"Number one: Do you know why books such as this are so important? Because they have quality. And what does the word quality mean? To me it means texture. The book has pores. It has features. This book can go under the microscope. You'd find life under the glass, streaming fast in infinite profusion. The more pores, the more truthfully recorded details of life per square inch you can get on a sheet of paper. the more 'literary' you are. That's my definition, anyway. Telling detail. Fresh detail. The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies."
"So now do you see why books are hated and feared? They show the pores in the face of life. The comfortable people want only wax moon faces, poreless, hairless, expressionless. We are living in a time when flowers are trying to live on flowers, instead of growing on good rain and black loam. Even fireworks, with all their prettiness, come from the chemistry of the earth. Yet somehow we think we can grow, feeding on flowers and fireworks, without completing back the cycle back to reality."
Professor Faber explaining the first of three points to Guy Montag, the fireman, of what a book is and why it is feared in their future world.
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451, 1953: New York, Ballantine Books and Del Rey, p. 83
balisawsaw@blogspot
tinta baluarte
"So now do you see why books are hated and feared? They show the pores in the face of life. The comfortable people want only wax moon faces, poreless, hairless, expressionless. We are living in a time when flowers are trying to live on flowers, instead of growing on good rain and black loam. Even fireworks, with all their prettiness, come from the chemistry of the earth. Yet somehow we think we can grow, feeding on flowers and fireworks, without completing back the cycle back to reality."
Professor Faber explaining the first of three points to Guy Montag, the fireman, of what a book is and why it is feared in their future world.
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451, 1953: New York, Ballantine Books and Del Rey, p. 83
balisawsaw@blogspot
tinta baluarte
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