I've started reading Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. I bought it from a bookshop. Not an independent bookshop, admittedly, but a bookshop nonetheless. I have started reading it as a small, dutiful, symbolic, and I hope, actually more than symbolic act, because I care about books (I know it's a stark statement to make in a world where we're all supposed to be ironic and not care about anything, least of all books), and I want to make some mental statement of that attitude, at the very least to myself.
I've only just started reading Fahrenheit 451 and I don't know exactly the angle it will take, though I do have a broad idea. It's a book about the end of books, and a book about censorship. Today, in internet news, there has been much coverage of a story that involves censorship and which also involves the protection of books, in as much as it relates to copyright laws. Superficially, at least, in the news story in question, these concerns are on opposing sides (anti-censorship against the protection of copyright/books), which might tell us something about the confused and twisted times in which we're living. I don't believe in censorship. I do believe in the benefits to creativity of a reasonable enforcement of intellectual property rights. Why? Because people who create culture need to eat as much as people who fix cars or wait on tables. Food costs money. Shelter costs money. Clothes cost money. Books, films and music should also cost money if the people who produce them are to have the food, shelter and clothes (amongst other things) that cost money.
I don't know if I will agree with all that Bradbury states or implies in his novel. I don't even know if I agree with all that I've already read, in its attitudes and implications. But I do agree with what I see is the underlying, passionate attitude: books have value, and the world would be a much worse place without them. I therefore would like to urge people reading this blog also to go out and buy a copy of Fahrenheit 451, from a real, bricks-and-mortar bookshop, and read it, and ask yourself whether you want to live in a world without books, because I swear sometimes it looks very much like that's where we're headed. And this is from Bradbury's own Afterword to the novel:
There remains only to mention a prediction that my Fire Chief, Beatty, made in 1953, halfway through my book. It had to do with books being burned without matches or fire. Because you don't have to burn books, do you, if the world starts to fill up with non-readers, non-learners, non-knowers? If the world widescreen basketballs and footballs itself to drown in MTV, no Beattys are needed to ignite the kerosene or hunt the reader. If the primary grades suffer meltdown and vanish through the cracks and ventilators of the school room, who, after a while, will know or care?
Josep S. writes:Beautiful post. I enjoy immensely these posts of yours that resemble short manifestos. I agree entirely with your reflections. What’s more discouraging, however, is that writers themselves are choosing the path of self combustion:http://www.thewhitereview.org/features/nude-in-your-hot-tub-facing-the-abyss-a-literary-manifesto-after-the-end-of-literature-and-manifestos/
Anonymous writes:A review said books were no longer being read when the characters decided to personify them.
Thank you for commenting.I’ll try to respond to these (and comments on previous posts) later. Chomu very busy at present, + other things.
Originally posted by anonymous:Beautiful post. I enjoy immensely these posts of yours that resemble short manifestos. I agree entirely with your reflections. What’s more discouraging, however, is that writers themselves are choosing the path of self combustionThank you.I skimmed the article you posted the link to. I can’t really comment in depth until I read the whole thing. From what I can make it, it’s really not much more than the kind of self-deprecation that has existed among writers for god know’s how long, married to a relatively new concern among writers, which is something like ‘fear of being counter-revolutionary’. This is from an e-mail that I wrote to a friend recently:We know that there was plenty to rebel against in China in the 20th Century, but it’s also quite possible to be horrified by what happened in the Cultural Revolution. What I’m afraid is that literature is now being placed entirely in the hands of those who don’t care about it, and is turning into a kind of Internet pyramind scheme. “You, too, could write a book!” Everyone has a novel in them, apparently. Why is it that people don’t say, “Everyone has a major brain operation in them”, or, “everyone has one public engineering project in them”? I wish people had more respect for writing, but it’s just seen as something to ‘try your hand at’, and something that you might get rich at if you follow the right promotional rules. I seriously believe that the human race is determined to rape and murder literature. There is some kind of vendetta going on that I can’t quite understand, but it’s there. I see it happening.In Fahrenheit 451, Bradbury makes it clear what he thinks that vendetta is. This is Beatty, the chief fireman, speaking, and he sounds uncannily like the voice of modern political correctness:Surely you remember the boy in your own school class who was eceptionally “bright”, did most of the reciting and answering while the others sat like so many leaden idols, hating him. And wasn’t it this bright boy you selected for beatings and tortures after hours? Of course it was. