Fiction Review: The Diamond Thief

BY SHARON GOSLING
Publisher: Curious Fox
Reviewed by Belle Cooper

108dbb_b302bce4124fcc0a5b0f5c6a78185bb5We’re introduced to our protagonist, Rémy Brunel, at the top of a trapeze performance for Le Cirque de la Lune, and within a few pages we seem to know all we need to know about her: she’s a sixteen-year-old orphan, slight of build, and a tremendous trapeze artist and master jewel thief. She is, in other words, YA romance gold. Her co-star, Thaddeus Rec, is similarly constructed: upright and moral despite being raised by thieves, he’s used his strict code of ethics and fascination with steam-era advanced science to become the youngest detective at Scotland Yard. Oh, and did I mention his eyes are two different colors?

I must admit, I took my first steps into Sharon Gosling’s Victorian London with trepidation. The prose, light and simple, at first appears childish, but I reminded myself that were I still fourteen instead of in my thirties, I would be all over Rémy and Thaddeus (well, most certainly R&eactue;my, I was never much one for the upright and moral dashing gentleman). Thus reassured and in the proper frame of mind, I straightened my reviewer’s skirts and strode forward into the world of The Diamond Thief with due enthusiasm.

I was not disappointed.

It’s not a perfect book. A few details don’t quite pan out; the text towards the end states, for instance, that Rémy and Thaddeus have known each other perhaps a week, while at my count it can be no more than two days. It also takes quite awhile to get to the real juice of the story, the first half moving rather slowly as the pieces are carefully placed. We meet Thaddeus’ scientist mentor, known simply as “the Professor”; his street-urchin sidekick J; and a properly sinister (and properly landed, this is Victorian London we’re talking about) villain. There’s a seemingly successful jewel heist and mistaken accusations thrown about, and even a dog chase, all simply to force dear Rémy and Thaddeus together into the sewers beneath London, where the fun can really begin. What plods in the set-up becomes a proper thrill ride in the execution, full of truly mad science, a handy dose of mysticism, an inherited curse, declarations of love, and a climax straight out of Indiana Jones, complete with a slightly ditzy love interest (sorry Thaddeus) picking precisely the wrong moment to try to assert his dominance over our hero.

The absolute best part, for me, is the fact that Rémy never quite lets him.

R&eacutemy starts the book under the thumb of her noxious circus director and crime boss, Gustave, and spends much of the rest of it being ordered around by — and underestimated by — any number of other men, but by the epilogue, she has shaken them all. We see her performing her act in secret, her own agent, on a West End stage, having chosen London as her home on her own terms. And that is something that both my inner fourteen-year-old and outer thirty-something self can get behind.

ART: The Midnight Archive

via The Midnight Archive – Art and the Occult – YouTube.

NOTE: Not strictly a Steampunk thing really, but obviously the tones of the Occult and the Aesthetic crossover with that of the Victorian era, and as much as we see it as some sort Edwardian aesthetic, we can see also how the Art Nouveau and Victorian feel, hand made accoutrements kind of vibe together, right?

 

Fiction Review: Doktor Glass

BY THOMAS BRENNAN
Publisher: Ace Trade (2012)
Reviewed by Cheyenne Kam

9780425258170_p0_v2_s260x420The main concept of this novel is something from a child’s fantasy: the “Span”, a bridge stretching from Liverpool in England to New York City in the U.S., built just as the 20th century is getting underway. Armies of workers have sunk pitons into the Atlantic, and designers have worked years to make sure the Span will stand, providing a link across the globe for new ‘atomic’ powered trains. The cost has been great, in money, time, and lives; a camp of dispossessed families and workers has grown up around the docks, awaiting the anticipated opening of the bridge and their chance to buy steerage tickets to America, as well as constantly hectoring the company who built it to compensate them for the loss of their husbands and fathers. It’s a powerful image, and the author doesn’t skimp on the details.

The rest of the novel continues the trend for steampunk realism: steam-powered cars, the hustle and bustle of the Victorian-era Met police station, crippled Boer War veterans trying to get by in the streets. It’s a fascinating world, punctuated by society balls with new electric lights, spiritualists, and rumors of the “Jar Boys” – scam artists claiming they are willing to capture the soul of a dying person with their new scientific device, and that in return for money there is the assurance of resurrection for the dearly departed. In this London, however, there is the possibility that this scam is all too real, thanks to the mysterious and much-feared Doktor Glass.

