This new steampunk series opens in 1880, when women aren't allowed to vote, much less dress up in a costume and fight crime. But twenty year-old socialite Sarah Stanton still dreams of becoming a hero. Her opportunity arrives in tragedy when the leader of the Society of Paragons, New York's greatest team of gentlemen adventurers, is murdered right before her eyes. To uncover the truth behind the assassination, Sarah joins forces with the amazing mechanical man known as The Automaton. Together they unmask a conspiracy at the heart of the Paragons that reveals the world of heroes and high-society is built on a crumbling foundation of greed and lies. When Sarah comes face to face with the megalomaniacal villain behind the murder, she must discover if she has the courage to sacrifice her life of privilege and save her clockwork friend.
As I was browsing the shelfs in my local Borders bookstore amid liquidation and "going ouy of Business" signs, I happened to find this little gem of a book, all alone on a desolate sci-fyi section book shelf.
I read the summary, read a few pages, liked it enough and for the 50% off price, I bought it and took it home. Back then i was really interested in steam-punk genre - (its pretty cool and interesting concept) and my curiosity got me excited about the book.
Unfortunately, the book had a slow start - and when I mean slow, I MEAN slow. The organization was a bit off and it was hard to keep track of where I was in the plot. (mind you, this is just my personal opinion and others might think differently).
This is the kind of novel that holds the perspectives of different people - I don't really like this kind of story telling, but to everyone has their own taste and preferences. It took too long for the plot to begin and I almost lost interest in finishing the book. While it is not my favorite steam punk novel - it certainly wasn't my least either. It was a fun book to read and kept me busy - thats all I really need out of a book.
Despite its chinks, I really liked it... well the ending at least. It has a pretty steep cliff hanger on this one. I almost feel like Mr. Mayer chopped a really good book in half... and he cut it where it was starting to get good... oh well. I originally was going to give this 2 stars, but the ending was so tantalizing that I gave it another star because I am so hyped up for the next book when it comes out. This book as a lot of potential.
But it makes me more excited for the next one.
I really do like cross-dressing/strong/stubborn/female figures.
What if the Justice League of DC Comics was less about super-powers and more about physical prowess, mental deduction, and mad inventions (fairly much out of the pulp adventures of Doc Savage or movie serial villains like Bela Lugosi in The Phantom Creeps)? Then, what if this not-entirely super group of heroes were placed in the late 19th century U.S. when the use of steam was driving the transformation of industry and transformation? What if you took a page of George R. R. Martin’s Wild Cards series and transformed “The Turtle” into “The Iron Clad” or the late Dave Stevens' (though my original attribution to Neal Stephenson was somewhat amusing) Rocketeer (now written by Mark Waid) and transformed him into “The Turbine” (although Turbine’s personality is nothing like Cliff’s in the former and ironically, more like the spoiled and self-centered Flash that Waid penned in the 1990s)?
Imagine Sherlock Holmes transported to the U.S. of this era, renamed “The Sleuth,” and having his sexual orientation clarified by establishing an open relationship with the organization’s founder, Dr. Darby, and having other characters use deprecatory language about him. Since one of the major protagonists within “The Paragons” is “The Industrialist,” it might even be far to compare him to “Iron Man” of another group, Marvel’s Avengers, except for the fact that another Paragon (Dr. Darby) is the real inventor and founder of the Paragons—Tony Stark, Doc Savage, and Reed Richards rolled into one.
Anyone who knows my personal taste would know that the bulk of this set-up should really capture my interest. Add to these potentially interesting characters (and the important qualifier is “potentially”) a fiery young woman, a daughter of privilege with suffragette sympathies and a courageous loyalty to those she cares about, and then, feature such fascinating venues for action as the unfinished Brooklyn Bridge and the disembodied arm of the Statue of Liberty as solicitations were made for the money needed to assemble Lady Liberty on what would become popularly known as “Liberty Island.” And to all of that, add a sentient “fortified steam”-powered android known as “The Automaton” that seems quite similar to Neil Gaiman’s Mr. Hero. How could The Falling Machine and the rest of the trilogy known as The Society of Steam possibly miss?
