Friday, October 9, 2009


Well I dreamt I went away on a Steam Powered Aeroplane.
I went and stayed and damn near didn't come back again.
Didn't go very fast on a Steam Powered Aeroplane,
Oh the wheel went around, up and down, and inside and then back again.

Sittin' in a 747 just watching them clouds roll by,
Can't tell if it's sunshine or if it's rain.
Rather be sittin' in a deck chair high above Kansas City,
On a genuine old fashioned Steam Powered Aeroplane.
- John Hartford, Steam Powered Aeroplane*
For those of you unfamiliar with steampunk, it's an interesting phenomenon, a sort of bastard child of history and imagination that is difficult to categorize - is it a movement, a philosophy, an art, a science? Perhaps a bit of each, really.

For a long time, Fantasy was basically a medieval homage, with occasional forays into the Renaissance. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings is a useful case study for this approach, because so much is taken on faith. In a society containing beer, barrels, boots and bread, there have to be brewers, tanners, cobblers, bakers, farmers, millers, coopers, and a plethora of other trades, but Tolkien rarely touches on the mechanics of Middle-Earth society, that's not what he's interested in. The near-fate of the Shire as a smoke-belching wasteland would seem to clearly demonstrate Tolkien's general position on technology and progress, a position shared by some of his fellow fantasy authors.

The other side of the coin is, of course, Science Fiction, with the emphasis on Science. In its purest form, SF worships at the altar of technology, but technology at a remove, technology inaccessible to the man on the street. Star Trek in its various incarnations is the perfect example of this approach, an almost clinical future without moving parts, grease or grit.

Steampunk stands between these two options. As the name suggests, the steampunk aesthetic dates from the era of the steam engine, but it's really a sort of retro-futurism, in which technological developments like robots, computers, and time machines are created using the technologies of the past: steam, rivets, gears and dials as opposed to electricity or electronics. It is heavily influenced by the work of its patron saints, H. G. Wells and Jules Verne, and steampunk fiction is often set in an idealized Victorian milieu.

The term "steampunk" was coined by science fiction author K. W. Jeter in a 1987 letter to Locus Magazine. Looking for a term to describe the work being written by himself and his friends Tim Powers and James Blaylock, he jokingly suggested "steampunks", a play on words regarding the cyberpunk genre of science fiction:
Personally, I think Victorian fantasies are going to be the next big thing, as long as we can come up with a fitting collective term... Something based on the appropriate technology of the era; like "steampunks," perhaps.
In addition to Jeter, Powers, and Blaylock, authors such as Paul di Filippi and Jay Lake have contributed to the steampunk library, and cyberpunk authors William Gibson and Bruce Sterling paid tribute to the genre in their 1990 collaboration The Difference Engine. Jay Lake and S. M. Peters have presented an alternative approach to steampunk in their writing, which they refer to as "clockpunk", revolving (no pun intended) more around clockwork and spring-powered technology than steam.

Another related style is that of the gaslamp romance, which is less involved with technology but which takes a mash-up approach to the Victorian era, combined historical and fictional characters to create alternative histories. A perfect example would be British author Kim Newman's 1992 novel Anno Dracula, wherein Count Dracula marries the widowed Queen Victoria, and Jack the Ripper stalks vampire prostitutes through the foggy streets of Whitechapel.

Surprisingly, steampunk has developed a role beyond that of just a literary sub-genre, and has established itself as both a fashion trend and an artistic movement, and for some people a philosophy and a lifestyle. Followers of steampunk fashion sport top hats, goggles, and muttonchop whiskers, and accessorize their frock coats and corsets with brass ray guns and complicated ocular mechanisms.

Steampunk artists embrace an aesthetic based around copper, glass, wood and leather, and build both fantasy creations and reconstructions or modifications of modern technology such as laptops, iPods, electric guitars, and even vibrators. (N.B. there are certain devices which do not successfully combine extreme heat and metal. Apparently the steam-powered vibrator is one of them.) In addition, a wide variety of characters and stories have been re-imagined into the steampunk milieu: Star Wars, Star Trek, Marvel and DC comics characters, and so on.



Steampunk has inspired or influenced a number of movies and television programs, such as The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen or the movie version of Wild Wild West, and is the milieu of Katsuhiro Otomo's 2004 animated film Steamboy. Last year's Doctor Who Christmas special featured a marvellous steampunk robot, a gigantic smoke-belching automaton that stalked across Victorian London, leaving the traditional path of destruction in its wake. However, in spite of these attempts to move steampunk from the fringe into the mainstream, to date steampunk has yet to have its Star Wars, as it were.

But there's still hope - a quick Google search resulted in over 500,000 hits for the phrase "steampunk star wars", so obviously someone is working on it.
- Sid
* With this set of lyrics, we once again pay homage to the infamous Colin Campbell. Colin sometimes bemoans the cleansing process of a few years back when he divested himself of his vinyl collection (records, that is, he didn't collect 60's tablecloths or fetish clothing or anything like that). I seem to have a certain knack for finding what we might charitably describe as "unlicensed" music online, and when he wistfully mentioned John Hartford and his album Steam Powered Aeroplane as among the deceased, I had the great good fortune of finding eleven digitized John Hartford albums online for him within minutes, including the one in question.

(The Star Trek Steampunk wallpapers are from the Rabbittooth web site, credit where credit is due.)

