FARENHEITH 415

  It takes a person approximately five seconds to form an opinion on someone. In those moments, we take in everything from the said person's hair and clothes to body language and facial features. Back in the day of our long forgotten ancestor's, this was a survival mechanism, intended to provide the human race with a better chance at survival. At that time, first impressions were literally a matter of life and death.  

 What I'm getting at is that it's instinctive to form such quick opinions of things and people around us. It is in our nature to, in essence, judge book by its cover. And try as we might to fight it, we will always have a predisposition of a book before we even get passed the cover.

Try as I might, that's what I did with Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451. I assumed the reading would be a long, painful process before I even finished the first paragraph. Too bad first impressions are sometimes right.

The main character so far, the firefighter with a strange obsession with a 15 year old girl, gets on my nerves. The girl, though normal by today's standards, just seems to constantly annoy me. Mildred needs serious help for her depression and materialistic greed, and the chief fireman obviously knows more than he's letting on.

In all honestly, he characters probably aren't that bad, I can really see myself growing to like the strange fireman, I can tell how much he cares for his wife, and I'm curious to met the girl's uncle. I have a feeling he'll be important later. It's Bradbury's writing style that irks me.

I can't exactly say what it is about the way he arranges his words on the paper, just something about the way the sentences for the story makes my eye twitch. I often find this is the case when dealing with great literary classics such as Shakespeare and F. Scott Fitzgerald. The way they write is not what I'm used to, nor what I like. I'm not afraid to admit that I am a picky person, but I am trying to be more open minded.

Who knows, maybe by the end of Fahrenheit, Bradbury's style will have grown on me. And while first impressions can't be changed, opinions can.

Storm and Silence

ROBERT THIER'S STORM AND SILENCE


"In a world where women's only role in life is to sit at home and look pretty, Lilly is determined to fight for her freedom. There’s only one problem: a powerful man blocking her way."


   Miss Lillian Linton, known to her friends simply as Lily, is not your normal 19th century airhead debutante. No sir. This proud feminist is a strong advocator of women's rights, longing for the day when the "weaker" sex stands side by side with man, working for their own salary as doctors, lawyers, and secretaries.
   That day it seems, comes sooner than expected as Lily suddenly finds herself conversing with the powerful and mysterious Mr. Ambrose, dark dress pants covering all but the tips of her shoes.
  When she borrowed her uncle's old suit and stole away to the Justice building, she believed she would be coming home having cast a vote, not having shook hands with the devil.   
  Lily now has a job working as a secretary for potentially the most powerful man in Britain. There's just one tiny issue.
   When the truth of Lily's gender is revealed, She is allowed to keep her new position, on one condition. Mr. Ambrose had agreed to hire Mr. Linton and so it must be Mr. Linton who arrived for work each morning, meaning her uncle would have to do with one less suit for a while. 
  Lily is about to unravel the secrets of the stone faced businessman, secrets stretching far wider than she ever could have anticipated, secrets stretching to the far reaches of India and the East India Company.    
   Now she must foil her aunt's attempts to marry her off, run across roof tops, fend off an unwanted suitor, dance with the devil, interrogate a thief, scale the sides of buildings, charm a hotel manager, play matchmaker for her sister, defend women's rights, and deal with a grumpy Arabian bodyguard, all before her first paycheck.

  The plot of this book is unbelievable. The way the author writes the scenes is incredibly humorous, yet historically accurate. Lily is easily relatable for modern day women, yet she still accurately displays how a woman looking for equal rights would have behaved. (Okay, she may behave a little more, well, radically, than true females in that time period, but it makes for a more interesting read.)
  Told from Lily's POV, the reader really gets an inside look at what life was like for women during that time period. Women are seen as incapable in everything except keeping house, and even then the important decisions are left to the men. Forced to wear corsets so that their waists may appear unnaturally small, they are seen as nothing more than chess pieces. A prize to be won. A pact to solidify territorial gain.
   I love watching how Lily slowly changes Ambrose, cracking his rough exterior. But, even more than that, I love watching how Ambrose changes Lily, even though she doesn't realize that. They are perfect for one another AND IT'S DRIVING ME INSANE THAT THEY STILL HAVEN'T ADMITTED IT TO ONE ANOTHER.  


