Infernal Devices: A Mad Victorian Fantasy by K.W. Jeter (1987)

If you're paying attention, which you're probably not, you'll notice today's selection is not a horror novel and it's the first time we've reviewed anything here other than horror. We've decided to expand the scope of our discussions to include other types of fantastic fiction not normally given the attention of more traditionally 'literary' works. While many of the books and films we review will be well-known classics within their genres, we also hope to uncover lesser-known works deserving of the attention of the general reader.

Infernal Devices is the first novel I've read in the now well-defined steampunk genre. Steampunk, as I understand it, is set exclusively in a Victorian setting, but contains many of the tropes of standard science fiction, including advanced technologies (though most rely on steam for energy, as opposed to electricity), time travel, alien beings, mysterious plot twists, and juvenile sexuality. While it has its roots in classic proto-sci-fi writers such as Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, it was refined in the 1980s by William Gibson, Tim Powers, James Blaylock, and K.W. Jeter. Here's a decent overview of the most important works in the genre. Jeter coined the term steampunk as a lighthearted response to the growing popularity of certain works outside of the more prevalent cyberpunk movement.

Infernal Devices deals with the bumbling adventures of George Dower, the son of a brilliant watchmaker and developer of advanced automatons. Dower has no specific will in the story, and the outrageous characters he meets and the outlandish events unfolding around him throughout the novel seem more of a brief and frightening interlude to an otherwise purposeless existence. Dower is visited in his father's shop by the mysterious Brown Leather Man who drops off a mechanical device and a strange coin that send Dower down a path leading him to strange piscine boroughs of London and the alien landscape of the Scottish Hebrides. He meets a coin forger, a pair of hustlers with strange futuristic accents, fishmen, elderly mad villains, temperance leaguers, whores, the Godly Army, and real-life selkies. There are several sudden reveals throughout the novel which change our perspective of all the prior events. None of these reveals seems earned by Dower, but only forced on him by a manipulative secondary character. Dower might be the key to destroying the earth, or he might be the key to saving it. The reader is not sure until the last ten pages.

Jeter's greatest strength is his deftness with the Victorian setting. He uses a breezy writing style which is eminently readable, but manages to imbue each scene with the grit and smoke of Dickens or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. When Dower walks through Wetwick, we see the shadowy alleys and the lurching denizens. We smell the rot swept into the gutters. Also, concerning the mechanical automatons, Jeter writes with verve. The Paganinicon, which resembles Dower in all ways except for his skill with a violin and another important tool (where lies Jeter's juvenile treatment of sexuality), enforces the fantastic and comedic tone of the novel.

While Infernal Devices is a greatly entertaining read, I feel it's maybe not the best introduction to the steampunk genres. Jeter hits all of the superficial cues. There's magical mechanical technology, flying machines, weird underclasses, secret societies, myths come to life. But one of the most important aspects of the genre, as I understand it, is the punk spirit underneath its most important works. We see no liberating of non-western individuals from the obscurity the Victorians doomed them to. Jeter only briefly addresses the perils of the technologies of the future. I'm not suggesting every novel should involve these themes, but Jeter's novel seems to be on the lighter end of the spectrum of this genre. It's still a pleasant read. I'd just call it more steamgentry than steampunk.

The Nightwalker by Thomas Tessier (1979)

Today's post will take the form of a discussion. We hope you enjoy.

Mark: OK, starting things off here . . .

Let me ask you, did you find the protagonist in The Nightwalker to be at all likeable? Because I think this is one thing that kept me from enjoying this book more--although I did like it.

When he first starts changing and hurting random people, he seems conflicted and upset about it, but there were times that he really just sorta rolled with it and overall came off as kind of a bastard. But then, I found that somewhat intriguing at the same time. I guess I still haven't made up my mind how I feel about this character. I did sometimes wish there was more of a protagonist, someone else to follow besides this guy exclusively.

So, did he actually change into a wolf or not? It's left fairly open, just like in Werewolf of Paris. I don't know if I like that or not--though I do like the descriptions, the brief descriptions, we get when he confronts a few of the folks towards the end, the stuff about his hands being gnarled and his walking strange. I don't feel that he turned into an actual huge hairy beast, though.

Michael: To answer your first question - no, I didn't find Bobby Ives especially likeable. I also found it striking that he did not express any sort of remorse for the senseless slayings of the people he was closest to. Especially, the first girl, Annie, who seems to be really quite normal and healthy. He doesn't dwell too long on whether he murdered her, and he doesn't express any real emotion, any sense of missing her. But I think Tessier tries to explain this with one of the Vietnam stories that Ives tells, the one where he kills the prostitute who has just impaled a soldier. I think we're supposed to understand that Bobby has been really desensitized to this type of violence. So, while Ives is not likeable, I think he is, at least, interesting and complex.

