a comparative analysis of social imaginaries
between Fahrenheit 451 (novel) and Me And You And Everyone We Know (film)
between Fahrenheit 451 (novel) and Me And You And Everyone We Know (film)
"Because you don't have to burn books, do you, if the world starts to fill up with nonreaders, nonlearners, nonknowers?"
- Ray Bradbury
Although two seemingly different worlds, there is an inherent poetry within the lines of Fahrenheit 451 and the film Me And You And Everyone We Know. Both center around the connections--and disconnections--in human interactions, including public sphere as well as the intimate spaces found within society. Both works acknowledge the range of human emotions and intellect; Ray Bradbury chooses to examine the effects of a limited range and point of view, and how detrimental it is to a decaying, "burning" society. Miranda July uses the film to glimpse at the possibilities of human connection, despite the awkwardness due to the vast range of emotion and intellect. Present as the primary foundation of Fahrenheit 451 is the firemen--burning of books and homes--which functions as an interesting spectacle. The rise of this notion (as attributed to Bakhtin) attributes to the society's public sphere and the affects it has on human interconnectedness. By using this goldfish scene from the film Me And You And Everyone We Know, we can contrast the social imaginaries as presented by director Miranda July in opposition to the social imaginaries which Montag, our hero fireman, is used to--used to, until the symbolic reference of the phoenix makes its appearance and shows him what it really means to burn.
Charles Taylor, author of the philosophical and historical work, Modern Social Imaginaries, focuses on the existence we as ordinary people live out from day to day. He argues within the first pages that "human beings are rational, sociable agents who are meant to collaborate in peace to their mutual benefit" (Taylor, 3). The society which Montag lives in, ironical, does just this: it was determined that the best way to "collaborate in peace to [everyone's] mutual benefit" was to limit the intellectual intake and lessen the range of human emotions. Beatty, Montag's Captain, even explains that the role of the fireman changed from putting out fires to starting: "[Firemen] were given the new job, as custodians of our peace of mind, the focus of our understandable and rightful dread of being inferior; official censors, judges, and executors" (Bradbury, 88). Beatty's sentiment echoes Taylor's concept of society. The world presented in Fahrenheit 451 is, indeed, a "functioning" society in which a minority of individuals disagree with. In fact, Montag at the beginning of the novel found an extreme level of enjoyment and simplicity with burning books. Beatty informs us that the people wanted to stay happy by banning books, intellectual superiority, etc.: "It didn't come from the government down...no censorship to start with, no!" (Bradbury, 87). Taylor reminds us that while "traditional law is a precondition of any common action," it is also true that the public sphere is "a locus in which rational views are elaborated [and] should guide government" (Taylor, 89). Technology was one of the factors in which people began to let their minds "drink less and less" (Bradbury, 87). This was to insure happiness; Beatty further explains that to keep the society happy, one must "cram them full of noncombustible data...they'll feel they're thinking...And they'll be happy" (Bradbury, 90 - 91). The world, indeed, begins to fill up with "non-learners" and "non-knowers," as Bradbury states in his introduction. Yet, as Beatty claims, all of the "non-knowers" of the world owe it not to the government, or to censorship, but to the theory which originally stated that knowing, and learning, was bad. Theory penetrates and transforms societies; "people take up, improvise, or are inducted into new practices" (Taylor, 29).