The truth is that, at least in my mind, it misses by having pacing more akin to a sleepy elephant than a caffeinated antelope. I don’t suppose readers would like either end of that hypothetical continuum, but it should be helpful in communicating the plodding pace of the story. That is, the pace plods in all but two scenes—the first and the last. But neither one really makes sense. In the first scene, the violence is instigated in order to deliver a message, the kind of maniacal, twisted, egotistical message you would expect from the “Uber-villain” of a pulp novel. Yet, wouldn’t the egotistical “bad guy” want to rub his rival’s nose in the defeat? Wouldn’t he want to savor the feeling of helplessness? Although Andrew Mayer needs the death of this major protagonist and threat to his “greatest work” as a plot device, he doesn’t do enough with it to make it worthwhile (in my inexpert opinion) and, actually, rather wastes interesting opportunities to exploit dissension in The Paragons more effective than the posthumous ones the novel adopts. But I suppose Mayer wanted to establish the fact that he was willing to kill of his protagonists right from the beginning. In that sense, I guess he wanted his world to look as dangerous and threatening as the world of George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire. Yet, even when Martin kills off interesting characters with futile, eccentric, and meaningless deaths, he uses those deaths to craft a more menacing world. With Mayer, it simply feels “gimmicky.” Deaths in Martin’s work impact me viscerally and even as a reader, I feel “diminished” or “relieved” by the demise of certain characters. Deaths in The Society of Steam seem either contrived or inevitable—not satisfying.
Further, in spite of the comparison with old movie serials (which I enjoy in spite of the overuse of cliffhangers), I resented the abrupt ending of The Falling Machine which was neither a cliffhanger nor a resolution. NOTHING was resolved, NOTHING was advanced, and NOTHING satisfied. I’m going to give the second volume a chance, but that is only because my local library has a copy and not because I would spend money on this. With the exception of Sarah, the female protagonist, the characters seem cardboard, stereotypical, and contrived. The Falling Machine could have been so much more if it hadn’t fallen on its face.
Sarah Stanton is the daughter of the Industrialist, one of the founding members of the Society of Paragons- a group of gentlemen adventurers who police New York City. Having grown up surrounded by the exploits and inventions of the Paragons Sarah has the mind and motivation to be an adventurer herself, if it weren’t for her protective father. And the at times overwhelming obstacle of her gender. She is a strong, outgoing female without seeming out of place in her setting- an unconventional woman having grown up in a very unconventional household. Her mother died when she was very young, leaving her to be raised by her wealthy father (who was busy between running his business empire and moonlighting as the Industrialist). While Sarah and her father are often in conflict with each other, there are moments throughout the book where we see how much they love each other, and it keeps the relationship from settling into the designation of being just another plot device.
From the opening, it becomes apparent that there is a traitor within the Paragons. As the deaths and disasters start to pile up, Sarah joins forces with the fascinating mechanical man known as the Automaton in an attempt expose the conspiracy. The Automaton, once a Paragon himself, charged with murder and betrayal and considered nothing more than a rogue weapon to be destroyed, will be stretched thin as he tries to defend those who are intent on destroying him, and get revenge for the death of his creator.
The Falling Machine is set in a Victorian New York City, and between the Paragons and the villains that oppose them, is peopled with characters reminiscent of the Gold Age of Comics. It is a fast, fun read. I was very fond of the old themed style of villains and heroes, and the Automaton (or Tom, as his friends call him) is a fabulous character. I was also very fond of the Sleuth, one of the Paragons and ally to both Tom and Sarah.
There are loose ends, and the book ends rather abruptly as it sets up for the second book in the series. I can understand why the book ended when it did, but there were enough questions still hanging in the air that I worry I will lose those threads by the time book two is released. That being said, I do look forward to reading more.
(Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com]. I am the original author of this essay, as well as the owner of CCLaP; it is not being reprinted illegally.)
