Part One, Reading 4 · The Hearth and the Salamander — Teaching Companion

This chapter's big question

Montag starts to cry at the thought that he would not cry if Mildred died. Is he grieving for her, or for himself?

The tension To Mildred the burning is “water under the bridge” and his sickness calls for a mop, “It’s a good thing the rug’s washable”; to Montag it is “No, not water: fire,” a fire that will “last me the rest of my life.”

Today's focus

Montag hides the stolen book under his pillow and lies awake beside a wife who cannot remember where they met. By noon he is sick, afraid to go to work, and trying to tell Mildred what the burning did to him.

The shape at a glance

Montag comes home in the dark with the stolen book and will not turn on the light. He shoves the book under his pillow and lies across the room from Mildred, who talks on until she comes to his bed and finds his face wet. Late in the night, with her Seashell in her ear, she seems a stranger to him. He asks where they first met; neither of them can remember, and she says it doesn’t matter. He hears her swallowing in the bathroom, remembers the two technicians standing over her last week, and remembers thinking he would not cry if she died; now he cries at the thought of not crying. He thinks of the parlour walls, three of them now, full of “relatives” who shout and settle nothing, and of Mildred driving at a hundred and five while neither can hear the other. He pulls a Seashell from her ear and asks about Clarisse. Mildred says she meant to tell him: she thinks the girl was run over by a car four days ago and the family has moved away. She is not sure, and she forgot. Outside, something seems to breathe on the window. Montag thinks it is the Hound and does not open the window. In the morning he has chills and fever. Mildred is slow with the aspirin and says she will turn the parlour down, then does nothing to it. When the smell of kerosene makes him sick on the floor and he tells her they burned an old woman with her books, she fetches a mop. He cannot call Beatty, because he is afraid. He asks how it would be if he quit for a while; Mildred says the woman was nothing to her and fears they will lose the house. Montag says the woman’s fire will last him the rest of his life, that for the first time he sees a man behind each book, and that people need to be really bothered. Then he remembers last week, and a Mildred so deep inside this one that the two have never met, and he turns away.

A way in

Before reading, ask the student what they would want to remember about the day they met their closest friend, and whether it would matter if they forgot. Read aloud from the opening to “No, I guess not,” and stop: ask what the night has been like so far for each of them. Read on through the walls, the car and the news about Clarisse to “He did not open the window.” and stop again: ask what Montag hears in the house and outside it. Read the morning to the end without stopping. Name the old woman’s death plainly as what Montag cannot put out of his mind, and do not dwell on it. Do not say that Clarisse is certainly dead, or how; Mildred is “not sure. Pretty sure.” Do not say why Mildred takes the pills, that the shape outside is the Hound, what the hidden book says, or that Montag will quit; the reading says none of these.

Lesson plan

Retell The student tells the reading back in three parts. First the dark bedroom: the book under the pillow, Mildred’s talk and her hand on his wet cheek, the meeting neither can remember, the swallowing, and the tears. Then what Montag thinks of as he lies there and what comes next: the parlour walls and their “relatives,” the car at a hundred and five, the Seashell he pulls out, the news about Clarisse, and the window he does not open. Last, the morning: the fever, the parlour, the aspirin, the rug, Dante and Swift and Marcus Aurelius, the call to Beatty he cannot make, the talk of quitting, “water under the bridge,” the man behind each book, and the other Mildred. Ask for three or four sentences for each part, in order.

Imitate the author After copying, the student writes four sentences built like the first passage, about a feeling that spreads through someone’s body: a sentence that says where it started, a long one that follows it from place to place with “and” and ends on a comparison, a sentence of four words, and a last one that ends on three words that each grow bigger. Then three sentences built like the second passage: a short one that places one person beside another, a long one that lists five things about that person, set off by commas with “and” only before the last, and a short one that closes it.