Charles Taylor, author of the philosophical and historical work, Modern Social Imaginaries, focuses on the existence we as ordinary people live out from day to day. He argues within the first pages that "human beings are rational, sociable agents who are meant to collaborate in peace to their mutual benefit" (Taylor, 3). The society which Montag lives in, ironical, does just this: it was determined that the best way to "collaborate in peace to [everyone's] mutual benefit" was to limit the intellectual intake and lessen the range of human emotions. Beatty, Montag's Captain, even explains that the role of the fireman changed from putting out fires to starting: "[Firemen] were given the new job, as custodians of our peace of mind, the focus of our understandable and rightful dread of being inferior; official censors, judges, and executors" (Bradbury, 88). Beatty's sentiment echoes Taylor's concept of society. The world presented in Fahrenheit 451 is, indeed, a "functioning" society in which a minority of individuals disagree with. In fact, Montag at the beginning of the novel found an extreme level of enjoyment and simplicity with burning books. Beatty informs us that the people wanted to stay happy by banning books, intellectual superiority, etc.: "It didn't come from the government down...no censorship to start with, no!" (Bradbury, 87). Taylor reminds us that while "traditional law is a precondition of any common action," it is also true that the public sphere is "a locus in which rational views are elaborated [and] should guide government" (Taylor, 89). Technology was one of the factors in which people began to let their minds "drink less and less" (Bradbury, 87). This was to insure happiness; Beatty further explains that to keep the society happy, one must "cram them full of noncombustible data...they'll feel they're thinking...And they'll be happy" (Bradbury, 90 - 91). The world, indeed, begins to fill up with "non-learners" and "non-knowers," as Bradbury states in his introduction. Yet, as Beatty claims, all of the "non-knowers" of the world owe it not to the government, or to censorship, but to the theory which originally stated that knowing, and learning, was bad. Theory penetrates and transforms societies; "people take up, improvise, or are inducted into new practices" (Taylor, 29).
Of course, it turns out that the means for happiness present in Fahrenheit 451 are just lies which mask a disturbing social imaginary. In order to understand the society Montag lives in, we must first understand what a social imaginary is. When using the term "social imaginaries," Taylor is an encompassing the following:
“...something much broader and deeper than the intellectual schemes...when [you] think about social reality in a disengaged mode. I am thinking, rather, of the ways people imagine their social existence, how they fit together with others, how things go on between them and their fellows, the expectations that are normally met, and the deeper normative notions and images that underlie these expectations."
(Taylor, 23)
As such, the history which Beatty described to Montag in the earlier paragraph is, essentially, a social imaginary. It is not a purely theoretical term due to the fact that "ordinary people 'imagine' their social surroundings" in a highly engaged--and less clinical--way (Taylor, 23). Knowing this, it becomes easy to analyze the social imaginary within Fahrenheit 451. Emptiness is prevalent within the society; when Montag enters his bedroom and finds his wife "asleep," he describes the room as "indeed empty." Mildred had been listening to the little radio Seashells--"an electronic ocean of sound"--as she slept (Bradbury, 42). When the seemingly janitorial men come in to revive Mildred from her attempted suicide, the machine they use "made her still more empty" (Bradbury, 43). The streets, avenues, boulevards, and even houses are "empty" (Bradbury, 42, 61, 99, 127, 130, 142, 146, 147, 152, 160). This repetitive description of setting serves as a beautiful metaphor of how void the world is when it comes to relationships. Mildred and Montag cannot even recall how they met, even though they have been married for ten years. Montag reflects on how empty their relationship really is by paralleling it to their parlor: there had always been a wall between the two of them, and "not just one wall, but, so far, three!" (Bradbury, 74). With the decrease of intelligence comes the decrease of technological content. The parlor walls--often referred to as the "family"--"said nothing, nothing, nothing and said it loud, loud, loud" (Bradbury, 74). The parlor walls infiltrated what Taylor calls the intimate sphere; it has become, quite literally, the locus of family life. Throughout this whole parlor scene, nothing substantial happens within the "family" and Mildred can't explain nor knows what is going on; there is simply a parade of sensations, colors, music and a lack of meaningful dialog between said "family." Later on in the novel, Montag returns to the family as he questions Mildred about love: " 'Millie? Does the White Clown love you?' No answer. 'Millie, does...your 'family' love you, love you very much, love you with with all their heart and soul, Millie?' " (Bradbury, 105). It is also noticed that Mildred was "an expert at lip-reading from ten years of apprenticeship at Seashell ear-thimbles" (Bradbury, 48), emphasizing the lack of communication between the married couple. Unfortunately, these "arts"--the radio Seashells, the parlor walls--no longer serve "as objects of aesthetic enjoyment, enriching the intimate sphere" (Taylor, 105). They instead increase the separation between people in this society, forcing them inside themselves in an act which isn't even the least bit introspective, but severely isolationist.