If only all this detail and historical authenticity had carried over to the characterization. Sadly, our protagonist, Inspector Matthew Langton, occasionally seems to be criminally naive for the hero of a mystery novel. He’s dealing with nightmares and insomnia due to the recent death of his wife, as well as a rather gruesome murder on the docks, but he pluckily tries to find who’s responsible–only to have every lead killed off as he plods along. He’s likable, and maybe he’s just at the disadvantage of not being the reader, but I know I spotted our villains from their first appearances. The other characters were also believable and engaging, but not gripping. Unfortunately, Doktor Glass did not live up to his billing as a super-villain, and for all the build-up, the ending is something of a let-down. The loose ends are neatly tied up, but I was left wondering if I still cared.

There’s the possibility that Matthew was missing some clues because of class distinctions which keep him from asking useful questions, but it seems a cheap way to keep him from finding the culprits. A Samuel Vimes (a la Discworld) or Sam Spade would never have been thwarted by this. There are noir elements to this novel, but our hero’s persistent naivete tends to obscure them. Maybe Inspector Langton and the author were trying too hard to do too many things at once: write social commentary, science-fantasy, and cops-and-spies action at the same time. Throwing in a mystery plot might have stretched this novel just a little too thin to reach the end with enough weight to carry it.

If you grow impatient with slow pacing and tangents away from the crime, you should probably go back to The Big Sleep. But If you want to read great world-building and good action, and you don’t particularly care about mystery plots, this is a good read.

Fiction Review: Ack-Ack Macaque

BY GARETH L POWELL
Publisher: Solaris
Review by Belle Cooper

ackackTo hear author Gareth L Powell tell it, it all started started quite simply: with a name. It was his job only to find the character and the story that name belonged to. He’s since managed to do so twice, first with a short story appearing in the UK fiction magazine “Interzone”, and later with a full-length novel. That name, Ack-Ack Macaque, was so evocative that he used it to title both works. It certainly makes for a hell of a draw: a monkey in an eye-patch and a bomber jacket, with a nasty demeanor and a heart of gold, who spends much of his time either dogfighting over Europe or taking out Nazi ninjas–no, really–with his twin Colts, chomping on a cigar the whole way.

Everybody loves the monkey.

Ack-Ack Macaque isn’t so much steampunk as cyberpunk with steam and diesel detailing. While airships and their delightful governmental autonomy do play a central role in the novel, they’re powered by nuclear reactors rather than steam engines. The year is 2054, and the UK is about to celebrate its centennial with the launch of a Mars probe. That’s the United Kingdom of Great Britain, France, Ireland, and Norway, by the way, a union forged in 1954 when France voluntarily gave itself over to British rule in the wake of World War II. Since then, it seems, the sun never set on the British Empire; one of the central threats of the climax is the possibility of nuclear war with China over Britain’s refusal to give up control of Hong Kong.

Our main characters are Victoria Valois, a reporter-turned-cyborg out to solve the mystery of her husband’s murder; Merovech, the reluctant teenage crown prince of the UK; and the titular Ack-Ack Macaque, star of the world’s most popular video game, gone AWOL and rogue into the real world. In classic cyberpunk fashion, the novel takes on questions about identity and the nature of reality in a world of advanced technology that includes artificial intelligence and computerized neural enhancements. All three characters find themselves facing these questions throughout the novel as their ideas about the world and their place in it are turned on their heads. Victoria, at least, has some small advantage, having two years of experience hacking her own brain under her belt.

