Make Your Way 6, Schulbuch mit Audio-CD und CD-ROM

Burning books 17 Books have been burnt in all countries and in all ages: In this way, totalitarian regimes attempted to stop the expression of ideas they didn’t like. In Ray Bradbury’s SF novel “Fahrenheit 451” (= the temperature at which bookpaper catches fire and burns), set in a future totalitarian America, books are burnt by firemen. At the beginning of the novel, the fireman Montag meets the girl Clarisse. A few pages later, the firemen (Montag, Captain Beatty and others) are called to a house which is owned by a woman who has a large library. When they enter the house, the woman throws dozens of books at them, and Montag – against instructions – hides one of the books on his body. Then the firemen start doing their job; they pump kerosene onto the books and try to get the woman away. And then Clarisse McClellan said: “Do you mind if I ask? How long have you worked as a fireman?” “Since I was twenty, ten years ago.” “Do you ever read any of the books you burn?” He laughed. “That’s against the law!” “Oh. Of course.” They walked still farther and the girl said, “Is it true that long ago firemen put fires out instead of going to start them?” “No. Houses have always been fireproof, take my word for it.” “Strange. I heard once that a long time ago houses used to burn by accident and they needed firemen to stop the flames.” He laughed. “You can’t ever have my books,” she said. “You know the law,” said Beatty. “Come on now!” She shook her head. “The whole house is going up,” said Beatty. The men walked clumsily to the door. They glanced back at Montag, who was standing near the woman. “You’re not leaving her?” he protested. “She won’t come.” “Force her, then!” Montag placed his hand on the woman’s elbow. “You can come with me.” “No,” she said. “Thank you, anyway.” “I’m counting to ten,” said Beatty. “One. Two.” “Please,” said Montag. “Go on,” said the woman. “Three. Four.” “Here.” Montag pulled at the woman. The woman replied quietly, “I want to stay here.” “Five. Six.” “You can stop counting,” she said. She opened the fingers of one hand slightly and in the palm of the hand was – an ordinary kitchen match. The woman’s hand twitched on the single matchstick. Montag felt the hidden book pound like a heart against his chest. “Go on,” said the woman and Montag felt himself back away out of the door, after Beatty, down the steps, across the lawn, where the path of kero- sene lay. On the front porch where she had come, the woman stood motionless. Beatty flicked his fingers to spark the kerosene. He was too late. Montag gasped. The woman on the porch struck the kitchen match … (Abridged) 64 Nur zu Prüfzwecken – Eigentum des Verlags öbv