The Spirit of Armchair Exploration

For my end-of-summer, jeez-I-need-a-break vacation, I took the family to Lincoln. We’ve been planning to visit Lincoln for a while – it’s one of the few major cathedral cities I haven’t seen (I have a thing for cathedrals – they humble and inspire me for reasons I’ve talked about here). While Googling things to do in Lincoln, I came across notices for the Asylum Steampunk Festival, which was being held in the city over the long weekend. I thought it would be good for a giggle while we saw the rest of the city.

It turned out to be the highlight of my summer.

First, there were the costumes, which were fabulous. I’ve posted them on Twitter and Facebook, but here’s the pair I liked the best.

(Image (c) E.J. Frost 2015.)

I just could not get over how much work had gone into these costumes. I saw this couple again on the second day of the festival and they had different costumes on. The design was similar, but the fabrics, feathers, accessories, were all different. I was floored. I didn’t see them on the third day, so I don’t know if they had THREE of these magnificent get-ups, but I was so impressed that they had more than one. This is clearly a big thing for these folks (who came from all over – I met steampunkers from as far away as Australia), and that level of dedication alone really impressed me. It also made me feel much better about the effort and time I put into my writing, which sometimes feels like a Sisyphean task.

Second, there was the whole vibe of steampunk, which for me is the spirit of armchair exploration. The Victorians loved exploring exotic locations, but they wanted to do it comfortably. One of cosplayers I saw summed it up for me perfectly: her gown was patterned with maps, she was carrying a butterfly net, and she had a copper teapot strapped to her back (I’m so sorry I didn’t get a picture of her outfit – it was really perfect). That’s the essence of armchair exploration – a longing for places unknown, explored at low risk, looking for fresh wonders, with a cup of tea at hand.

Although I don’t write steampunk (and read very little of it, although I enjoyed Gail Carriger’s Parasol Protectorate series and my buddy Ian Tregillis has just started a new series with The Mechanical), I felt really connected to the steampunkers. I think it was because the spirit of armchair exploration calls to me. It’s what I do in my own writing, even though I write about the future rather than an alternative past. I also think that spirit is behind the explosion of “fantastic” literature in the last 50 years. We’ve mapped the heart of Africa. We’ve traveled up the Amazon. We’ve conquered Everest so many times that it’s become a “tourist” mountain. There are few places left on Earth to explore. But there’s something about the human spirit that still longs for discovery, so we’ve turned inward, to our imaginations.

I’m sympathetic to the argument that literature is exhausted. I got my English degree in the Ivory Towers of the 1990s and my courses were dominated by deconstruction – the death of the author, the loss of a common language for literary expression, the dissolution of post-modern ideas into non-verbal expression. Gore Vidal’s quote: “we shall go on for quite a long time talking of books and writing books, pretending all the while not to notice that the church is empty and the parishioners have gone elsewhere to attend other gods” was the touchstone for several of my professors. And I suffered from that existential malaise for a while myself after graduating.

Then I started writing again.

I have a fundamental longing to explore places fantastic, even if they only exist in my mind. I also have a need to share what I find with others. I know from my book sales that I’m not alone in that longing, but to SEE it, strolling the streets of Lincoln, decked with cogs, gears, feathers and copper teapots, was a rare blessing.

I’ll definitely go back to Lincoln next year for the 2016 festival. Long live the spirit of armchair exploration!