I’m spending the week prepping for the start of the school year, and having a final end-of-summer hurrah with my mom, so I’m taking a little time off from blogging this week. To keep the steampunk vibe going for the week, however, I’m linking up some fun videos and photos.
First up are some great resources from Suzanne Lazear (who taught the steampunk writing course that I took back in July) for those interested in steampunk world-building and research.
Next, we have some amazing steampunk-themed Star Wars robots from artist Jordan Thomas (check out his work on flickr, and his robots/wine bottle stoppers available for purchase on Etsy).
Steampunk C3PO by Jordan Thomas, via Cool News
Steampunk Stormtrooper by Jordan Thomas, via Cool News
Steampunk R2D2 by Jordan Thomas, via Cool News
Steampunk is also influencing Hollywood films, including the latest reboot of Alexandre Dumas’s The Three Musketeers, co-starring Matthew Macfayden and Orlando Bloom (check the flash of the awesome airship at 1:00):
Finally, check out this great preview of Vintage Tomorrows, an upcoming documentary on the world of steampunk. It features authors Cherie Priest and Cory Doctorow, who top every ‘steampunk must-read’ list:
Due to the untimely intervention of life, Monday Inspirations is a day late, but better late than never! Today, we continue on our journey through some of the more common technological elements of the steampunk world. In many ways, this is the semi-blind leading the blind; I’m brand-new to this genre, and this mini-series of posts doubles as much-needed research. The hope is that you’ll all learn something new (especially since it seems like I have quite a few friends curious to read more about steampunk), and that I’ll have a chance to build up my smarts and write a novel that will more or less fit the genre.
Rosie the Maid from the 1960s Cartoon, The Jetsons
This week, we’re going to take a look at robots and automatons. They are, of course, a familiar mainstay in popular culture. Even if you don’t read or watch science fiction, chance are you can name at least three or four robots from literature, film and television. For me, the first ones that come to mind are Rosie, the mechanical maid from the 1960s cartoon, The Jetsons; R2-D2 and C-3PO from the Star Wars universe; and the super-scary Daleks from Doctor Who.
Robots are worthy of fascination and awe, for they represent one of the highest forms of human ingenuity, skill, and creativity. In many ways, they serve as a symbol of a world where technology has been harnessed to serve humans, where we can enjoy the fruits of our labor and intelligence, kick back, and enjoy greater leisure time because our mechanical maids and butlers are tackling the chores and other dirty jobs for us.
The "Steambud," designed for Toysrevil 'Steampunk Perspective' contest.
What could be better than the ability to create autonomous, intelligent beings through sheer know-how and a few well-placed mechanical bits, wires, and other such gadgetry? How many mundane tasks could we outsource if we had a fleet of automatons ready and willing to tackle them?
At the same time, robots evoke some of our deepest fears, for what happens if those autonomous machines take on a consciousness that rivals our own? Is it possible for mechanical creatures to attain a semblance of a human soul? And if so, would such an outcome break overarching codes of ethics and morality?
The possibility of such an outcome has inspired countless works of fiction and film, from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to the film Terminator and beyond. Popular culture has simultaneously celebrated robots and warned us against them, giving life to the very real technological dilemmas that we face every day. We may not have robot servants clanking about our homes, but we do have countless automated devices in our lives, devices that have served to displace human workers and transform our relationship with the world around us, and with one another.
Because my interests are historical in nature, what leaped out at me during my research and reading is the fact that human conception of the robot stretches back far beyond the 19th century. According to Wikipedia, the idea of self-acting automata was well-established within the lore and mythology of various ancient cultures, including the Chinese, Greeks, and Hebrews.
With 50k of my steampunk WIP, TELL ME NO LIES, under my belt, I return to my weekly Monday Inspirations posts in order to focus on some of the central elements of the steampunk genre. As you can see from the title, I intend for this to be the introduction to a miniseries on steampunk technology, a chance for me to explore a world that I find both exciting and slightly intimidating. Luckily, I have you, dear friends, to accompany me on this journey. 😀
This is more my speed. Credit: Alwyn Ladell, via Flickr
As much as the admission pains me, I must confess that tackling anything related with technology makes me all sorts of crazy inside. I don’t do technology, or at least anything more advanced than, say, an automatic crossbow or a horse-drawn carriage. I prefer swords to guns, magical staves to anything science-y (unless, y’know, we’re talking about some sort of alchemical process), and flesh-and-blood humans and animals to androids or clockwork creatures. I’ve never been really intrigued by how things work — I want to press a button on my computer, or turn the key in the ignition of my car, and have it work, period. (There is a reason why I am a sociologist/writer, and not an engineer or a scientist.)
It's all about the pretty, folks. Okay, the train is cool too, I suppose. Source: RocknRollBride.com
Clearly, it wasn’t the excitement over building worlds dominated by airships or great clockwork structures that motivated me to write a steampunk novel. No, I was seduced by the aesthetics (I feel a little guilty about this). I like the 19th century. I like England. I like bustles and corsets and mini-fascinators and top hats. Granted, I also like the dark side of society that steampunk allows me to explore, particularly the social upheaval that accompanied the Industrial Revolution.
Better yet, I love the possibilities that engaging in alternate history provides. What happens if we shift our attention from the stately parlors and fancy drawing rooms of the British Empire in favor of another locale? What sorts of stories can we tell if we move beyond the dominant paradigm of the wealthy European lady or gentleman, the common protagonists of steampunk novels? This is a topic I’ll return to later on down the line, but for the moment, I will refer you all to Beyond Victoriana, a blog where such questions are tackled on a regular basis.
