As I look back over the last fifty years of my work in architecture, I can’t help but think about the time I visited the Century of Progress World’s Fair in Chicago in 1933. I was twelve, and as I wandered about that incredible city they had constructed, I fell in love with the future. And after I left the fair, I went home to the small Illinois town where I lived and in the backyard of my parents’ home, I constructed buildings out of paper and cardboard, not knowing that thirty years forward, in my own future, I would start my architectural work helping to build another World’s Fair, the 1964 New York World’s Fair, thus beginning my career as the world’s only accidental architect.
Because he consistently uses the same terms, builds on established concepts, and returns to familiar themes, images, incidents, and characters, one can easily be lulled into feeling that Bradbury presents a comprehensive vision of the universe. However, Bradbury is not as interested in the universe as he is interested in man himself, individual man, and how he can and should function in reality. Consequently, Bradbury focuses on the microcosmic world of humanity. With a detached, yet discerning eye, he dissects man, exposing his frailties, his fears, and his weaknesses. Recurring images throughout his works are the tools with which he accomplishes this task. These images, in turn, then serve to depict certain specific themes that, likewise, relate to this microcosmic world.