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made equal. Each man the image of every other; then they are all happy, for there are no mountains to make them cower, to judge themselves against. So! A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it.Incidentally, at primary school, I was one of those exceptionally bright boys – top of every class. I learned over time how others hate you for this sort of thing, though they ask to copy your work. In secondary school, for various reasons, I gave up on all that. The schools themselves don’t encourage intelligence.Some relevant links:Hatred of intellectuals:http://www.coldwar.org/articles/70s/KhmerRougeandCambodia.aspThe Khmer Rouge believed that their biggest threats were intellectuals because they had the intelligence to question authority and possibly overthrow the regime. Thus, teachers, doctors, lawyers and even members of the army were immediately killed. Even wearing glasses was enough reason for the Khmer Rouge to murder civilians. They took eliminating intellectuals so seriously that even extended families were killed; for example, the second cousin of a doctor could be killed for his relations.Music and books were banned along with religion. Temples were destroyed and thousands of monks lost their lives to the regime. Witness accounts have even stated that laughing was a reason to be killed. Relationships were basically outlawed along with most forms of physical affection.Self-deprecating writers:http://my.opera.com/quentinscrisp/blog/show.dml/11961But, for god’s sake, we must not get too caught up with our self-deprecation at precisely those times when the world seems poised to start abandoning or burning books.I’ve been reading some essays by C.S. Lewis recently, and there was, in one of them, a brief passage opining that to go to the opera in order to “get culture” was precisely the wrong reason to go, that once you start to think of a thing as culture (and this is what happens in academia, of course) then it begins to lose its value and its point. I’ve just looked for the passage again, because it was well-worded, but I can’t find it. I think that at least half of the self-deprecation of the writer boils down to this phenomenon that Lewis is describing – you could call it a wish to avoid being cultural Pharisees. But, mere distaste for the word ‘culture’ could be preventing many from defending something that, when it is gone, we might heartily wish we had defended.
Originally posted by anonymous:A review said books were no longer being read when the characters decided to personify them. I’m not sure I understand. Is this like the Marxist theory that Heaven is only a kind of displacement, and that once the means of production are in the hands of the workers then there will be no need to look forward to an unearthly fulfilment? Or have I got the wrong end of the stick entirely?
Josep S. writes:Many thanks for your in-depth response to my post. I admire you for taking the time and the patience to answer every post you receive, and with such wit and eloquence. Sometimes I sense that your exquisite manners have a distinct Japanese quality.”What I’m afraid is that literature is now being placed entirely in the hands of those who don’t care about it, and is turning into a kind of Internet pyramind scheme. “You, too, could write a book!” Everyone has a novel in them, apparently. Why is it that people don’t say, “Everyone has a major brain operation in them”, or, “everyone has one public engineering project in them”? I wish people had more respect for writing, but it’s just seen as something to ‘try your hand at’, and something that you might get rich at if you follow the right promotional rules. I seriously believe that the human race is determined to rape and murder literature. There is some kind of vendetta going on that I can’t quite understand, but it’s there. I see it happening”.How true. Nowadays, it’s not even compulsory to learn the basics of the craft. Some publishers will even reject your novel because it’s too well written. We’re living in a time of week-end writers writing for week-end readers. How I miss the time where the writer was a true artist, a junkie, an outlaw, a fool, a beggar, an opium eater, a samurai, a holy drunkard, a gunslinger. Someone living in the margins, a true medium, a person of vocation, a spokesman of the shadowlands, the traveler to the end of night. How I miss this writers.”Incidentally, at primary school, I was one of those exceptionally bright boys – top of every class. I learned over time how others hate you for this sort of thing, though they ask to copy your work. In secondary school, for various reasons, I gave up on all that. The schools themselves don’t encourage intelligence”.The common nightmare of hipersensitive people. I can relate to that. If you have the courage and the slyness to act as they expect, you can get along somehow. If you don’t, I think you illustrate the consequences and the pain very wll in “Remember You’re a One-Ball!”I’ve already read your post on self-deprecating writers, and I confess it opened my eyes. As an author myself, I often wallow in self-hatred and doubt about the worth of writing fiction these days. I presume that the unceasing chitchat of so many copy-leftists and pirates make the situation worse. “But, for god’s sake, we must not get too caught up with our self-deprecation at precisely those times when the world seems poised to start abandoning or burning books”.Thanks for this precious piece of advice.At least today I did a counter-revolutionary act: I bought a copy of “Morbid Tales”. I hope it arrives soon.