  This is an excerpt from the book, chapter 43 I believe, in which Lily is roaming around a ball with her younger sister Ella. They wind up in polite conversation with two gentlemen. Or at least, it was polite until one of the men felt obligated to share his opinion of women's suffrage.
  I wanted to share this piece as it has great insight as to how Lily's mind operates, while at the same time, showcasing humor and the seriousness of the rights of females during the 19th century.  

"Oh, no," said another gentleman. "I'm sure ladies wouldn't like to listen to our topic of conversation." bfbfbf
     "Nonsense," gentleman A overrode him. "These are no modern, unladylike females. I danced with this young lady," he inclined his head towards me, "myself, and she was a model of charm and modesty."
    How nice of you. And I thought you were the model of arrogance and stupidity.
    "Why, thank you, Sir," I said, curtsying. "If I may ask, what is it that you were talking of before we came?"
    Gentleman A leaned closer, and so did his companion. "Now I normally wouldn't be mentioning this in the hearing of any ladies. But I can see that you two are sensible, demure and well-bred young girls. So it's all right."
     I must admit, he had peaked my interest. I was always interested in knowing what a person like me wasn't supposed to know.
     "Go on," I encouraged.
     "Do you know what is going to happen next Wednesday?" gentleman A whispered.
     "No. What, Sir?"
     "There is going to be a meeting about this confound nonsense called women's suffrage."
     "Indeed, Sir?"
     "Aye. A few influential gentlemen with press contacts are going to meet with sympathetic scholars and scientists at Speaker's Corner in Hyde Park, and try to put a stop to this codswallop once and for all."
    "Indeed?"
    "Oh yes." Gentleman B nodded gravely. :Imagine ladies, that are actually man creatures that call themselves women and want to make decisions in politics!"
    I shook my head, solemnly. "You are joking? Can such individuals really exist?"
    Ella stared at me, her eyes wide. Then she blinked, and quickly turned back to the men. "As for my part," she ventured demurely, "I find politics incredibly complicated. I am very glad that I do not have to deal with them."
    Gentleman B nodded energetically, and smiled at Ella. "Exactly! This is what I was talking about. I can see you are sensible young girls who know their God-given place in the world, just as my friend said. So, no word about this to anyone, hmm?" He gave us what was supposed to be a fatherly smile. "It will remain our little secret."
    I smiled at him, brightly "You mean it would be bad if somebody found out about it?"
   "Oh yes." Gentleman B gave a vigorous nod. "If those infernal suffragists found out, they could use the meeting to spread their insane message."
   "Ah, I see. Well, every sensible person can see that such a thing must never happen."
    "Exactly," Gentleman A entered the conversation again. "Women's brains aren't big enough for politics."
    "Plus," added Gentleman B, they don't have the potential for violence that men have and that is the basis for all stable political systems, a fact that I have pointed out to Parliament on numerous occasions."
    My eyes flicked to Gentleman B.
   "So it was you who came op with that idea, was it?" 
   "Yes, indeed." He nodded proudly. "Why, have you heard of my theories on female vulnerability?" 
   "You could say that..." My eyes narrowed infinitesimally. He didn't seem to notice. "I wonder, Sir, if you would mind stepping into this side-room with me for five minutes. I have something important to demonstrate to you in regards to your theories." 
   "By all means. After you Miss." 
    Five minutes later, I re-entered the ballroom, my hair a bit ruffled, but otherwise perfectly fine. Ella was waiting for me.
   "Where is the gentleman who went with you?" she asked. 
   "He experienced a sudden desire to leave through the back door." I gestured to the side-room from which I had just emerged, a smile turning up one corner of my mouth. "I believe something in there might have scared him a little."