A Burning Love

Author's Note: This piece is my first response to Fahrenheit 451. I responded to a prompt asking to compare and contrast Clarisse and Mildred. I decided to focus on using examples of symbolism from the book to strengthen my points within the response. As always, I used lots of text evidence so I could better analyze the novel. I made sure to take my time with addressing each quote, and not rush or simply list them. At certain points, I noticed that I almost have a poetic, artistic sound in some of my sentences, and I tried to keep this constant throughout the piece. I made sure not to not drift into scientific or academic vocabulary.

 … if she died, he was certain he wouldn't cry. For it would be the dying of an unknown, a street face, a newspaper image,  and it was suddenly so very wrong that he had begun to cry, not at death but at the very thought of not crying at death, a silly empty man near a silly empty woman, while the hungry snake made her still more empty. (p 44)

The way in which Montag addresses Mildred, and even the way in which he reminisces about Mildred, is that of a complete and utter stranger. If one were to take Montag's dialogue about his wife out of text, the matrimonial relationship they obtain would never be perceived. For his emotions towards Mildred are long deceased, and he no longer knows the woman who sleeps at his side every night. Montag begins to realize that he is losing her, losing touch with her, like sand running through a sieve. In Montag's tenebrous and dreary world, he is drowning in dark, black ashes, until a beautiful stranger ignites a fire that will forever burn in his heart -- a love he cannot extinguish.

From the very first sighting of Clarisse McCellan, she breaths life back into Montag's soul with each and every word she whispers. Even in the darkness of the night, he sees her in nothing less than a great light, as if she were the only thing lit by the moon itself. "Laughter blew across the moon-colored lawn from the house of Clarisse. " (p 17) The very language Bradbury uses to elucidate the color of Clarisse and everything that surrounds her is angelic -- her skin a milk-white, her eyes two miraculous bits of violet amber, her skin fragile milk crystal with a soft, constant light, her body wrapped in a simple white dress. Clarisse becomes a bright splendor in a dying world.

Once Montag arrives home, back to his black-ash world, he finds his wife laying lifeless in bed, sea shells embedded in her ears, the waves of her imaginary ocean sweeping her further out to sea. It is as clear as Montag's reflection in Clarisse's eyes that she is not much more than another confusing, incomprehensible, disappointing aspect of his life. "Montag sank down into a chair and looked at this woman … he put out his hand to feel the warmness of breath on his palm … There are too many of us, he thought ... Nobody knows anyone. Strangers come and violate you. Strangers come and cut your heart out." (p 16) He is so detached from Mildred, so uncertain of her presence, Montag must hold out his hand to feel her breath, to test for life of "this woman" he is married to. Did Mildred simply violate him, violate his life, take his heart out cold? These men drained her blood, stole her soul -- she is nothing but an artificial version of herself. Who is this woman before him? Who is Montag to love now? The men might as well have drained her heart and taken that with them too, for there was no longer any love shared between the two. "Some one else's blood there. If only someone else's flesh and brain and memory." (p 16)

All of these issues Montag faces when present with Mildred, all of his concerns disappear for just a moment when he is accompanied by Clarisse. Suddenly, he is no longer just a husband, or a fireman; all of his labels are erased. For once in Montag's life all of his badges are removed. Clarisse digs deep inside of Montag, revealing an entirely new person, leaving him feeling bare, and hopelessly revealed. "He felt she was walking in a circle about him, turning him end for end, shaking him quietly, and emptying his pockets, without once moving herself. " (p 6) Her questions instantly spark interest within Montag, questions he had never considered, much less heard of. Intrigued by this angelic force, he is captivated, and can't resist her enchanting presence. The ways of  Clarisse, everything she does, says, is now relevant -- all of it. She opens up an entirely new world for Montag, a tranquil universe that brings life to his soul." 'The rain feels good … Rain even tastes good' ... And she ran off and left him standing there in the rain …  he tilted his head back in the rain, for just a few moments, and opened his mouth . . ." (p  24)