In extreme contrast to Fahrenheit 451, this scene in Me And You And Everyone We Know explores a different social reality. Clarisse, an outsider in Fahrenheit 451, would have fit in quite nicely with the social imaginaries displayed in this film. The cars are slower. There is time to reflect. People talk in moving vehicles. People talk to other people in moving vehicles by simply lowering the window. There is a collective community present in which everyone--including a goldfish--is a part of. And although this ideology does not stop the inevitable sadness, or death, it seems as though it would be a more preferable alternative for Clarisse, and later on, Montag. The two characters in the car, Michael and Christine, even hold a discussion on consumerism. Christine comments on the shoes she just bought: how she doesn't need them, how she can't believe she bought them, and how Michael bought into everything the shoe salesman said. These characters present a side very different from the characters in Fahrenheit 451; they critique their own actions, examine their realities, and question each others' thoughts. While it certainly doesn't reach the depths of being a deep, intellectual, wise conversation, Michael & Christine's conversation at least hits the tip of something deeper than what's on the television. Paralleling it to the novel, those capable of questioning their realities--Clarisse and her uncle, Montag, Beatty, Faber, Granger and the other intellectual outcasts--all are forced to live a different social reality than those with "normal" sensibilities. Through the eyes of Montag, we learn that Beatty actually wanted to die. Faber never goes outside, due to his intellectual status. Granger and the other professors are forced to live the life of outcasts. Clarisse, we can assume, meets the tragic end of getting hit by a speeding car. And Montag lives out the remainder of his life on the run, simply for choosing to question his own reality and looking outside of himself--and into the lives of books--for answers.
During the goldfish scene, a transformation occurs. At first, each individual driver and passenger are isolated from one another, caught in their own metallic hunk of a bubble. Soon, Michael notices the goldfish, and the highway becomes a topical common space ("[where] people are assembled for some purpose," Taylor, 86) in which "we're all together on this." Even though isolated by transportation, the characters in this scene "come to a common mind, without the...political sphere, in a discourse of reason outside power" (Taylor, 91). The motivation for all of the characters to attempt to save the goldfish predate a political logic. It becomes something done out of empathy; an action in which a group of people all collectively come to the same consensus due to experiencing a similar emotional and logical response. In Fahrenheit 451, Montag reflects back on a moment in his life where the potential for this type of human interconnectedness was possible:
During the goldfish scene, a transformation occurs. At first, each individual driver and passenger are isolated from one another, caught in their own metallic hunk of a bubble. Soon, Michael notices the goldfish, and the highway becomes a topical common space ("[where] people are assembled for some purpose," Taylor, 86) in which "we're all together on this." Even though isolated by transportation, the characters in this scene "come to a common mind, without the...political sphere, in a discourse of reason outside power" (Taylor, 91). The motivation for all of the characters to attempt to save the goldfish predate a political logic. It becomes something done out of empathy; an action in which a group of people all collectively come to the same consensus due to experiencing a similar emotional and logical response. In Fahrenheit 451, Montag reflects back on a moment in his life where the potential for this type of human interconnectedness was possible:
"One time, as a child, in a power failure, his mother had fond and lit a last candle and there had been a brief hour of rediscovery, of such illumination that space lost its vast dimensions and drew comfortably around them, and they, mother and son, alone, transformed, hoping that the power might not come on again too soon..."
(Bradbury, 37)
This memory shows that the potential for a deeper sense of human interaction can exist; and possibly still does, somewhere in the world. Clarisse further explores this experience alien to Montag by reflecting on front porches. She tells him her uncle thinks that people stopped building front porches because "they didn't want people sitting like that, doing nothing, rocking, talking; that was the wrong kind of social life. People talked too much. And they had time to think." (Bradbury, 93). It is the same argument used for increasing the speed limit. If the characters in Me And You And Everyone We Know had been speeding, the goldfish wouldn't have lasted as long as it did. There would be no reflection on Christine's part, no notice of the outside world on Micheal's part, and perhaps that little girl and her father would have never even remembered purchasing a goldfish in the first place.