Josep S. writes:
Sorry. Here’s my post with the proper divisions.
Josep S. writes: Many thanks for your in-depth response to my post. I admire you for taking the time and the patience to answer every post you receive, and with such wit and eloquence. Sometimes I sense that your exquisite manners have a distinct Japanese quality.
“What I’m afraid is that literature is now being placed entirely in the hands of those who don’t care about it, and is turning into a kind of Internet pyramind scheme. “You, too, could write a book!” Everyone has a novel in them, apparently. Why is it that people don’t say, “Everyone has a major brain operation in them”, or, “everyone has one public engineering project in them”? I wish people had more respect for writing, but it’s just seen as something to ‘try your hand at’, and something that you might get rich at if you follow the right promotional rules. I seriously believe that the human race is determined to rape and murder literature. There is some kind of vendetta going on that I can’t quite understand, but it’s there. I see it happening”.
How true. Nowadays, it’s not even compulsory to learn the basics of the craft. Some publishers will even reject your novel because it’s too well written. We’re living in a time of week-end writers writing for week-end readers. How I miss the time where the writer was a true artist, a junkie, an outlaw, a fool, a beggar, an opium eater, a samurai, a holy drunkard, a gunslinger. Someone living in the margins, a true medium, a person of vocation, a spokesman of the shadowlands, the traveler to the end of night. How I miss this writers.
“Incidentally, at primary school, I was one of those exceptionally bright boys – top of every class. I learned over time how others hate you for this sort of thing, though they ask to copy your work. In secondary school, for various reasons, I gave up on all that. The schools themselves don’t encourage intelligence”.
The common nightmare of hipersensitive people. I can relate to that. If you have the courage and the slyness to act as they expect, you can get along somehow. If you don’t, I think you illustrate the consequences and the pain very wll in “Remember You’re a One-Ball!”
I’ve already read your post on self-deprecating writers, and I confess it opened my eyes. As an author myself, I often wallow in self-hatred and doubt about the worth of writing fiction these days. I presume that the unceasing chitchat of so many copy-leftists and pirates make the situation worse.
“But, for god’s sake, we must not get too caught up with our self-deprecation at precisely those times when the world seems poised to start abandoning or burning books”.
Thanks for this precious piece of advice. At least today I did a counter-revolutionary act: I bought a copy of “Morbid Tales”. I hope it arrives soon.
Josep S. writes:Sorry again. I can’t manage to publish this in a readable form…
More later…
Sadly, it doesn’t seem to have worked, even with me adding code. It’ll probably work in my comment, though, if I paste it here:
Josep S. writes:
Sorry. Here’s my post with the proper divisions.
Josep S. writes: Many thanks for your in-depth response to my post. I admire you for taking the time and the patience to answer every post you receive, and with such wit and eloquence. Sometimes I sense that your exquisite manners have a distinct Japanese quality.
“What I’m afraid is that literature is now being placed entirely in the hands of those who don’t care about it, and is turning into a kind of Internet pyramind scheme. “You, too, could write a book!” Everyone has a novel in them, apparently. Why is it that people don’t say, “Everyone has a major brain operation in them”, or, “everyone has one public engineering project in them”? I wish people had more respect for writing, but it’s just seen as something to ‘try your hand at’, and something that you might get rich at if you follow the right promotional rules. I seriously believe that the human race is determined to rape and murder literature. There is some kind of vendetta going on that I can’t quite understand, but it’s there. I see it happening”.
