The entire west face of the house was black, save for five places. Only as the story moves the reader to home’s exterior do we learn what has happened to the McClellan family who once lived in the home: With the emergence of The Internet of Things, we have gained the ability to our homes control the temperature, monitor the front door, let us know when we are low on milk, and even feed out pets. This world is not unfamiliar to us today. The story opens with the automated house starting its morning routine: a synthetic voice chimes, “Seven o’clock, time to get up,” while breakfast is prepared by the kitchen. The reader is simply shown a world where technology has continued without humanity, a world indifferent to our absence. What’s most interesting about Bradbury’s short story is presents the future as neither a dystopian or utopia.
Ian Malcolm, succinctly articulates this tension – science is about the “could” and does not consider the “should.” Science fiction has then an either-or/zero-sum approach to technological advancement. A great example of this comes in Jurassic Park (1996): in a twist on the Frankenstein-motif, scientist genetically resurrect dinosaurs, who ultimately take over the theme park.
Much of science fiction has been devoted to problematizing our belief that technology is inherently beneficial to humanity. In “August 2026: There Will Come Soft Rains,” Ray Bradbury reveals the danger in my new morning routine. Without thinking, she'd jotted down the west Los Angeles address and eagerly hopped in her green hatchback to seek it out.I have to confess, the most luxurious, decadent purchase I have made in the past 3 years has been an automatic grind-and-brew coffee maker! Being able to walk downstairs smelling the freshly brewed coffee and having my cup ready has transformed my mornings. She pored over every detail of the real estate section, hoping to glean some kind of secret about the late author's home located in the historic Cheviot Hills neighborhood where the likes of Lucille Ball, Stan Laurel, and other Hollywood greats once resided. When she'd first read the LA Times article announcing that the esteemed author's house was up for sale, wonky bookshelves, ancient kitchen, claustrophobic basement, and all, Mia wanted nothing more than to get inside that house. He had seemed to care about stories more than any author she'd come across, and that's what Mia found most endearing. He was someone who was driven by his love of books. Her own house, yes, but more than that, a house that for the past fifty years belonged to Ray Bradbury, science fiction and fantasy writer, poet, and literary genius. At thirty-eight years old, she had finally purchased her first house.
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