Ray Bradbury, R.I.P.

Fahrenheit 451 is the tome of his that I know best, written in 1953, the year of my birth, and I know it best from seeing the movie. It carries forth a message we may need to heed if the world gets much crazier.

Ray Bradbury has died at 91. His most famous book, "Fahrenheit 451," is about book-burning in a world where entertainment on wall-size screens (“parlor walls”) has replaced reading. Published in 1953, it’s a dystopia woven from a fear of television.
Its redemptive ending establishes another theme: the power of memory. The books aren’t gone. Their texts have been preserved in the memories of people who read them and will keep them alive until it’s safe to write them down again. One man has Plato’s "Republic," another "Gulliver’s Travels," another the book of Ecclesiastes. Books aren’t physical objects. They’re words that resonate and linger in the mind.

 As happens, I wasn't aware that he was still living, I read yesterday that he suffered a stroke just a few years ago, which would have diminished his public appearance, but, that somehow seems the great shame of his passing. That, and the fact that his talent will not bring us much from that fine mind. Notice of his death will call me bck to his work, as Postrell wrote in that piece I link above, when I was young I wasn't mature enough to appreciate his writing. I don't have that excuse anymore.

Apparently, all young people do not suffer from a lack of appreciation for  his works.  This gal seems particularly taken by him, a funny video, clever lyrics, but not for the puritanic.

F*ck Me, Ray Bradbury - watch more funny videos