Debate Take sides on the last written question. First make two lists together. Reasons he grieves for her: he counts her swallows and wants to call out to her; he remembers the technicians standing over her “not bent with concern”; he sees “the hungry snake” make her “still more empty”; he pulls out her Seashell to reach her; at the end he remembers a Mildred “so bothered, really bothered.” Reasons he grieves for himself: he cries “not at death but at the thought of not crying at death”; he calls himself “a silly empty man”; he cannot remember where they met either; he “could remember her no other way”; he asks, “how can I leave myself alone?” One side argues each, with a reason and a line from the reading, then they switch. Neither side may say why Mildred takes the pills, or make her shallow and nothing more.

Purpose Close on where the reading stops: “He turned away.” Ask why Bradbury ends with Montag turning away just after he sees the other Mildred, and not on anything he says to her. Then set the opening beside it: in the dark, Mildred came across the room to his bed and touched his face. Ask who reaches toward whom in this reading, and when. If there is time, set Mildred’s “That’s water under the bridge.” beside Montag’s answer, “No, not water: fire.”, and ask what each of them wants to do with the night of the burning.

Three levels

Easier Read aloud together from “Late in the night he looked over at Mildred.” to “No, I guess not,” and talk through the second discussion question (what Montag hopes to find out when he asks where they met). Then read the paragraph that begins “He tried to count how many times she swallowed” and ends “made her still more empty.” Answer the last written question aloud, starting from what Montag once thought he would not do if Mildred died, and what he does instead.

On level Talk through the five discussion questions in order, then have the student write answers to both written questions in complete sentences: a claim, two pieces of evidence from different parts of the reading, and an answer to the strongest objection.

Harder Ask the student to write the last written question as an argument: a claim, the strongest reason against it, and an answer to that reason. Then set two moments side by side. Montag is upset that Mildred forgot to tell him about Clarisse for four days; a little later he thinks the Hound is outside, and “He did not open the window.” Ask whether not looking is the same as forgetting. The answer must not say that the shape outside is the Hound; Montag only thinks so.

Discussion

1. In the dark, Mildred feels Montag’s wet cheek. She never says a word about his tears. Why not?Character

What it asks It asks the student about a silence at the start of the reading. Montag comes home in the dark and will not turn on the light. Mildred asks, “Are you drunk?” and talks on for a long while, and he makes only small sounds. Then she gets up, comes to his bed, and puts “her hand down to feel his cheek.” When she pulls it away, it is wet. She says nothing about it, that night or the next day. At noon she says only, “But you were all right last night,” and “You acted funny last night.” The student decides why she never speaks of his tears. It takes up one part of the last written question: Montag will soon call them both empty, and here Mildred meets his grief with her hand and not her words. Do not make Mildred shallow and nothing more; she is the one who crosses the room. Do not say why she takes the pills later; the reading never gives her reasons.

A strong answer A strong response might say she does not know what to say, so she does something instead: she crosses the room to “put her hand down to feel his cheek,” and the next day her way of asking is “You acted funny last night.” Another might say she does not want to know: soon “her Seashell was tamped in her ear again,” and at noon she tells him, “But you were all right last night.” A careful answer may notice that Montag keeps quiet too. When she asks, “Did something happen?”, he says only, “A fire, is all.”

2. Montag cannot think what to say to Mildred. Then he asks her where they first met. What does he hope to find out?Inference

What it asks It asks the student why, of all things, Montag asks this. Lying awake late in the night, he thinks of buying a Seashell station of his own to talk to his wife, and then cannot think what he would say: “What could he say?” Suddenly she seems “so strange he couldn’t believe he knew her at all,” and he thinks of the joke about the drunk man who goes home to the wrong house and a stranger, “and neither of them the wiser.” Then he whispers, “When did we meet. And where?” Mildred cannot remember, and neither can he. Knowing becomes “more important than any other thing in a life-time.” Mildred says, “It doesn’t matter,” and he says, “No, I guess not.” The student decides what Montag hoped the question would tell him. It takes up one part of the last written question: a few lines later he remembers thinking that her death would be “the dying of an unknown, a street face.” Do not make Mildred shallow and nothing more for forgetting; he has forgotten too. Do not say why she takes the pills.