There are some who say that the science-fiction subgenre known as "steampunk" is all played out by now, and that there's nothing new to be added to the endless tales of high-tech-meets-Victoriana we've already seen in the last twenty years; and to all of these people, all I can say is, "Screw you, good sir!" Because when it comes to steampunk, I'm a dyed-in-the-wool fanboy, one of those annoying genre enthusiasts who happily eats up just about every project of the type that even exists, merely because it exists, making no apologies for the quality or lack thereof of any particular one. Take for example Andrew P. Mayer's The Falling Machine, part one of a new series called "The Society of Steam," which takes as its premise something that actually is a bit unique within this genre -- namely, steampunk meets superheroes, the "Society" in question being a sort of Victorian Justice League with costumes, catchphrases, secret identities and even their own tricked-out Manhattan headquarters (the old family mansion of one of its founders, located in a Midtown that was still at the time mostly wilderness, the building itself so inventive and crafty that most of this book's plot actually takes place there). And that's smart and interesting, which is why I reacted so favorably to it; but I have to confess, unless you're a steampunk aficionado like myself, it's otherwise hard to love this novel, packed to the gills as it is with easy stereotypes from the genre and a writing style that never rises above serviceable. Absolutely worth your time if you've actually ever worn a steampunk costume out in public, but not so much if you haven't, it comes recommended in that specific spirit.
Well, this may be the first "steampunk superhero" story, but I have to admit I'm not a big fan of superheroes in general, and I found the story to be unexceptional (and unfinished - it's a cliffhanger with a sequel on the way). I try not to complain about typos in ARCs (there are many), but the lack of commas before a character's name throughout the book seemed to be more than a typo (it was consistent), and was very distracting. (There's a difference between "You know, John" and "You know John.") Anyway, the story is about a young (and irrelevantly beautiful) woman, Sarah, who happens to be the daughter of a member of a sort of faux-Justice League in 19th-century New York. Their leader dies and wills the leadership of the group to his automaton. However, a traitor who wishes to circumvent his will, and oh, also bring about the end of the world, is secretly at work. Sarah and the automaton are the only ones who realize the truth. The superhero group's powers rest in the fact that their recently-deceased leader was an inventor who discovered some sort of radioactive substance with which he produces "fortified steam." The portrayal of this energy source is every bit as ridiculous and unrealistic as Spiderman being bit by a radioactive arachnid.
It has a lot of loose ends (characters who appear briefly never to re-appear, &c). Perhaps these will be tied up in future books, but I won't go out of my way to find them.
This book was horrible. As I was reading it, I honestly had to question whether or not it had been edited--there were sentences missing words there were a lot of stylistic choices that I found distracting and unusual, to say the least. There are also many paragraphs of description that when read aloud make no sense whatsoever (believe me, I tried).
I also didn't appreciate that all the lower class characters were depicted as being ugly, fat, or both. Oh, and villainous. Our heroine, of course, is a drop-dead gorgeous socialite who is perfect in every way.
In other words: don't bother.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A friend described THE FALLING MACHINE to me as "part Sherlock Holmes, part Justice League of America, all Steampunk." I think he hit the nail on the head. I'm not a huge steampunk fan -- as a genre I have no problem with it, but I don't tend to be drawn to it -- but this premise intrigued me. And the author's appearance on the #sffwrtcht thread on Twitter a few weeks back helped cement my decision to read it.
It is both a fast read and a good read. I was immediately pulled into the world Mayer has obviously lovingly created. The attention to the details of 1880s New York City pays off in a number of places, from the opening sequence on the still-incomplete Brooklyn Bridge to a visit to the infamous Five Points district. Mayer, sometimes in just a sentence of two, conveys both the shining hope and dirty underbelly of "the greatest city in the world" at that period in time, name-dropping real life personalities like Thomas Alva Edison and inserting his steam-powered super-heroes fairly seamlessly into the real history. He even manages to drop a comment or two about why the existence of steam-powered super-heroes hasn't appreciably changed history ... yet.
Sarah and Tom (The Automaton) are the most full-realized characters in the book, as it should be since they are the focus. Sarah is a great central heroine -- and even better, she's not perfect. She makes mistakes, gets herself into scrapes, and needs the help of friends to get out of some of them. In other words, she's a very real person dealing with out-of-the-ordinary situations... just what I like in my fiction.
I also have to give credit to Mayer for creating a pair of secondary characters I want to know far more about. It would have been easy to let the steam-powered members of The Paragons be mostly one-note riffs on whatever their individual theme happened to be, but he's given almost all of them some deeper characteristic (almost all ... the Submersible feels like a stereotype, and Nathan/Turbine does as well) to make them stand apart. The two secondary characters I really wanted to see developed (and this being the first book of a trilogy, with a rich history to be explored, there's plenty of time) were The Professor and The Sleuth. Their relationship is at first implied, and then outright commented on, derogatorily, by their peers. Gay-bashing was just as much a part of 1880s life as it is now, if not moreso, and while many of us would like to imagine our super-heroes would be more accepting than real people are the fact that Mayer includes some queer-baiting among the team's conversations feels more realistic to me, especially considering this book takes place during Oscar Wilde's lifetime. Still, I hope we'll get to see more of The Professor and The Sleuth's history in subsequent books.