My only real issue with the book is that I wanted it to take everything just a little bit further. The book touches on a lot of things without ever really exploring them: the problematic nature of colonialism and globalization feed into the central conflict, but other than the Hong Kong thing, is never really evaluated. The minor characters are rather one dimensional: K8, the Scottish hacker, does little more than facilitate Ack-Ack’s travel back and forth between the real world and the game and provide a little bit of necessary exposition, while Julie, Merovech’s French activist girlfriend, spends most of the book as a useful plot device (though, minor spoilers, she also gets one of my favorite moments in the book, when she tells Merovech that she doesn’t need rescuing, especially poignant considering that he’s quite literally her prince). Our two antagonists aren’t terribly complex, either, swimming in pretty much pure villainy and megalomania, and for one of them, some fairly gratuitous misogyny, seemingly for no other purpose than to let the reader know just how bad he really is. Even the imagined future of technology could be taken a few steps further. While the creation of the “gelware” neural implants is fascinating, as is the concept of the “soulcatcher”, a device created to record brainwaves, providing for a limited “life after death”, much of the rest of the technology of 2054 is indistinguishable from that of today. The “syncpads” referred to throughout are clearly iPads and tablets, and characters even refer to watching videos of YouTube. Don’t get me wrong, I think YouTube is a fantastic tool, but I’d like to think that in another 40 years, we’ll have come up with something even better.

The true joy in the book is instead in the stylistic detailing, much of which set off gleeful little reference alerts in my head as I read along. In the age of the internet, it’s hard not to evoke some of its memes, especially in a story as steeped in social and connective technology as this one. There’s monkeys fighting ninjas, a heroine straight out of a comic book with her long army coat, retractable quarter staff, and invisible advisor, and a bad guy who reminded me of nothing less than Something Awful’s Slenderman. These little detailing easter eggs combine with an action-adventure plot that pulls you right along. There’s something cinematic about the way everything plays out; I could easily see this translated onto the big screen.

The ebook edition of Ack-Ack Macaque includes a couple of extras, including the original short story, which while it explores a few of the same ideas as the novel, is actually quite a different beast. It focuses much more on how people relate to one another through both art and sex, using the cyber elements as both a backdrop and a metaphor, and provides a nice contrast with the novel. If you’re looking for an action-adventure story featuring flying machines and fancy technology, Ack-Ack Macaque should be right up your alley.

ART: Printable Steampunk Apothecary Labels

printable_steampunk_apothecary_labels_by_vectoriadesigns-d5tc9dy

Magic Steampunk Apothecary Labels – an inspiring collection of different steampunk bottle and jar labels for Halloween. Put them on regular bottles which you filled with all sorts of things. Success guaranteed, by ~VectoriaDesigns on deviantART

Fiction Review: The Exile’s Violin (Tethys Chronicles, Book 1)

BY R. S. HUNTER
Publisher: Hydra Publications, September 2012
Review by Barbora Lyčková

exileCoverA fast-paced steampunk adventure of simple words and complex politics

Imagine living the ordinary life of a young girl in Vorleaux, the beautiful wrought-iron capital of the Republic of Alesir. There is school to attend during the day, open-windowed trolleys to travel around the city in, and a warm supper every evening. True, your parents have to pay a monthly ‘insurance fee’ to the local gang, and perhaps the police aren’t as efficient as they should be when it comes to dealing with rioters in the street, but, all things considered, there really isn’t that much to complain about.

At least not until your parents are murdered.

Meet Jacquie Renairre, a young private investigator with a roguish attitude and the manners of a seasoned adventurer. She recalls the night her family was killed as clearly as ever–after all, even though she herself managed to escape, she lost an eye in the struggle. Now, several years later, armed with a trusty pair of revolvers and a rich-beyond-dream, bored-beyond-imagination best friend, she is ready for revenge.

At first glance, The Exile’s Violin makes for an interesting read: an exciting setting with a complicated political background, a promising plot, and a main protagonist who had actually lost an eye rather than merely sporting a cool yet unrealistic scar across half of her face (I can think of only one other steampunk-literature example where the author was brave enough to go through with this, and that is Philip Reeve and his fierce Amazon of the Mortal Engines series, Hester Shaw). As wonderful as it all sounds, though, there is one small drawback: Hunter’s style of writing.

The plot, as action-packed and fast-paced as one can get, is held together by plain and simple phrases; and while I am aware of the fact that some readers may prefer language that is more down-to-earth, it is definitely not my cup of tea. As a reader, I enjoy complex sentences and interesting vocabulary, neither of which is to be found in this particular novel. What’s more, there were many suspicious places where some simple editing, such as the removal of repetitive words, could have done wonders: “It was a large steel box with slits large enough for rifle barrels to fit through in case an enemy invaded the base. It looked large enough to hold at least fifty soldiers at once.” (chp. 28, emphasis mine).