A strong answer A strong response might say he wants to know whether she is a stranger: she seems “so strange he couldn’t believe he knew her at all,” as if “He was in someone else’s house,” and the first meeting would prove the marriage is real. Another might say he wants something to say: he has just asked himself, “What could he say?”, and the day they met is the one thing they should share. That is why knowing it becomes “more important than any other thing in a life-time.” A careful answer may notice that what he finds out is about himself as well, since he cannot remember either, and that a few lines later he pictures her death as “the dying of an unknown.”

3. The thunder fades and the music dies. “There,” Mildred tells him. What has the parlour done for her?Theme

What it asks It asks the student to see the parlour from Mildred’s side. Lying awake, Montag remembers an evening with the walls. The “relatives” shout, “Something must be done!”, but Mildred cannot say what it is all about; she will “wait around and see.” Then “A great thunderstorm of sound” pours from the walls. Montag feels thrown from a cliff and dropped down a waterfall into “emptiness and emptiness.” When the music dies, Mildred says one word, “There,” and stays in her chair. Nothing has been settled, yet “Something had happened.” Montag comes out “sweating and on the point of collapse.” The student decides what the parlour gives her. It takes up one part of the last written question: just before this memory, Montag asks himself, “How do you get so empty?” and “Who takes it out of you?” Do not make Mildred shallow and nothing more; ask what she gets from the parlour, not only what it costs her.

A strong answer A strong response might say it gives her the feeling that something happened: she cannot say what the fight is about and will only “wait around and see,” but when the storm of sound ends, “Something had happened.” Another might say it empties her: it works like “a washing-machine” or “a gigantic vacuum,” and what Montag feels as a fall “into emptiness and emptiness” is hers every evening. A careful answer may notice that the passage says both, that something happened and that “nothing had really been settled,” and ask whether that is what Montag means by empty.

4. Mildred thinks Clarisse may be dead. Montag answers, “We couldn’t be talking about the same girl.” Why does he answer like that?Character

What it asks It asks the student about Montag’s first answer to bad news. He asks Mildred about “The girl next door.” She asks, “What girl?” and “What girl next door?”, then says, “Oh, I know the one you mean.” She meant to tell him and forgot. She thinks the whole family moved out, and “I think she’s dead.” Montag answers, “We couldn’t be talking about the same girl.” Mildred says, “No. The same girl. McClellan.” and tells him what she has heard. The student decides why Montag says it cannot be the same girl. It takes up one part of the last written question: here Montag meets a possible death, and the student watches how he takes it. Do not say that Clarisse is dead or how she died; Mildred is “not sure. Pretty sure.” Do not make Mildred shallow and nothing more for forgetting; a few minutes earlier Montag could not remember where they met.

A strong answer A strong response might say he cannot take the news in: saying “We couldn’t be talking about the same girl” keeps her alive a moment longer, until Mildred answers, “No. The same girl. McClellan.” Another might say he is right in a way: Mildred had to ask, “What girl next door?”, and the girl she knows is a family that “moved out somewhere,” while Montag has counted the days since he saw her, “four days to be exact.” A careful answer may notice that the reading ends on two Mildreds who “had never met,” and ask whether this husband and wife ever talk about the same person.

5. Mildred goes out to turn the parlour down. She does nothing to it and asks, “Is that better?” He says, “Thanks.” What is he thanking her for?Tone

What it asks It asks the student about one small word at noon. Montag is sick in bed, and the “relatives” are shouting in the parlour. He asks, “Will you turn the parlour off?” Mildred says, “That’s my family.” He asks again, “for a sick man,” and she says, “I’ll turn it down.” She goes out, does nothing to the parlour, and comes back: “Is that better?” He says, “Thanks.” Then she tells him it is her favourite programme. The student decides what Montag is thanking her for, when nothing has changed. It takes up one part of the last written question: whether Montag, too, joins in the empty talk of the house. Treat his fever as real, and note that he is also afraid; he says so to himself a little later. Do not make Mildred shallow and nothing more.