If there's any downside to this book, it is that it explicitly IS the first book in a trilogy, and it makes no apologies or concessions. If you get to within 50 pages and you're wondering, "wow, how is Mayer going to wrap all of this up," don't be surprised that he doesn't. He wraps some of it up, but the book ends with a fat old cliffhanger that has me wishing book two was already on the stands.
This is a fun book in the spirit of George Mann's Ghosts of Manhattan, though lighter at least in tone if not in events which turn darker in the second half.
Superheroes and steampunk in a true age of steam and in New York rather than London at about the time the Brooklyn Bridge was being built - that would be ~1880 and see note below - since the novel starts with a superb action sequence on its construction site - the book moves fast and furious and it delivers what I expected of it quite well with only one niggle, namely it's a little too short and it ends when things become the most interesting with not quite a cliffhanger, but not even a partial resolution either... Though of course this means the sequel became an asap for me since I really want to know what happens next
The other thing I liked about the book beside the setting and author's narrative flow that does not let go, were the characters since despite starting as more-or-less stock (the genius professor, the rich industrialist playing at superhero, the young up and coming blade , "the girl" aka the daughter of the industrialist, the mechanical man and the famous detective superhero, plus the assorted villains, all with funny names but in the spirit of the tale told here) they develop in sometimes unexpected directions and acquire distinctive personalities, most notably the main heroine Sarah Stanton and Tom the mechanical man with a secret.
One thing confused me a little though, namely there is a mention the book takes place in 1808 which does not sound right the way things are set as noted above, but it may be a typo - after all I read a review copy which may not be the final edited copy that will appear in stores in May - for 1880 which would be about right (note - as seen in the comments below, the action takes place in 1880 and that was indeed a typo)
Fun and fast debut which succeeds at what it promises
As usual the full FBC rv will be added closer to the publication date
It's a bold claim, but this is a serious contender for the title of Worst Book I've Ever Read.
How do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways:
- It is obvious from the novel's repeated references to gender roles that this is supposed to be a feminist story, but it fails completely and utterly in that regard. Male authors! You are not writing a feminist story if you objectify your own female characters when you describe their appearance! Don't! Be! Gross! It is VERY clear that the author has a very specific idea of the perfect woman, and that woman is his stunningly beautiful, blonde, blue-eyed, slim-figured, highly intelligent protagonist. The very first description of her had me thinking 'gag me with a spoon'. It felt like reading a Sarah J Maas book, which is the lowest comparison I can think of. AND THEN! At the end of the book! He has her dressed in a shirt with a corset over top and she has to use her garters on the sleeves! WE GET IT IT, YOU HAVE A FETISH. Have the decency to leave the rest of us out of it. Also, as pretty as the cover art is, I have to laugh at Sarah's smokey eye makeup. Yes, that's very 1880 of her, nicely done.
- This is to say nothing of the (very minimal) other female characters, who are described as having 'ample' hips and rear ends. I was actively praying for the sweet release of death every time a woman was on the page.
- On that note, to be a feminist story, you really need to have more than one female character, and I mean a significant character. Not a couple of timid maids -- one of whom magically becomes less timid when the plot requires it -- or dead mothers whose bad advice echoes in their child's head -- again, inconsistently and only when the plot requires it. The parallel of this happening to both Sarah and her father could have been cool, but alas, like everything else in this novel, it was underused and haphazardly thrown in with no real purpose.
- Also: feminism =/= hating everything remotely feminine. That's literally the opposite of feminism.
- A tip for anyone of authorial inclination: if you're going to write about corsets, the first step is learning that the vast majority of historical corsets, if made and worn properly (as they would have been worn by a wealthy young woman like Sarah), don't actually hinder breathing.
- Tip #2: don't be one of those people that says 'waste not, want not' is from the Bible. That literally takes 1 minute of Google research.
