“I have seen the gears and furious machinery of the world
that lies unreckoned beneath our feet. No longer can I note, as other men do,
the passing hours upon the heavens’ gilded face, without a vision of a hidden
master-spring uncoiling to its final silence. I await the day when all clocks
shall stop, including the one that ticks within my breast. Do thou the same,
Reader, and profit from my example.”
K. W. Jeter coined the term ‘steampunk’, somewhat in jest,
to describe the warped alternate history Victorian feel of the books he, James
P. Blaylock and Tim Powers were writing. Although the term has since taken on a
life of its own, the books they were writing at the time – specifically
‘Homunculus’ and ‘Lord Kelvin’s Machine’ by Blaylock, ‘The Anubis Gates’ and
‘On Stranger Tides’ by Powers and ‘Morlock Night’ and ‘Infernal Devices’ by
Jeter – retain a strange alchemical magic that sets them apart from everything
that has come under the label since. Indeed, Jeter, Blaylock and Powers remain
difficult to classify by any rubric, and despite being the forefathers of the
genre all three of them have written a wide range of stories that cannot be so
easily classified under steampunk or any other heading. While those core six
books are a lot stranger than most steampunk fare, they also contain many of
the key elements of the genre, most prominently the recognisable but noticeably
alien Victorian (or thereabouts) London, and steam technology run amuck. Out of
all of them, Jeter’s ‘Infernal Devices’ is the most quintessentially steampunk,
and the one that pre-empts so much of what would come later. Despite similar
ground being well trod since, the original retains much of its charm, and has
enough characteristic Jeter weirdness to still surprise and entertain. Much
criticism is justifiably thrown at steampunk that it glamourises the Victorian
age whilst ignoring all the exploitation, jingoism and racism that fueled the
British Empire. However, the original works by Jeter, Power and Blaylock avoid
this pitfall due to their focus on poor, down and out and disenfranchised
characters and their healthy cynicism towards the upper classes.
‘Infernal Devices’
is a rollicking adventure story about George Dower, the very normal son of a
genius clockmaker and inventor, who manages to gets swept up in a plot to
destroy the world, shenanigans with a clockwork double and petty criminals who
can see the future, human-fish hybrids straight out of H. P. Lovecraft’s ‘The
Shadow Out Of Innsmouth’, and an attempt to save a dying race of selkies. It’s
written in convincing mock-Victorian style. Yet the reason it succeeds so well
is because it questions the assumptions of the time it emulates. George Dower,
our viewpoint character, maybe a model level-headed and morally upright English
citizen, but he is almost Bertie Wooster-ish in his bumbling incompetence. He
spends the whole book being manipulated by more savvy characters, and only
really figures out what’s going on right at the end. The only lord in the book,
Lord Bendray, is a dangerous lunatic bent on destroying the world, while the
only other upperclass character is a well-intentioned extremist who spends most
of the book trying to kill Dower for the greater good. Dower’s most trustworthy
(well, it’s a relative term) companions wind up being a pair of petty
criminals. Scape and Miss McThane may be confidence tricksters playing everyone
for everything their worth, but they wind up being the most charming characters
in the story, and are one of the few people who, for the most part, never wish
Dower any harm and team up with him on several occasions. Their modern,
slang-heavy speech, learned through hours spent looking into the future, offers
a nice counterpoint to Dower’s formal old fashioned style.
Crucially,
‘Infernal Devices’ doesn't shy away from either depicting the ingrained racism
of the time or commenting on it. When the Brown Leather Man – actually the sole
remaining selkie in an environmental suit – first pays Dower a visit and so
sets the plot in motion, Dower’s butler mistakes him for a person of colour and
makes some standardly racist assumptions – that the man is there to rob them,
and is drunk – and is immediately deflated by Dower, who for all his daftness
knows better than to stereotype people.
‘Infernal Devices’
also explores the environmental impact of the industrial age, another thing rarely
given consideration in steampunk. The reason for the Brown Leather Man’s
villainy is that the entire species of selkies save him have been wiped out
because a seaweed harvesting device invented by Dower’s father destroyed their
breeding ground. Like the classic scientific romances by H. G. Wells and Jules
Verne it emulates – the final chapter is even titled ‘Mr. Dower Sees It
Through’ in a blatant shout out and an echo of the same device in ‘Morlock
Night’ – ‘Infernal Devices’ warns against science unchecked by morality. Dower
senior is the very figure of scientific progress regardless of the cost – the
doomsday device he built Lord Bendray actually works because the man was too
arrogant to pass off a non-functioning piece of work even when scamming a delusional
lord. It is this hubris that allows everything else in the plot, all the other
characters’ various schemes, to take place. The old man’s folly is only
prevented from destroying the world at the price of his son’s innocence.
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