By a show of hands, please.


Just a little housekeeping - is everyone aware that if you click on the pictures, you get larger versions?
- Sid

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Challenging reality.


Fantasy did not start and will not end with Tolkien, black-and-white morality, escapism and nostalgia for fairy-tale feudalism. There are very different traditions: Surrealism; the populist modernism of the pulps; Peake's Gormenghast; Borge's dreams. For them, fantasy doesn't fall back on a stock of clichés – it estranges, it undermines and challenges reality.

- China Miéville
In spite of the fact that this blog claims to deal with both genres, I'm probably more of a fan of science fiction than fantasy. However, they're both well represented in my little library here, even if my fantasy collection leans more toward the classics than that of most readers: The Lord of the Rings and the Narnia series of course, but also lesser-known older books like The Worm Ouroboros by E. R. Eddison, the Gormenghast trilogy by Mervyn Peake, Lord Dunsany's The King of Elfland's Daughter, and so on.

I also have my share of the adventures of heroic (or anti-heroic) fantasy characters: Conan, Elric, Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser, Prester John, Brak, Kane, and a few other of their sword-toting brethren - or sisters, in the case of C. L. Moore's Jirel of Joiry.

But, as Mr. Miéville's introductory quote quite accurately points out, any attempt to limit the boundaries of fantasy is futile. Many of the examples I've listed above are well-known standards or classics as far as fantasy publishing goes, but let's not ignore Neil Gaiman's urban fantasies, China Miéville's own tales of New Crobuzon and its mixed bag of denizens, Stephen Donaldson's Thomas Covenant books, Tanith Lee's dark, sexually oriented tales, Ursula K. LeGuin's thoughtful Earthsea series, Roger Zelazny's brilliant Amber novels, or Jack Vance's quirky storytelling.

But in spite of having all this source material to draw upon, it took me a surprisingly long time to write this post. I had all these bits and pieces, all these observations and fragments regarding fantasy, but I couldn't find the hook, the connecting element that would get it all to make sense together.

In an attempt to further the progress of things, I did what I consider to be the equivalent of free association - I went to Google™ and typed in "fantasy". After moving past a lot of admittedly intriguing offers by buxom young women regarding my fantasies and their willing if expensive fulfillment thereof, I made my way to the Wikipedia entry regarding Fantasy, which contains the following statement:
Fantasy is a genre that uses magic and other supernatural forms as a primary element of plot, theme, and/or setting. Many works within the genre take place on fictional planes or planets where magic is common. Fantasy is generally distinguished from science fiction and horror by the expectation that it steers clear of scientific and macabre themes.
My first thought was, "No, that's not what distinguishes fantasy from science fiction, that's like saying that the ocean is generally distinguished from dry land by its lack of trees and grass. " Sadly, as a definition the Wikipedia entry seems to be far too close to the sort of narrow viewpoint that Mr. Miéville derides in his statement.

In my opinion, I think that at some very basic level the creative desires of the science fiction author and the fantasy author are completely different. The science fiction author accepts the rules, however much he may then proceed to bend them. If an SF author wishes to have his starships travel faster than light, they have to be able to provide some explanation of how this violation of current physics is possible. This explanation may not be a scientific possibility under current state of the art, but the author recognizes the need to acknowledge the limiting factor of c as a constant.

The fantasy author approaches things from the other direction. They create a world in which they make the rules, with no need to explain or justify them. Floating cities, talking trees, seven league boots, the author has complete freedom, unhampered by any need for explanation or logic - as in the opening quote, challenging reality.

To illustrate what I mean, if a science fiction author wants to include a flying horse as an element in their story, they have to consider the physics of flight: the surface area required to lift the weight of a horse, the question of how wing muscles would be integrated into a horse's physical structure, and whether or not a flying horse would need to be hollow-boned, like a bird.

A fantasy writer may have an explanation for the existence of flying horses in their story, but it doesn't need to be rooted in science. It might involve a drunken dalliance between a stallion and a roc (giant bird for those of you who don't follow these things); a magical cantrip that keeps the horses aloft; or it might simply be by decree, as this scene from The Magician's Nephew, the first book in the Narnia series: *
"Be winged. Be the father of all flying horses," roared Aslan in a voice that shook the ground. "Your name is Fledge."

The horse shied, just as it might have shied in the old, miserable days when it pulled a hansom. Then it reared. It strained its neck back as if there were a fly biting its shoulders and it wanted to scratch them. And then, just as the beasts has burst out of the earth, there burst out from the shoulders of Fledge wings that spread and grew, larger than eagles', larger than swans', larger than angels' wings in church windows.
Voilà - a flying horse, literally on demand. What better symbol could Fantasy have?
- Sid
* Not everyone is aware that the Narnia books were written out of sequence. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe was written first, and then in later years some person, possibly from Porlock, demanded an explanation from C. S. Lewis: why a wardrobe? Why is there a lamppost in Lamppost Waste? The result was The Magician's Nephew, a prequel novel which is probably the weakest of the books due to its dutiful filling in of the gaps. Thanks to my mother's wisdom, I read The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe first, and never for a moment wondered why there was a lamppost flickering away in the middle of the forest on the other side of a wardrobe - for me, it was just part of the author's world and I accepted it. Interesting that Disney made the same decision in terms of filming the adaptations.