Clichés abound: “She just knew [he] was aboard one of [the airships], probably standing on the bridge laughing as his plan unfolded. She clenched her teeth at the image. She would make him pay, no matter what.” (chp. 27); “That was the last thing she wanted to hear, more taxes placed on the lower classes while the wealthy used their political power to keep from paying.” (chp. 5).

What’s more, every so often there was a noticeable contradiction in the flow of the story. Allow me an example: Jacquie is being led into an audience chamber and, on the way, she recognizes “the Imperial Royal Guards. The looks in their eyes frightened her. Killers. All of them were trained killers. She hoped she’d never see them in action.” Half an hour later, a military coup occurs, with foreign soldiers running “up to the dais and efficiently [disarming] the Royal Guards before they could even raise their weapons.” (chp. 16). In this moment, the reader becomes confused; I, at least, had to go back and read the introduction to the scene again, to see whether I was remembering that part about the near-invincibility of the Imperial Guards correctly. Even if it was written this way on purpose (enemy soldiers even deadlier than the Guards, the element of surprise, etc., etc.), I still think that an author shouldn’t puzzle their reader enough to force them to re-read entire sections of the novel.

So, as much as I liked the characters, especially Jacquie’s patient and long-suffering sidekick, in the end the style ended up being so taxing for me that I almost didn’t finish the book. I cannot shake the feeling that had there been more beta-readers, perhaps the novel would have ended up being accessible to a wider audience. As it is, I would recommend The Exile’s Violin only to fans of action-packed stories: the plot is there, it is strong, and it keeps moving forward.

If, however, you enjoy books not only for plot, but also for how they’re written, give the Tethys Chronicles a wide berth.

Music review: Queen of the Wave

BY PEPE DELUXE
Label: Catskills Records
Reviewed by Meg Kingston

cb61ad3b32af3ad2d762f5792b048ce4_1328016411_cover__Calling itself “An Esoteric Pop Opera in Three Parts”, Queen of the Wave is a bold attempt by the Scandinavian duo Pepe Deluxe to reinvent the prog rock concept album for the 21st century. I love the idea, I enjoyed some of the tracks, but it didn’t really flow in the way I would expect from a concept album. It sounds more like a collection of tracks strung together almost at random. The story they tell is similarly mixed up.

The accompanying book is similar, a collection of images comprising fragments of the story, the history of the group, the lyrics and miscellaneous retro-futuristic machines. It’s appealing at first glance, but I reached the end feeling that my expectations were unfilled.

There’s no denying the talents of the contributors or the scale of their ambitions. I loved several elements – especially the Stalagpipe Organ (exactly what it sounds like). But the overall feel suffers from a lack of coherence.

This work has been submitted to the magazine as a “Steampunk” work. I don’t believe it is, though it’s retro-futuristic, full of references to odd machinery, Atlantis and other trappings that could be part of the Steampunk aesthetic.

Is it Steampunk? No, I’m afraid not. Did I enjoy Queen of the Wave? In part, yes.

Personal Score: 3 stars (out of 5)

Interwith with Bryn Pryor, creator of Cowboys and Engines

A humanoid robot with a zombie-like face and pipes coming out of its back.Bryn Pryor and his team want to bring steampunk to the big screen on a new, huge scale: Their film Cowboys and Engines has robots, zeppelins, space travel, and mysterious gadgets galore, all set in a detailed alternative history. I got to ask Bryn a few questions about alt history, world-building, and the film itself.

Just to start off with everyone’s favorite question: How would you define steampunk?

I define steampunk as Victorian adventure/sci-fi mashup with an eye towards the fact that aesthetics are as important as function. That being said, I’m different from many steampunk fans in that it’s important to me that I can believe everything really works. The look and feel of gear and wardrobe is important, but it also needs to be functional. Often, I see steampunk cosplayers and think their designs are pretty, and would look great in stills, but the minute they have to move, it becomes apparent that the gear is completely impractical. I just don’t buy it. So my version of steampunk is a bit more gritty and stripped-down.

