He waffled about what the book was really about. At first he said it was censorship. Later in life he said it was intended as a searing indictment of the looming cultural distraction of technology, most notably television according to his biographer Sam Weller.
Which is wild considering he wrote scripts for the Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents, then had Ray Bradbury Theater in the 80s.
I always hated the obvious disdain with which the author treats a woman doing a teleplay in her own home.
Acting is a skill, and recreation has value. If a person sitting in their own living room doing VR episodes of TV where they play a part, that doesn’t make them vapid or foolish or represent an unwise use of their time.
I have watched movies that have had an equal lack of need of my input that still managed to make me think and feel you condescending prick! And I have read books with which I’ve had infinitely less intellectual involvement than a woman pretending to be a character in a soap opera! Take your elitist victimization fetish and shove it up your ass!
…sorry, I actually love parts of Fahrenheit 451. But I’ve been angry about this for years. The “hero” of the story denigrating his own wife because of how he views her hobby? Because in his mind, it isn’t as intellectually stimulating as his new, illegal hobby? What an asshole.
It is a shame, as what was really wrong with her wasn’t that she used escapism, but that she was apathetic. You can escape reality and relax, but there’s work to do if we want to contribute positively to the world. All mediums can pacify us from the horrors of the world. Books are slightly better by virtue of having a lower barrier to entry, but the internet lowered that potential barrier.
The problem I had with this is that it’s an apathy that he himself had until recently, and now he’s a smug prick hating on his wife for not being cool enough to break the law like he does.
He never tells her what he’s doing. He believes he can’t. So instead of trying to communicate, and dealing with the fallout of a difficult discussion, he just judges her for being who he was.
It’s still a dick move no matter how it’s justified!
Lots of the book is just “old man yells at cloud”, even though Bradbury wasn’t particularly old at the time. Not chronologically, anyway.
I do think he made a good point about porches. Places where you hang out and invite your neighbors to just come by. Houses aren’t really made that way anymore; my house has a small concrete block out front that’s barely enough to fit two chairs comfortably. Setback requirements in zoning mean it’s legally impossible to add anything else, at least as the city zoning code stands right now.
There’s a definite change in how my parents’ generation interacts with people compared to my generation. It was more normal just to drop by and talk, though perhaps with a phone call to check in first. My friends would consider that weird.
He waffled about what the book was really about. At first he said it was censorship. Later in life he said it was intended as a searing indictment of the looming cultural distraction of technology, most notably television according to his biographer Sam Weller.
Which is wild considering he wrote scripts for the Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents, then had Ray Bradbury Theater in the 80s.
I always hated the obvious disdain with which the author treats a woman doing a teleplay in her own home.
Acting is a skill, and recreation has value. If a person sitting in their own living room doing VR episodes of TV where they play a part, that doesn’t make them vapid or foolish or represent an unwise use of their time.
I have watched movies that have had an equal lack of need of my input that still managed to make me think and feel you condescending prick! And I have read books with which I’ve had infinitely less intellectual involvement than a woman pretending to be a character in a soap opera! Take your elitist victimization fetish and shove it up your ass!
…sorry, I actually love parts of Fahrenheit 451. But I’ve been angry about this for years. The “hero” of the story denigrating his own wife because of how he views her hobby? Because in his mind, it isn’t as intellectually stimulating as his new, illegal hobby? What an asshole.
It is a shame, as what was really wrong with her wasn’t that she used escapism, but that she was apathetic. You can escape reality and relax, but there’s work to do if we want to contribute positively to the world. All mediums can pacify us from the horrors of the world. Books are slightly better by virtue of having a lower barrier to entry, but the internet lowered that potential barrier.
The problem I had with this is that it’s an apathy that he himself had until recently, and now he’s a smug prick hating on his wife for not being cool enough to break the law like he does.
He never tells her what he’s doing. He believes he can’t. So instead of trying to communicate, and dealing with the fallout of a difficult discussion, he just judges her for being who he was.
It’s still a dick move no matter how it’s justified!
Lots of the book is just “old man yells at cloud”, even though Bradbury wasn’t particularly old at the time. Not chronologically, anyway.
I do think he made a good point about porches. Places where you hang out and invite your neighbors to just come by. Houses aren’t really made that way anymore; my house has a small concrete block out front that’s barely enough to fit two chairs comfortably. Setback requirements in zoning mean it’s legally impossible to add anything else, at least as the city zoning code stands right now.
There’s a definite change in how my parents’ generation interacts with people compared to my generation. It was more normal just to drop by and talk, though perhaps with a phone call to check in first. My friends would consider that weird.
Oh! I’ve always lived more rurally, so I’m not familiar with the lack of porches in cities. That bites!