A strong answer A strong response might say he thanks her for asking: he knows nothing has changed, but he is sick, he has closed “his eyes over the hotness,” and, as in the dark when he said “No, I guess not,” he gives in. Another might say he thanks her for nothing and may not know it: she “did nothing to the parlour,” yet in this house “the walls were always talking,” so he cannot hear the difference, and “Thanks” is just what you say. A careful answer may notice that a few minutes later he says, “Yes, the bunch, the bunch, the bunch,” and ask whether Montag is starting to hear the empty talk in his own mouth.

Critical thinking

1. Mildred says he should have thought of that before he became a fireman. Montag asks, “Was I given a choice?” Was he?

What it asks It asks the student to judge Montag’s defence of himself. Montag tells Mildred the old woman’s fire will last him “the rest of my life.” She answers, “You should have thought of that before becoming a fireman.” He says, “Thought!” and then, “Was I given a choice? My grandfather and father were firemen. In my sleep, I ran after them.” Earlier that morning he cannot call Captain Beatty; “Because you’re afraid,” he thinks. He asks her, “how would it be if, well, maybe, I quit my job awhile?” Soon he says that last night he thought about “all the kerosene I’ve used in the past ten years,” and that he had “never even thought that thought before.” The student writes a judgment with evidence, in complete sentences, and answers the strongest case for the other side. It takes up one part of the last written question: whether the empty man Montag sees in himself is someone things were done to, or someone who did them. Do not say that Montag will quit; he only asks how it would be. Do not take his claims about books as proven; his reasons are feelings so far.

A strong answer A strong response takes a position and tests it. A student might argue he had no real choice: “My grandfather and father were firemen. In my sleep, I ran after them,” and even now he is too afraid to call in sick. Another might argue he did: he can ask “how would it be if, well, maybe, I quit my job awhile?”, so the door was always there, and the kerosene of “the past ten years” was his own to pour. A careful answer may notice that he answers Mildred’s “thought” with “Thought!” and has just said he had “never even thought that thought before,” and ask whether not thinking is the same as not choosing.

2. Montag starts to cry at the thought that he would not cry if Mildred died. Is he grieving for her, or for himself?

What it asks This is the last question the student meets, and it gathers the earlier ones: why Mildred never says a word about his tears, what Montag hopes to find out when he asks where they met, what the parlour has done for Mildred, why Montag says they couldn’t be talking about the same girl, what he is thanking her for when she has done nothing to the parlour, and whether he was given a choice about becoming a fireman. Now the student judges Montag’s tears. Lying in the dark, he counts Mildred’s swallows and remembers the two technicians standing over her last week, “not bent with concern.” He remembers thinking then that if she died he would not cry, because she would be “an unknown, a street face, a newspaper image.” And he begins to cry, “not at death but at the thought of not crying at death, a silly empty man near a silly empty woman.” The student writes a judgment with evidence, in complete sentences, and answers the strongest objection. Do not say why Mildred takes the pills; the reading shows Montag counting her swallows, never her reasons. Do not make Mildred shallow and nothing more: she touched his wet cheek in the dark, and the reading ends on “another Mildred” deep inside, “so bothered, really bothered.”

A strong answer A strong response takes a position and tests it. A student might argue he grieves for her: he counts her swallows, wants “to call out to her,” and watches “the hungry snake” make her “still more empty,” and at the end he remembers a Mildred “so bothered, really bothered.” Another might argue he grieves for himself: he cries “not at death but at the thought of not crying at death,” calls himself “a silly empty man,” cannot remember where he met his wife, and “could remember her no other way.” A careful answer may notice that he asks “How do you get so empty?” just after calling them both empty, and ask whether he can grieve for her without grieving for what he has become.