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Fahrenheit 451Reinforcing Figurative Languageand Literary Elements throughAuthor’s Purpose and DictionMonday, August 17

BellworkDaily LanguageReviewIn a paragraph ormore, answer thequestions:What is close reading?How do we do it?What are we lookingfor as we read?

Check your answers

New Vocabulary 451List 1

Fahrenheit 451Vocabulary 1These words will be on your test.You are responsible for defining the remainingwords. Any of the words may be on the test.

1ballisticsthe study ofprojectiles or firearms

2bestiallacking human feelingof pity or remorse

3cacophonyan unpleasantcombination of sounds

4centrifugea device thatseparates substances

5fathomsdepths of water

6feigningfaking; pretending

7jargonlanguage used bya specialized group

8marionettea wooden puppet

9mausoleuma large tomb

10objectivityability to view things withoutemotion or prejudice

11olfactoryrelating to thesense of smell

12proclivitiesnatural tendencies tobehave in a certain way

13stratumseveral layers ofsomething, usually land

14torrenta powerful rush ofwater

15waftto float gentlythrough the air

Tuesday is Test Day!451introduction

Fahrenheit 451 Createa flipbook!

Fold a piece of black paper(hamburger style)Like a bookMake flamesthat are big enough to write on

Make sure you can use the flames totake notes - then affix them to your bookby the bottom only so that they flip open

Usethe flip bookto hold your noteson figurativelanguageexamples

Fahrenheit 451 Aswe readthe first 10pages of 451,take notes onthe flames.

Fahrenheit 451 Dystopian Novel Ray Bradbury 1953 Futuristic setting Autoignition point of paper

Fahrenheit 451 Symbolism Other figurative language

Fahrenheit 451 The Hearth and the Salamander The Sieve and the Sand Burning Bright

Fahrenheit 451 Characterization Direct vs Indirect Symbols again

Fahrenheit 451 Prophetic Plot and Author’s Purpose

First impressions Irony in the first line Firemen Setting Apathy

PART IIT WAS A PLEASURE TO BURNIT was a special pleasure to see thingseaten, to see things blackened andchangedPage 1

These slides have WAAAY toomany words on themRead the book in front of youUse the wordy slides foronline notes

With the brass nozzle in his fists, withthis great python spitting its venomouskerosene upon the world, the bloodpounded in his head, and his hands werethe hands of some amazing conductorplayingall the symphonies of blazing andburning to bring down the tatters andcharcoal ruins of history.What Figurative Language do you see?Why is he burning?

With his symbolic helmet numbered 451 on hisstolid head, and his eyes all orange flame withthe thought of what came next, he flicked theigniter and the house jumped up in a gorging firethat burned the evening sky red and yellow andblack. He strode in a swarm of fireflies. Hewanted above all, like the old joke, to shove amarshmallow on a stick in the furnace, while theflapping pigeon-winged books died on the porchand lawn of the house. While the books went upin sparkling whirls and blew away on a windturned dark with burning.Figurative Language?What is he burning?

Montag grinned the fierce grin of all men singed and driven back by flame.He knew that when he returned to the firehouse, he might wink at himself,a minstrel man, burntcorked, in the mirror. Later, going to sleep, he wouldfeel the fiery smile still gripped by his face muscles, in the dark. It neverwent away, that. smile, it never ever went away, as long as he remembered.He hung up his black-beetle-coloured helmet and shined it, he hung hisflameproof jacket neatly; he showered luxuriously, and then, whistling,hands in pockets, walked across the upper floor of the fire station and felldown the hole. At the last moment, when disaster seemed positive, hepulled his hands from his pockets and broke his fall by grasping the goldenpole. He slid to a squeaking halt, the heels one inch from the concrete floordownstairs. He walked out of the fire station and along the midnight streettoward the subway where the silent, air-propelled train slid soundlesslydown its lubricated flue in the earth and let him out with a great puff ofwarm air an to the cream-tiled escalator rising to the suburb.Figurative Language?Who is he?Where does he work?

Whistling, he let the escalator waft himinto the still night air. He walkedtoward the corner, thinking little at allabout nothing in particular. Before hereached the corner, however, he slowedas if a wind had sprung up fromnowhere, as if someone had called hisname.Figurative Language?Characterization?Diction?Apathy.

The last few nights he had had the most uncertain feelings about the sidewalkjust around the corner here, moving in the starlight toward his house. He hadfelt that a moment before his making the turn, someone had been there. The airseemed charged with a special calm as if someone had waited there, quietly, andonly a moment before he came, simply turned to a shadow and let him through.Perhaps his nose detected a faint perfume, perhaps the skin on the backs of hishands, on his face, felt the temperature rise at this one spot where a person’sstanding might raise the immediate atmosphere ten degrees for an instant. Therewas no understanding it. Each time he made the turn, he saw only the white,unused, buckling sidewalk, with perhaps, on one night, something vanishingswiftly across a lawn before he could focus his eyes or speak.But now, tonight, he slowed almost to a stop. His inner mind, reaching out toturn the corner for him, had heard the faintest whisper. Breathing? Or was theatmosphere compressed merely by someone standing very quietly there,waiting?He turned the corner.Figurative Language?Foreshadowing?

