So the Georgians had laughing gas parties...

Thursday, July 12, 2012

I watch game shows quite often, generally because the completely random things they ask the contestants from time to time give me ideas for things to look into. Today I happened to hear a question regarding the early use of nitrous oxide, so I looked into it...and found this.

Namely, in the 1790s, aristocrats started using nitrous oxide recreationally at parties. They referred to these as 'laughing gas parties' and basically all gathered in rooms and breathed in the gas until they reached a euphoric state. It sounds an awful lot like getting high with your friends, only with less harmful drugs and more gases that work as anesthetics. I can't speak from experience on either front since the only drugs I've ever taken at the dentist are modern anesthesia and Novocain and the only recreational drug I've ever used doesn't really count since it's the caffeine in my soda (although I am trying to curb my addiction, which is a story for another time), but I think it's a fitting analogy.

I did a little research on these 'laughing gas parties' because it sounded like something Nigel would stumble onto in his research and have to experiment with because he's Nigel, and here's what I found:

• There's a George Cruikshanks engraving of one. That makes it legit.
• It also turns out this is where the phrase 'it's a gas' comes from. Never saw that one coming even though I probably should have. Apparently I fail as a historian after I've spent the entire day building an IKEA desk to do artwork on.
• Just look at what an image search digs up! This is great primary source material, folks!

By the 1860s, nitrous oxide was being used as anesthesia for dentistry, but until then it was relatively uncommon and hard to come by, so these parties were generally reserved for the wealthier set. That being said, Nigel has access to both scientific research and money, so he'd be able to grab some for himself easily to see if it both kills pain and makes people euphoric and giddy. Which means he needs test subjects. Which means the domestic staff should run very, very far away because he tends to experiment on them.

And then there's his deadpanning big brother - Basil's involvement in this could be pretty darn interesting. I'll be filing this one away to see what I can do with it at a later time...

Reconciling Steampunk With History

Friday, March 16, 2012

Nigel, Basil's little brother, dabbles in every science possible.

I personally greatly enjoy steampunk. It fascinates me to see speculative history - namely, what the Victorians would have done with our technology, albeit with their versions running on steam and other available power sources from the 19th century. In fact, I think it would be awfully fun to write a steampunk story at some point down the road. However, here's my problem - Londinium is strictly historical fiction, and I do a ton of research to make sure I get all of my details right. There's no place for science fiction in Londinium...

...or is there?

Turns out what I can do is include science fact. The easiest way for me to do that is, of course, more research. See the fellow in the post here? That's Nigel Remington, Basil's younger brother. Nigel explores everything. He dabbles in biology, chemistry, physics, astronomy, ancient civilization, and even Babbage's difference engines (computers - really). Above all, Nigel's dream is to achieve powered flight, and whilst he won't be pulling that one off (some folks from Dayton, Ohio beat him to that in 1903), he tries every possible solution available to him in 1863. He's taught himself how to read hieroglyphics from other scholars' research, making him one of the few individuals in Britain at the time who can read them, and he eventually earns himself a position at the British Museum due to this skill. (He's the younger son and doesn't inherit the estate - Basil does - so he needed a job.)

Nigel wasn't going to be a very important character initially, but when I realized what I could explore with him he became much more prominent in redrafts. It's Nigel's brain that gets the cast through difficult situations a lot of the time, namely because he's so off-the-wall brilliant and thinks outside the box. If Londinium does well enough, I might even consider giving Nigel a Jules Verne-style spinoff series of his own just because it would be fun to write.

Nigel is perhaps the character who best embodies Victorian society's progressive, optimistic attitudes: as far as Nigel's concerned, science can get things done as long as you stick to it and keep exploring. Steampunk as a genre takes these attitudes and propels them in a science fiction direction, allowing the Victorian world to evolve into a mirror image of our modern society were it powered primarily by steam and not electricity. However, when you look at the things the Victorians were actually doing during the 19th century, steampunk really isn't too far off as a possibility. I mean, look at this thing:

This is Henson's Aerial Steam Carriage, also known as Ariel, in a painting from 1843.

Henson's Aerial Steam Carriage was patented in 1842. By 1848, a small mockup of the thing made successful flights in a hangar. Powered by steam, the machine was designed to ferry passengers like jet planes do today. Unfortunately, it was too heavy to properly lift off, much less carry people, but it was a step in the right direction. Oh, and this thing is real. Ariel existed. It looks a lot like something out of a Verne book, doesn't it?

There's plenty more examples out there, definitely. I won't put them all in one giant post, but they're out there. Basically, the point is that steampunk is closer to what actually happened than most people think it is - there's a ton of genuine history that is essentially 'real steampunk.' And that's the kind of steampunk you'll see from me.

New Character Art: Nigel and Arabella Remington

Monday, January 2, 2012

Nigel and Arabella are Basil's younger brother and sister, respectively. Nigel's 23 and as the younger son has been taking on various academic posts and traveling the world and all that jazz. By Book Three, we find him working for the British Museum, which is a dream job for him. He's always trying to experiment and invent, as well, and he's kind of sort of obsessed with flight.

Arabella, on the other hand, is only 19. She's a very talented painter, so her sketchbook travels with her often. She's of marrying age, so she's officially on the market. (Imagine the irony if she married 26-year-old William Conrad, also an artist, but...well, a very different kind of artist.)

Oh, and the reason Will's now listed as being 26...I've retconned Basil and Co. to be a little younger. I'm not sure why, but I just felt like it worked a little better for some reason.