How true. Nowadays, it’s not even compulsory to learn the basics of the craft. Some publishers will even reject your novel because it’s too well written. We’re living in a time of week-end writers writing for week-end readers. How I miss the time where the writer was a true artist, a junkie, an outlaw, a fool, a beggar, an opium eater, a samurai, a holy drunkard, a gunslinger. Someone living in the margins, a true medium, a person of vocation, a spokesman of the shadowlands, the traveler to the end of night. How I miss this writers.
“Incidentally, at primary school, I was one of those exceptionally bright boys – top of every class. I learned over time how others hate you for this sort of thing, though they ask to copy your work. In secondary school, for various reasons, I gave up on all that. The schools themselves don’t encourage intelligence”.
The common nightmare of hipersensitive people. I can relate to that. If you have the courage and the slyness to act as they expect, you can get along somehow. If you don’t, I think you illustrate the consequences and the pain very wll in “Remember You’re a One-Ball!”
I’ve already read your post on self-deprecating writers, and I confess it opened my eyes. As an author myself, I often wallow in self-hatred and doubt about the worth of writing fiction these days. I presume that the unceasing chitchat of so many copy-leftists and pirates make the situation worse.
“But, for god’s sake, we must not get too caught up with our self-deprecation at precisely those times when the world seems poised to start abandoning or burning books”.
Thanks for this precious piece of advice. At least today I did a counter-revolutionary act: I bought a copy of “Morbid Tales”. I hope it arrives soon.
Sometimes Opera seems to do this in the comments section. I don’t know why. I’ll guess the breaks of your post and put them in on the second one. Let me know if it’s right. (Probably can’t do this for every post, unfortunately.)
“It will never be known what acts of cowardice have been committed for fear of not looking sufficiently progressive.” — Charles Peguy
Originally posted by anonymous:Many thanks for your in-depth response to my post. I admire you for taking the time and the patience to answer every post you receive, and with such wit and eloquence.Well, it’s not quite every post – I don’t seem to quite manage that.Originally posted by anonymous:Sometimes I sense that your exquisite manners have a distinct Japanese quality.I didn’t always get it right in Japan, but one or two people said I seemed Japanese, in an old-fashioned way.Originally posted by anonymous:Some publishers will even reject your novel because it’s too well written. We’re living in a time of week-end writers writing for week-end readers. How I miss the time where the writer was a true artist, a junkie, an outlaw, a fool, a beggar, an opium eater, a samurai, a holy drunkard, a gunslinger. Someone living in the margins, a true medium, a person of vocation, a spokesman of the shadowlands, the traveler to the end of night. How I miss this writers.If I remember correctly, I think it was J.G. Ballard who said that Burroughs was the last of the true writers, and that all we have left now are the career writers. I’d like to say that’s not true, and I suppose I could give examples to support such a refutation, but I’m not sure, unfortunately, if I could give myself as an example. I wouldn’t actually mind having a career, and have often thought I’d like to be a kind of literary Disney, but I have not managed it so far. Career or not, I think I have some kind of idea what good writing is, and I value it.Originally posted by anonymous:I’ve already read your post on self-deprecating writers, and I confess it opened my eyes. As an author myself, I often wallow in self-hatred and doubt about the worth of writing fiction these days. I presume that the unceasing chitchat of so many copy-leftists and pirates make the situation worse.I’ve encountered this now often enough to see that it’s a pattern, and I think it’s a pattern because there are consistent realities to which it is a response. There are at least two parts to this self-deprecation, one is that the writer wishes to avoid beign a puffed-up, self-important buffoon (difficult, in a way, because writing has to do with expression, passion, imagination, etc., and so there is plenty of opportunity to look like a self-important buffoon), and the other is that writing (especially fiction/poetry/creative writing) is not respected as a way of being in the world, and it’s hard to respect one’s own calling when it is so universally held in contempt. There are other reasons, but I think those are the main two.Originally posted by anonymous:Thanks for this precious piece of advice. At least today I did a counter-revolutionary act: I bought a copy of “Morbid Tales”. I hope it arrives soon. Thank you. I hope you enjoy it.Originally posted by gveranon:”It will never be known what acts of cowardice have been committed for fear of not looking sufficiently progressive.” — Charles PeguyThis is a very great quote. There’s a very strong sense in which to be ‘progressive’ is simply to go with the tide.