What is Steampunk?

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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