"Into the Far West" takes the spaghetti western, adds tropes from Chinese Wuxia, along with steampunk to break free of the dominant western European paradigm. Source: http://intothefarwest.com/
But I digress. While TELL ME NO LIES currently features a host of automatons, a rakish airship pirate, steam-powered trolleys, and one very awesome mechanical menagerie, at the moment they’re little more than wee references sprinkled in — here a robot, there a steam-powered thingie, and by the way, my main character is wearing a bustle. See? Steampunk, right?
For this week’s installment of Monday Inspirations, I’m thinking about setting. While plot points and characters are important elements of a strong novel, setting is also essential. My favorite stories are the ones where the setting functions like a secondary character, and so as I work through tell me no lies, my steampunk romance/murder mystery, I’ve been focusing on how to bring the world of 19th century San Francisco to life.
My main character, Tempest Dumont, is a singer at The Belladonna, a popular saloon located in the rough and tumble Barbary Coast (sometimes referred to as “Hell’s Half-Acre). Given that this is a steampunk tale, I can engage in a bit of revisionist history, so I’ve decided that The Belladonna is a female-owned saloon that caters to the wealthy playboys of San Francisco, those who want to experience the vices of the Barbary Coast without having to deal with the dangers of the run-down dive bars. It’s also a lot more glamorous than the other bars in town, with red velvet curtains and gold accents and fancy things like that.
While there are some fun examples of saloons in Hollywood’s classic western films, the movie that I’ve been drawing inspiration from is Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge, which tells the tragic story of an idealistic young writer who falls in love with a courtesan who works at the infamous nightclub.
One thing that I love about the film is the glitz and glamour. Luhrmann does an amazing job in creating a fantasy world of fueled by color and drama. However, there’s a dark side to the stage life, as we see in the clip below. This is one of my favorite moments in the film. The rendition of Queen’s “The Show Must Go On” is poignant and bittersweet (the chorus and background orchestrations are so awesome), and captures the darkness that pervades tell me no lies. I also love the behind-the-scenes shots of the theater being prepared for the big show — the seamstresses at work, the stagehands placing finishing touches on the sets, the angst that lies beneath the performers’ smiling faces.
Jack's Saloon, circa 1890
The real saloons of the day, of course, weren’t nearly as glamorous as the Moulin Rouge. Archival photographs (my favorite, as we all know!) show some run-down dives, and newspaper accounts also describe some seriously sketch places. An 1889 article from the San Francisco Chronicle, for example, makes mention of the “hoodlum beer saloons” of the Barbary Coast where “sitters,” or “men who [would] go in, get 5 cents’ worth of beer once in a while and sleep all they want” would hang out.
Interior of the Cobweb Palace. Source: James Smith, SF City Guides
The Cobweb Palace was one of the popular establishments in San Francisco during the latter half of the 19th century. Founded in 1856 at Meiggs Wharf by Abe Warner, the Cobweb Palace was named for the webs that were used as decoration inside the tavern.
According to James R. Smith, the bar was also known for Warner’s collection of walrus tusks and shark teeth, along with his set of nude paintings (apparently he amassed over one thousand of these). Even better was his live menagerie of monkeys, talking parrots, occasional bears or kangaroos, and other small animals.
Entrance of the Cobweb Palace (note the monkeys). Source: James R. Smith, SF City Guides
One of Abe Warner's monkeys. Source: Calisphere, UC Libraries
By the end of the 19th century, the Barbary Coast had reportedly calmed down (translation: fewer cases of theft, violence, and murder). Still, the rough-and-tumble half-acre of San Francisco lives on in memory and legend, and provides me with a wealth of inspiration for my own work.
How do you brainstorm setting? What inspirations do you draw on when it comes to world-building?
For this week’s installment of Monday Inspirations, I return to the world of fashion. Today, we’re exploring steampunk fashion, my current obsession. I’ve loved the 19th century ever since I was a little girl — the result of watching films like Anne of Green Gables and My Fair Lady obsessively. I penned silly romances set during the period, and fantasized about living in a big Victorian house, complete with a glass-enclosed conservatory filled with palms and white wicker furniture; in my mind, I would host fancy tea parties and champagne brunches while flitting about in gorgeous gowns.
Years may have passed since those early childhood fancies, but one thing remains constant: my appreciation of 19th century fashion. It should come as little surprise that I am unbelievably enamored with the whole steampunk movement, which marries Victorian sensibilities with steampowered technology. As I work on tell me no lies, my steampunk romance/murder mystery, fashion is a central focus. The following is a selection of some of my favorite pieces that I’ve encountered during the research process.
gowns and full outfits.
This bridal gown, designed by the Australian-based Gallerie Serpentine, is one of my favorites. I adore the gold-striped overcoat (particularly the leg-of-mutton sleeves, and the lace ruffle around the cuffs), and gown is also exquisite. And, of course, I love the model’s brass goggles — an essential accessory for every steampunk woman.
This two-piece taffeta suit from Clockwork Couture is another of my favorites. Details like the high Chinese collar and the fitted cuffs, along with the teeny buttons running up the front of the bodice, are really lovely. I also can never refuse a bustle — the draping is just beautiful. This is something that I can imagine Tempest, my protagonist, wearing during her day-to-day life in San Francisco, as it’s a bit more sedate than the fancy and brightly colored costumes she wears while performing.
I also enjoy this outfit, where trousers, rather than voluminous skirts, are paired with a corset and cropped bolero jacket. I’m not sure how common it is for women to dash about in trousers in this tale, but I imagine that Tempest would enjoy wearing them, if only for the freedom of movement that they provide.
Lena Corazon writes steampunk and fantasy novels, drinks far too much tea, and has an unhealthy obsession with Byronic heroes. She blogs about books, sparkly things, her masochistic relationship with academia, and anything else that tickles her fancy.