In the world of Cowboys and Engines, North America is split into five different nations – can you tell us a bit about what each of those are, and how much of each we get to see?

The five nations of C&E’s North America break down according to the alternate history of the world I’m trying to build, and I’d like to think they make sense in that context. We have the United States, which is the entire northeast, extending as far south as Charleston, SC, and as far west as Denver and Cheyenne.

The Confederate States are smaller than we are used to, including much of the south, but not Florida, Louisiana, or the southern portions of Alabama and Georgia, which are controlled by Neuvo Hispanola, or New Spain.

This latter nation is one of the oldest on the continent. In our timeline, Spain never lost control of Florida, and there was no Seven Years War. Instead, Spain and France fought The Mississippi River War, with France ceding control of Louisiana and the southern Mississippi basin to Spain.

Texas, (as has often been imagined by speculative writers dating back to before Texas was actually a state) is a nation unto itself, officially the Republic of Texas, stretching down into northern Mexico, and encompassing the Oklahoma panhandle, New Mexico, and much of Arizona.

Everything else, from southern Mexico to Alaska, including Idaho, Nevada, and much of Utah, is the vast, powerful and massively wealthy Calexican Empire.

Much of what is currently Canada is hotly contested in an ongoing war between the French and British, but is not a nation, per se, in our 1876.

Politically, North America is a mess. Our civil war started earlier, in 1858, and is still raging in 1876, taking a terrible toll on both the United and Confederate States. Texas, while technically neutral, supports the CSA with money, weapons and advisers. New Spain, while being a close ally with Texas, supports the USA in a similar fashion, fearing expansionist aggression from the CSA should they secure their independence.

The US also gets financial support from France, where Napoleon’s son is still Emperor of France, and King of Italy and Prussia.

The Calexican Empire pretends neutrality, but in fact works against all the other players in the region, hoping to destabilize Texas, the US and the CSA so that it might take advantage of their weakened positions and expand outright. The only true alliance the Empire has is with Britain, and it is largely due to gold from Calexico’s coffers, and the Empire’s military aid, that Britain has maintained its independence from Napoleon II.

Sheesh.

What’s the technology in this world like? Favorite gadget/machine?

The tech of this world is clever, but clunky. Electricity is still in it fledgling state, but much steam- and clockwork-based tech is built around the Tesla coil, the work not of Nikola Tesla, but of his father, Milutin, who abandoned the priesthood at a young age in our world, deciding instead to study natural philosophy (aka, the newly-named “science”) at Charles University in Prague. There, along with Professor Nicholas Timéon, Tesla created a small device that exploits barely-understood natural electrical reactions to create intense heat for several months without fuel.

Eventually, refinements to this device would allow a single Tesla coil to remain in use for two-three years without changing. In essence, without really understanding its principles, Tesla and Timéon stumbled upon nuclear plasma fusion and created what amount to nuclear batteries. These now power much of the technology in the world, despite being dangerous when handled incorrectly.

My favorite gadget is probably Professor Timéon’s Temporal Engine, which is central to our story. However, while I can tell you it isn’t a time machine, I can’t really reveal what it does…

What’s your process like for creating an alternate history like this? Where do you start to develop such a detailed world for such a relatively short story?

My process is sort of ridiculously complex. I approach worlds like this the way Lucas approached the world of the original Star Wars, which is to say, I don’t want to explain it to the audience, I just want to drop them in it and have it feel intuitive and real. The way you do that is to have so much detail informing the story and the world that the characters just feel at home. As long as the characters understand what’s going on, and why, the audience will generally understand without having it spelled out for them.

However, as I mentioned, I’m a stickler for things working. I’m the top cop on the bullshit squad, and if I don’t believe it, it doesn’t work for me. So I couldn’t just imagine a “different” 1876; I had to backtrack and figure out why it’s different. Where, in history, did various elements diverge to create this altered timeline? So I kept moving back, step-by-step, tweaking and adjusting elements in history that could logically have led to where the world is, and it turned into a huge, twisting rabbit-hole of detail. It turns out my timeline starts to diverge in the early 12th century, when several pieces of technology that led to the 12th century Renaissance arrive from China a few decades sooner than they actually did, including the blast furnace and the sailor’s compass.