The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such away as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to asliding walk, letting the motion of the wind and the leavescarry her forward. Her head was half bent to watch her shoesstir the circling leaves. Her face was slender and milk-white,and in it was a kind of gentle hunger that touched overeverything with tireless curiosity. It was a look, almost, ofpale surprise; the dark eyes were so fixed to the world that nomove escaped them. Her dress was white and it whispered.He almost thought he heard the motion of her hands as shewalked, and the infinitely small sound now, the white stir ofher face turning when she discovered she was a moment awayfrom a man who stood in the middle of thepavement waiting.Characterization

What do we know about color symbols? What about “whispered”? Symbolic eyes? What do all of these things tell us about this girl? How does that contrast with Montag?

The trees overhead made a great sound ofletting down their dry rain.Figurative Language?Literal Meaning?Setting?Symbolic?

The girl stopped and looked as if shemight pull back in surprise, but insteadstood regarding Montag with eyes so darkand shining and alive, that he felt he hadsaid something quite wonderful. But heknew his mouth had only moved to sayhello,Her effect on Montag?Diction and Syntax?

and then when she seemed hypnotized by the salamanderonhis arm and the phoenix-disc on his chest, he spoke again."Of course," he said, "you're a new neighbour, aren't you?""And you must be"-she raised her eyes from hisprofessional symbols-"the fireman." Her voicetrailed off."How oddly you say that.""I'd-I'd have known it with my eyes shut," she said,slowly."What-the smell of kerosene? My wife always complains,"he laughed. "You never wash it offcompletely.""No, you don't," she said, in awe.Use of dialogue?

He felt she was walking in acircle about him, turning himend for end, shaking himquietly, andemptying his pockets, withoutonce moving herself.Her effect on Montag?

"Kerosene," he said, because the silence hadlengthened, "is nothing but perfume to me.""Does it seem like that, really?""Of course. Why not?"She gave herself time to think of it. "I don'tknow." She turned to face the sidewalk goingtowardtheir homes. "Do you mind if I walk back withyou? I'm Clarisse McClellan.""Clarisse. Guy Montag. Come along. What areyou doing out so late wandering around? Howold are you?"Dialogue

First block stopped hereMonday, August 17th

They walked in the warm-cool blowing nighton the silvered pavement and there was thefaintest breath of fresh apricots andstrawberries in the air, and he looked aroundand realized this was quite impossible, so latein the year.There was only the girl walking with him now,her face bright as snow in the moonlight, andhe knew she was working his questionsaround, seeking the best answers she couldpossibly give. an interjection in the dialogue - Why?

Whatdid we learn aboutspring and “breath” in theair when we read “Story ofan Hour”? Whatcould it be here?

Sheonly nowanswers hisquestion. Whydoes the authordo that?

They walked on again in silence andfinally she said, thoughtfully, "Youknow, I'm not afraid of you at all."He was surprised. "Why should yoube?""So many people are. Afraid offiremen, I mean. But you're just a man,after all."Why are people afraid?Why is he surprised?

He saw himself in her eyes, suspended in two shining drops ofbright water, himself dark and tiny, in fine detail, the linesabout his mouth, everything there, as if her eyes were twomiraculous bits of violet amber that might capture and holdhim intact. Her face, turned to him now, was fragile milkcrystal with a soft and constant light in it. It was not thehysterical light of electricity but-what? But the strangelycomfortable and rare and gently flattering light of the candle.One time, when he was a child, in a power-failure, his motherhad found and lit a last candle and there had been a brief hourof rediscovery, of such illumination that space lost its vastdimensions and drew comfortably around them, and they,mother and son, alone, transformed, hoping that the powermight not come on again too soon .

Eyes again symbolIt was not the hysterical light of electricity but-what? But thestrangely comfortable and rare and gently flattering light of thecandle.CONTRASTa brief hour of rediscovery, of such illumination that space lostits vast dimensions and drew comfortably around them, andthey, mother and son, alone, transformed, hoping that thepower might not come on again too soonCONNOTATION

Third block stopped here

"Do you mind if I ask? How long have you worked at being a fireman?""Since I was twenty, ten years ago.""Do you ever read any of the books you bum?"He laughed. "That's against the law!""Oh. Of course.""It's fine work. Monday bum Millay, Wednesday Whitman, FridayFaulkner, burn 'em to ashes,then bum the ashes. That's our official slogan."They walked still further and the girl said, "Is it true that long ago firemenput fires out instead ofgoing 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 accidentand they neededfiremen to stop the flames."He laughed.She glanced quickly over. "Why are you laughing?""I don't know." He started to laugh again and stopped "Why?"

"I don't know." He started tolaugh again and stopped"Why?""You laugh when I haven't beenfunny and you answer right off.You never stop to think whatI've asked you."Never stop to think .

He stopped walking, "You are an odd one," he said,looking at her. "Haven't you any respect?""I don't mean to be insulting. It's just, I love to watchpeople too much, I guess.""Well, doesn't this mean anything to you?" He tappedthe numerals 451 stitched on his charcolouredsleeve."Yes," she whispered. She increased her pace. "Haveyou ever watched the jet cars racing on theboulevards down that way?"You're changing the subject!"

Earlierhe was surprised people wereafraid - now he’s tapping his badge Why Paymight she “change the subject”?attention to pacing Heanswers right off Driver’sdrive quickly