Tuesday, April 24, 2012

The Sieve and the Sand

"'We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over.'" This is the page Montag reads on a cold, rainy November day after he learns of Clarisse's death. It is ironic and painful. This is the point in the book where things begin to go horribly awry. Montag's first mistake is allowing Mildred to know about his reading habits, because she is the same as the firefighters, the policemen, the neighbors who would pull the alarm in two seconds if they knew Montag had even considered reading a scrap of literature. Mildred is incapable of feeling remorse for wrongdoings so her fear of the books being found is derived strictly from her fear that her way of life will be skewed if someone does happen to find out. I'm not even sure if Mildred herself is sure of exactly what she's afraid of. But she knows that books are evil, they possess dark knowledge of an old world that she wants nothing to do with because the unknown frightens her. She wants to be kept wound tightly in her little bubble of a reality society has blown for her. When Montag tries to confide in his wife about the woman he and the other firemen had burned the night before, Mildred is completely disinterested. Once again, a prime example of a dysfunctional 'husband-wife' relationship.
    I was very excited when Montag reunited with Faber because I as the reader no longer felt alone. I felt that I had a vessel in this story from the world I know that could communicate to Montag what I wanted to speak aloud and tell him myself about books and knowledge, the truths and the beautiful enlightening wisdom they bring. Faber was that proxy, and I was very thankful. The earpiece and microphone was ingenious, until Montag decided it would be a good idea to flaunt his books about in front of Mildred's friends like a mad man. However, that was also like a scene from a movie (as most of this book was for me, I could almost put a song to every event) and I could feel Montag's desperation to 'snap everyone out of it' for lack of a better term. He was one of the few lucky people in the world that hadn't been so tainted with technologies who could actually grasp that he was living in a highly distorted reality. I could see the sweat beads on his forehead, the scramble for words and justifications, the frantic motions of his hands,  the desperate pleas of his tongue. For a moment I was living vicariously through Montag.
   I've always known Beatty sucks. He's a worm-like, manipulative sloth with a deteriorated mind and a psychologically stifling disposition. When Montag cannot go into work because he has become ill with despair, Beatty's visit had me squirming. The whole rant he gave Montag about what books are and a fireman's curiosity about what it is he is actually destroying was a tantalizing game that was seemingly neverending. I hated every moment, and at the end when Montag refuses to come clean about the books and Beatty takes him to his own house to burn the possessions, my heart skipped a beat. "Why, we've stopped in front of my house." Chills!

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