I liked the fact that Tessier didn't resort to too many overt werewolf cliches. We get the sense of Ives's metamorphosis, the way he turns into a lethal pretador. I don't want to see a huge hairy beast in this setting. I think it would take away from the reality of the text.

On that note, I'd like to bring up Miss Tanith. I was really worried when Ives started looking for a psychic to tell him what the hell was going on. This is a device that is used in too many horror novels. I don't want a hokey gypsy psychic to be the portal to the realm of the supernatural. But I thought Tessier handled this really well. Miss Tanith is very subtle in her reading of Ives's problem. She doesn't spout any mystical mumbo jumbo, just does her job like a professional. She helps Ives in a practical way, by locking him in the room and adjusting his diet and lifestyle. It would have totally ruined the novel for me if she did some sort of exorcism or other ritual.

Mark: Oh, I definitely agree on that count. Miss Tanith was very well-done. Not overused, and staying away from genre cliches as much as possible. I enjoyed the bit with Ives locked in the room, and also found it interesting that he didn't kill her at the end.

I liked this book, and I think Tessier could be an author worth checking out. The novella that came with edition I got was very good; I actually enjoyed it a little more than Nightwalker.

Anyway, I liked this book for the most part. The "stalking" scenes were particularly excited; he has a talent for writing action/suspense scenes.

Michael: Another thing I thought was really interesting was how Tessier brought the whole punk culture into the ending, after Ives meets Angel. He doesn't glamorize it or dismiss it as a disposal youth movement. I think he gives Ives exactly the right reaction at the basement punk show. This guy is more oriented to the Allman Brothers than punk rock, but he's got anger inside of him, so something about the aggression and sheer power of the music and the manic singer really gets to him. You don't get many believable descriptions of punk shows in fiction.

However, I think Tessier could have spent a lot more time on creating a rich and detailed portrait of London. I'm thinking he cut this book down to its barest bones, taking out anything that seemed unnecessary. But I would have loved to see more of Ives running around the city, getting into his head a bit more about how he feels about people. Being a Vietnam vet he's probably got some interesting views on everyday life, on the silly mundane things people do in a peaceful city. I'm thinking of some of those scenes in Taxi Driver where Travis Bickle is just looking at people. I want Ives to look at people more, to be more introspective and express some of his thoughts.

Mark: Yeah, the section with the punk shows was done very well. I liked that character, Angel. I kind of wish there was a bit more of her in the story.

Michael: Another thing I'd like to discuss, is Ives eating habits. I know this may seem like a strange line of criticism for a book (I'll call it dietism), but I think it's important. Ives eats nothing but honey and ginseng supplements and a vitamin here or there, and I think maybe he eats a hamburger soon after Annie dies.

I was really wondering what Tessier was getting at with this. I would have completely let it go if Ives only ate his honey and ginseng once or twice, but it comes up in almost every chapter. It reminded me a bit of this theme that runs through Marc Brandel's The Hand where the main character's wife gets into all this silly dieting and meditation to try to deal with the problems of her marriage, instead of confronting the real problem. Maybe Ives is trying to suppress his appetite for flesh by eating such a strange, bird-like diet. But I think in reality it probably serves to make him even more blood thirsty. I know I'd be ready to eat some joggers if I only ate honey all day long.

Mark: Yeah, that was very odd, and you're right, never fully explained. I immediately thought of a bear, how you figure bears like honey, but never gave it much consideration beyond that. It just seemed kind of, I don't know, animal-like?

Michael: Yeah. Maybe he was a werebear, not a werewolf. Werebear doesn't sound very scary though. It, in fact, sounds less scary than a plain old bear.

Another thing that's pretty striking in this novel is Tessier use of trashy sex descriptions, bordering on erotica, especially in some of the first scenes with Angel. Some of this was just a little too over the top for me. Not that any of it was too explicit, but I just thought that it came out of nowhere. Ives seemed like a normally sexually repressed dude who wouldn't have the nerve to screw with a woman the way he does with Angel. Is this the werewolf coming out? If so, it's an interesting concept. I don't know too many werewolf stories where the monster sexually ravishes his victims. Maybe it's a part of the legend that is generally neglected. Can you think of any films or books in which the werewolf is a sexual predator, as a well a predator predator?

Mark: Werebear may not sound that scary, but it DOES sound awesome.

The Howling. I don't recall exactly how the book differs from the movie, but I believe this would be one case.

Also, even though not technically a werewolf, when Dracula is in beast form and sexually assaults . . . Mina? Lucy? I can't remember which it is.

Check out this overview of Tessier's career.