For
some time I have been mulling over the notion of what comprises this
much-hyped sub-genre which has been doing the rounds of the Internet and of
fandom steadily for awhile. My sense is that it’s very trendy at the
moment and I can see its influence in many areas: music, fashion, literature. I
am however, coming very swiftly and decidedly to the conclusion that it is a
genre with a lot of style but with very little substance.
To
make things far more muddy than they ought to be, Steampunk has further
fractured itself into a bunch of sub-sub genres: Clockpunk; Teslapunk;
Dieselpunk, amongst others. Each of these has its own further fine shadings of
the basic premise, but I want to pin down the basis of the main genre before
jumping into these tangents. (It’s interesting to note that the Goth movement
did this fracturing thing too before it got comfortable with itself and settled
down.)
Essentially,
Steampunk posits a world wherein the fantastic notions of such writers as Jules
Verne and H.G. Wells came to pass: airships gliding on cavorite; giant pistols
shooting rockets to the Moon; Lost Worlds hidden in deep jungles; invaders from
Mars. As with most popular genres, the ideas build upon the foundation of an
enlightened society, in which men and women have equal status and
opportunities, in much the same way as many fantasy worlds do, out there in the
various literary and roleplaying environments. It springboards off Victorian
notions of fashion and behaviour and must – inevitably – partake of the poison
chalice of the mindset of those times, with underlying philosophies of
Imperialism and social hierarchy. Steampunk focuses upon technology, in much
the same fashion as did its parent genre, Cyberpunk; however, its concerns seem
to be wildly different.
The
first Steampunk work of fiction is widely touted as Bruce Sterling and William
Gibson’s The Difference Engine, a
tale of the intrepid pioneers of the computing era, Charles Babbage and Ada
Lovelace. The first book to be published that arguably evolved within the
notion of a ‘steampunk genre’ is reputedly K.W. Jeter’s Morlock Night (and Jeter is credited with having coined the term
explicitly). It can be argued though, that the works of Verne and Wells et.al., in that they test the limits of
Victorian society by exposing it to outré elements, are obviously the seminal
works of the realm.
These
days there is a burgeoning stable of Steampunk writers out there, including China
Mieville, Tim Powers, Scott Westerfeld, Cherie Priest & Philip Pullman; but these
writers all split the genre even further with their myriad works, until trying
to pin down the essence of ‘what is Steampunk?’ is a lot like trying to stamp
on a scuttling cockroach in a dark kitchen.
Trying
to identify ‘steampunk music’ is even harder: various websites list what their
moderators have chosen as Steampunk bands and performers; however, a common
element in trying to define what the term means with regard to music is the
following: it’s Steampunk if the band says
they’re Steampunk. Surely, that can’t be an objective criterion?
Websites
like Etsy, which display the craft efforts of many artists, define certain
works as ‘steampunk’, as long as they have cogs or clock faces on them (also
octopi, which seem to have become a Steampunk motif, for some obscure reason):
again, is this sufficient? It seems to me that there has to be something at the
bottom of the genre; some reason for it to be around. So does Steampunk say
anything about the human condition? Does it code for any universal truths which
must be explored or examined? Or is it simply “Cool”?
Good
writing does more than simply tell a good tale. At its core it touches upon
universal experience to which the readers respond and find within it hidden
depths; it also tells a good tale.
Science fiction – the genre from which Steampunk ultimately derives – takes the
human condition and explores what happens to it when destabilizing technologies
impinge upon it. It allows us to perceive the dramatic impacts that unbridled
technological excess have on society; it brings the “we can do this – but
should we?” question right to the fore.
On
some levels, Steampunk looks like it would do this too; however, it seems more
gleefully over-the-top than the more dystopian genres, and wholly unconcerned
with outcomes. In fact, the number of times I see computers and guitars and
motorbikes online that have been “modded” into Steampunk constructions, the
more I feel that consequences are way down on everyone’s list of things of
which to be aware.
In
searching for the roots of this movement, I find I focus more strongly on
things that don’t openly declare
themselves as part of the genre. For example, the group “Abney Park”,
self-consciously yodelling about how they’re all airship pirates, is less truly
Steampunk to me than Phillip Glass’ score for the movie “The Illusionist”, or the electric swing of “Caravan Palace” with
its roots in Django Reinhardt’s gypsy guitar.
The
notion of re-using and recycling is a very strong theme in Steampunk – the concept
of building and maintaining an enormous, unwieldy piece of technology is a key
element in such fiction as 20,000 Leagues
under the Sea (which is also probably how we get the octopi!) and The Time Machine and is echoed by the
wholesale nature of “Steampunk modding” and the "Maker Movement". But then, which is more Steampunk:
Chitty-chitty Bang-bang or the Millennium Falcon? Can we classify “Dr Who”, or“Firefly” as Steampunk on the same basis (and yes, I saw the
episode of “Castle” where Nathan
Fillion gets up in Steampunk drag)?
A
genre is defined as a series of motifs and literary or stylistic relationships
that are consensually accepted by all those who experience it; if its rules
don’t apply across the board, then it’s not a true genre per se. At this stage of my investigation, I’m pretty sure I can
spot Steampunk when I see it but sometimes I’m brought up short by things which
I’m told fall under that heading when I really don’t see how, or why.
Steampunk
has to be more than cogs and goggles. Certainly it should have those too, but
it needs to say something at the same
time. At this point it seems to me to be a vehicle looking for something to
carry.
In
the meantime, I’m hoping to claim the credit for identifying the first
Steampunk Poet. Here’s a piece by Roger McDonald pleasingly entitled “Airship”:
“Recovered
from pale blueprints
and
forgiven its heritage of charred metal
the
airship moves at the wind’s direction
through
the next world. A high
slipstream
of time
brings
it in view: just
bouncing,
it seems, from cloud-edge
to treetop, almost a milky
bubble.
Now,
this moment we peer,
throats
tensed ready to shout,
the
ship tilts its nose to the sun
and
its oval shadow contracts to a grasspatch
as it shimmers and
disappears.
What
message arrives from the mariner
trapped
in this bottle? Silence.
A
freak of technology has lifted his tongue –
someone,
somewhere, knows and speaks his name:
perhaps he’s among us now,
not yet alone.”
From “Airship”, by Roger McDonald, 1975,
University of Queensland
Press, St. Lucia, Qld, Australia
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