There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.
–Joseph Brodsky
Fahrenheit 451. A very compelling book that produces more questions than answers. 3 times I have read the book, turned over each page and still the questions are at the forefront of my mind. I blame my nature of being and English graduate. It is rather hard not to read such a book without analysing it, dissecting each chapter into tiny little segments of criticism.Without that, a true opinion cannot be formed. However, regardless of my inability to give my thoughts of the book, an entire new thought had been awoken - a world with out books. Books help us realise that we are not immortal but we can immortalise ideas, people, worlds with the use of words upon paper.
A world without books would be rather bleak. Imagination and creativity would no longer satisfy our thirst for sense or surrealism. Books serve a purpose, whether fiction or non-fiction, they give us life. They draw meaning to the world. Many writers want to transport you to another world, give you that escapism. Books make the bleak world around us much more colourful. They give you something to talk about, to dream about, even fall in love or hate with. Books give you knowledge and inspiration, the ability to create something of your own. You live the lives of each character, imagining how they look and feel just by looking at a few simple words.
To fear a book is understandable, it reflects your shame and ideas of the world around you.To stop others from reading proves the point that you have something to hide. Many books have been banned throughout the times, simply because they were too scandalous for that particular period. What if they were written just to prove a point. That your eyes needed to be open, you need to see the world for what it really is. To burn books because you are afraid, or to stop people reading something you wish for them not to see is not the way of life.
A world without books, would be bleak and boring. We would live in a world full of people following the same routine, joining the same profession, thinking the same thoughts. We would become machines of our own lives.
What would you choose? A book or machine?
