First published in 1953, Fahrenheit 451 presented
a future world where firefighters were called
upon not to put fires out, but to actually
set them.
In particular, they burned books—books which
might possibly offend or make anyone uncomfortable.
Fahrenheit 451, a book which warns against
censorship, has itself been the subject of
challenges and bans for the last fifty years.
Censorship is not a thing of the past—it
is happening right now.
According to the American Library Association’s
Office for Intellectual Freedom, reports of
book challenges increased 17% in 2016.
The actual number is probably even higher.
Don’t get burned.
Join us as we celebrate the freedom to read,
with the opening to Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit
451.
It was a pleasure to burn.
It was a special pleasure to see things eaten,
to see things blackened and changed.
With the brass nozzle in his fists, with this
great python spitting its venomous kerosene
upon the world, the blood pounded in his head,
and his hands were the hands of some amazing
conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing
and burning to bring down the tatters and
charcoal ruins of history.
With his symbolic helmet numbered 451 on his
stolid head, and his eyes all orange flame
with the thought of what came next, he flicked
the igniter and the house jumped up in a gorging
fire that burned the evening sky red and yellow
and black.
He strode in a swarm of fireflies.
He wanted above all, like the old joke, to
shove a marshmallow on a stick in the furnace,
while the flapping pigeon-winged books died
on the porch and lawn of the house.
While the books went up in sparkling whirls
and blew away on a wind turned dark with burning.