Just as the characters of Me And You And Everyone We Know watched the demise of the goldfish, so did the neighbors watch houses burn in Fahrenheit 451. Unlike the goldfish scene, however, the flaming books and buildings give rise to the concept of a spectacle. Mikhail Bakhtin argues that unlike a carnival, a spectacle is a serious and uncreative event in which people are re-imprisoned within the existing world order. These spectacles "sanctioned the existing pattern of things and reinforced it" (Bakhtin, 686). The role of the firemen, then, was to aid in the spectacle of book burning. As Montag reflects, it is "always at night [when] the alarm comes. Never by day! Is it because fire is prettier by night? More spectacle, a better show?" (Bradbury, 69). This burning of books, this spectacle, served one purpose as a show for the neighbors: to assert "all that was stable, unchanging...it was a triumph of a truth already established, the predominant truth that was put forward as eternal and indisputable" (Bakhtin, 686). These spectacles strengthen the common perception within the public sphere of Fahrenheit 451's society: that books are bad, too much thought is dangerous, and that happiness lies within simple pleasures like parlors and speeding through town.
There are various, subtle turning points throughout the novel which build up and ultimately force Montag into the world of books. From meeting Clarisse, to Mildred's clinical revival--"Nobody knows anyone. Strangers come and violate you. Strangers come and cut your heart out. Strangers come and take your blood. Good God, who were those men? I never saw them before in my life!" (Bradbury, 46). He watches a woman burn to death, a woman who finds something so fascinating about learning, knowing, reading that she is willing to become a martyr over it. Montag ends up having to burn down his own house due to his criminal activity of reading. Much like the phoenix upon Beatty's hat, these moments of recognition cause Montag to examine the decay around him while simultaneously give birth to some greater feeling within Montag. The realization that Beatty had wanted to die, to escape from this society is born shortly after Montag is forced to burn him alive. The need to understand a book's impact rises out of the ashes of the martyr's burnt home and body. When Montag meets with Granger and the rest of the professors, the birth of a new meaning for fire comes: the fire the outcasts were standing around was strange because "it was not burning, it was warming" (Bradbury, 171).
There are various, subtle turning points throughout the novel which build up and ultimately force Montag into the world of books. From meeting Clarisse, to Mildred's clinical revival--"Nobody knows anyone. Strangers come and violate you. Strangers come and cut your heart out. Strangers come and take your blood. Good God, who were those men? I never saw them before in my life!" (Bradbury, 46). He watches a woman burn to death, a woman who finds something so fascinating about learning, knowing, reading that she is willing to become a martyr over it. Montag ends up having to burn down his own house due to his criminal activity of reading. Much like the phoenix upon Beatty's hat, these moments of recognition cause Montag to examine the decay around him while simultaneously give birth to some greater feeling within Montag. The realization that Beatty had wanted to die, to escape from this society is born shortly after Montag is forced to burn him alive. The need to understand a book's impact rises out of the ashes of the martyr's burnt home and body. When Montag meets with Granger and the rest of the professors, the birth of a new meaning for fire comes: the fire the outcasts were standing around was strange because "it was not burning, it was warming" (Bradbury, 171).
When the goldfish falls, each character takes a moment to reflect on his or her own sadness in Me And You And Everyone We Know. Mrs. Phelps, the woman who cries during Montag's reading of "Dover Beach," isn't even allowed her moment of sadness before Mildred and her friends rush her out of the house. This lack of human relations, of expression and knowledge and experience within Fahrenheit 451, is mirrored in the social imaginaries of said world. The public sphere Montag belongs to is vastly foreign to Christine and Michael's common space within the film. The notion of public spectacles, of book burning and putting flames to houses, furthers the common consensus of Montag's society of "non-learners" and "non-knowers." In both works, the death of one causes a birth of consciousness in another; whether literal (as the goldfish) or metaphorical (like the phoenix), characters like Montag, Clarisse, Christine, and Michael are able to transcend the public sphere of apparent isolation and tap into an experience where they might die knowing that they were loved.
Works Cited
Taylor, Charles. Modern Social Imaginaries. Duke University Press, 2005.
Bradbury, Ray. Fahrenheit 451. New York, NY: Simon & Schuster Inc. 1951.
Me And You And Everyone We Know. Dir: Miranda July. IFC Films. 2005.
Rivkin, Julie and Michael Ryan. Literary Theory: An Anthology. "Rabelais and His World" by Mikhail Bakhtin. Blackwell Publishing Ltd. 2004.
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