Does any of this bear directly on the movie? No, but it lets me construct our new world on a strong foundation that might not literally work (science fiction rarely does), but functions well enough to suspend disbelief pretty painlessly for the viewer.

How much of the historical back story will we see on-screen?

A lot of the near-term historical background is referenced. We understand that the Civil War is ongoing, and we get a sense of its ravages when we see the Myrmidon; My two leads encounter a renegade mechanical soldier that has wandered away from some battlefield, possibly years ago, and it is horrible. It’s the corpse of a fallen infantryman that has been mechanized, armored, and sent back into battle, partly as a psychological weapon. To me, this indicates how nearly two decades of war have both depleted available manpower, and degraded the morality of the combatants. It’s an example of how the history informs the action, without being implicit.

The fact that Cade Ballard, my main character, saved President Lincoln from assassination when he was Texas’ ambassador to the US is important in that it has made Cade a celebrity, something he very much wants to avoid. The Calexican Empire’s wealth features prominently in the plans of Dr. Clay, the antagonist, in a way I’d rather not specify. And the scarcity of railroads in the West and Midwest — due to the popularity and speed of airships — allows us to have only scattered, isolated, tiny towns between Dodge City and major ports like San Francisco.

Again, these are just examples of how the history gets presented. I never sit the audience down and give them a history lesson, because who would want to sit through it? But it’s always there as a backbone to the story, and I think the narrative would suffer without it.

You say on your website that Hollywood has failed miserably at bringing steampunk to the screen, and I was wondering if you had any thoughts on why that is?

Frankly, I think Hollywood fails at most genres because they are fostered by studio execs who don’t understand what drives them in the first place. It would be like me making decisions about haute couture when I haven’t got the slightest notion what that world is about. Also, when there’s a ton of money on the line — take, for instance, the execrable Wild, Wild West — studios try too hard to broaden the appeal. In their minds, this means appealing to the lowest common denominator, and the result is always shit.

The Kickstarter campaign for the movie ends on March 9th, so if you’re interested in seeing it happen, you can support it here!

Fiction Review: The Steam Mole

BY DAVE FREER
Publisher: Pyr 2012
Reviewed by Nimue Brown, with co-reviewer James

SteamMoleWhile Steam Mole is a sequel to the exuberant YA novel Cuttlefish, it would stand alone so don’t hesitate to jump in here if this one comes to you first. Young adventurers Clara Calland and Tim Barnabas find themselves in a steam powered Australia as this alternate history takes a series of new and dramatic turns. Imagining Australia without the social effects of the Second World War and with radical climate change creates not only a different political and geographical scenario but also allows Freer to explore the horrors of racial prejudice and corporate abuse.

The plot of Steam Mole is an absolute page turner, throwing the young protagonists and the adults who surround them into a series of perilous events and dangerous adventures. Inclusion of more adult characters and narrative adds depth to the setting and takes this book forward from Cuttlefish, delivering more story and vision than the first book held – which really is saying something.

As the title suggests, Steam Mole takes us underground, with steam powered mining and underground transport technology. In the lethal heat of this imagined Australia, most humans cannot survive on the surface, so underground cities are a must. The underpinning science has clearly been given a lot of thought and anything not explained within the story is tackled at the end in the very useful author notes.
As with Cuttlefish, this book is clearly aimed at the YA market, but will prove irresistible to any adult readers who enjoy this sort of thing. My YA co-reviewer said it was at least as good as Cuttlefish, and like the first book, he found it “amazing”. He was able to engage with the adult perspectives in the story and, despite being a boy, quite liked the romantic elements of the plot! Freer clearly has an eye to appealing to readers of both gender. The romance, as with other emotional aspects of the story, is handled with a light touch, but remains deeply affecting throughout. Younger readers won’t be overwhelmed, while adults will find this aspect powerful. At several points, events in the story almost had me in tears, although it’s not a plot spoiler, given the genre, to mention that things work out in the end.

Overall, a most excellent read. If Freer continues this as a series, I shall keep reading. Highly recommended.

Wired reviews Steampunk Magazine

Wired has reviews of several fabulous Steampunk publications, including our very own magazine. If you’re looking for some new reading material, check out their recommendations!

Thanks for the kind review!