23 school year. These numbers are only increasing — and they largely target marginalized voices, as about 41% of banned book titles include BGLTQ themes or characters and about 40% include prominent characters of color.
“Fahrenheit 451” warns against the dangers of banning books by showing that this practice consequently bans ideas and knowledge, leading to the detriment of society. Books aren’t the only things that are destroyed during the story: houses are also burned, and people are killed. Bradbury proposes the idea that the death of literature leads to the death of us all, a collective downfall: Censorship kills.
This concept is most compellingly portrayed through fire, an essential symbol in “Fahrenheit 451.” Fire represents destruction, as uncontrolled fire obliterates everything it touches. However, fire also represents awareness, as controlled fire — like a candle — illuminates. The firemen’s book-burning is not governance, as their destruction only becomes out-of-hand, eliminating more than just books. However, Guy Montag finds inspiration in a character who reminds him of candlelight and its ability to make books legible in the night — to access knowledge in darkness. In both situations, fire represents power. In this way, Bradbury proposes that governments and civilians have the choice to use their power either for the destruction or cultivation of knowledge.
70 years later, that message sparks controversy. Despite the fact that free speech is a critical part of the First Amendment, often considered the backbone of freedom in the United States, book-banning is a politicized and polarizing issue in 2023. While book-banning is largely an anti-BGLTQ and anti-Black action today, Bradbury had the opposite concern. He hated “political correctness,” and he wanted to protect the ability to “criticize” BGLTQ people and Black people. “Fahrenheit 451” initially served as a caution against censorship during the Cold War, but in the 1990s, Bradbury considered “Fahrenheit 451” a caution against censorship of sociocultural hate speech.
While the message in “Fahrenheit 451” is insightful, Bradbury’s suggestion to use it as a defense of hate speech is disappointing. His disdain for political correctness is misguided, because it is essential to avoid hate speech to maintain safe, inclusive, affirming spaces. Still, Bradbury’s claim does not undermine his warning. The U.S. government should never ban any sort of speech that does not incite violence, whether the speech is agreeable or disagreeable, because the ability to say, write, and read anything in public spaces — including schools and libraries — is essential to American liberty and the preservation and development of a functional and forward-looking society. Whether the language is productive or problematic, it should not be legally prohibited. Free speech must extend to all.
“Fahrenheit 451” is not one of my favorite reads, but it is a necessary and valuable read that presents a topical and pressing message. The novel serves as a reminder that censorship is dangerous — not just for certain groups of people, but for everyone. Bradbury’s alarm is not a drill. We can listen, or we can burn.
—Staff writer Vivienne N. Germain can be reached at vivienne.germain@thecrimson.com.