- The writing style was incredibly simplistic, to the point of being boring. There is little variation in sentence length, and the action is described so simply that there isn't any urgency to it, which in turn means it creates no emotional response in the reader. There were also a lot of glaring typos and awkward wording choices, which only serves to further my suspicion that it was not edited well.
- Related to the previous point: it's boring. There is almost no emotion for the reader to latch onto because the characters hardly feel any. Sarah witnesses the man she is ‘falling in love with’ get murdered, and there’s almost no description of her grief afterwards. I was nearly halfway through and still wondering when I was going to get a sense of who Sarah was as a person. It tells you a lot of things that have happened to her, and things that she does, but there was no indication of why she did them or what she wanted. She has almost no character flaws, and the one she does have never really causes much of an issue. And so much time is spent looking at things from other characters’ narration that the reader doesn’t get much of a chance to get attached to her. Again, a feminist story doesn’t really work when your main character is the only woman and only narrates about half of the book.
- It's choppy. Again, this is a fault of the writing style. You can see it just by flipping to a random page: there are paragraph breaks everywhere. I don't think there's a paragraph in the book longer than a third of a page. It helps to create the complete lack of urgency in any of the action because the author seemingly doesn't want to spend more than a few sentences on anything before jumping to the next thing. There's no suspense and no development (both character and plot-wise) because nothing gets a chance to build.
- A few little annoyances: Tom's hand is described as bronze, and then steel. Hello??? Which is it??? Wickham gets a knife lodged in his chest, pulls it out, and then??? sprints across a whole neighbourhood. The injury is never mentioned again. Wickham says Tom isn't good at guile/trickery/lying. One page later, Wickham reveals that Tom has been faking his mechanical problems and Wickham has known it all along. Consistency? Never heard of it!
- There's a scene where the leader of the superhero team considers enlisting a KKK member. This could have been an interesting commentary on racism or something, but it's just... there, and doesn't serve any purpose. In fact, there are many things that are introduced that simply go nowhere and add nothing to the story: The ruffians the Sleuth fights, who are both given a distinct personality, only to never appear again; the Stanton butler, who is repeatedly described as if he's important even though he is entirely extraneous to the plot; Anubis, who's there for... some reason; the continual references to Greek mythology that don't actually have any symbolism... I could go on.
- There's also a very stereotypical Jewish villain -- described in all the typical anti-Semitic ways, and then portrayed as greedy and selfish immediately before dying horribly. He also happens to be a very stereotypical disabled villain, portrayed as evilly trying to make up for his disability, using his prosthetic as a weapon, and dying horribly. Ableist and racist at the same time! How original.
- The amount of times villains or icky things were described as 'insane' or 'demented' -- words which are never used to describe any of the very flawed heroes. As a mentally ill person, if I wanted to constantly experience microaggressions via superhero media, I'd just read a Batman comic.
- Which brings me to my final point: it doesn't do anything new or different with the superhero genre. I think that's probably what the author wanted to do, but there's so little emotion in the story that I find it hard to believe even the author cares much about that goal.
I read the whole thing, because I wanted to say I gave it a fair shake, but it was worse than I ever could have expected. I want to say 'at least it's short', but that's part of the reason why it's so undeveloped and boring. There isn't a single thing to say in its favour.
I owned this book for some time before I picked it up and began reading. Why? Because this novel has a major conceit that I found challenging to accept: What if the fictional twentieth-century superheroes we’re all familiar with have nineteenth century antecedents? How would they behave and dress, and what dilemmas would they face? To further complicate matters, this book is informed by Steampunk tropes and themes, and I couldn’t help but be worried that this interesting concept would devolve into a campy pastiche. But books are best when read and, likewise, opinions when they are informed.
At the open of the book the reader is introduced to Sir Dennis Darby, inventor extraordinaire and the aging leader of The Society of Paragons, a group of men who have been enhanced by technology and training to protect the city of New York from similarly enhanced villains. Darby is known as the Professor, and is the creator of Automaton, Tom for short. The mechanical man is an A.I., and has been given full membership in the Paragons, with the result that his fellow Paragons are resentful that the machine is being given rank and prestige any machine is not entitled to. But then Darby is ambushed while on an outing and subsequently murdered, and the clues suggest the murder was facilitated by a fellow Paragon. None of the Paragons seem interested in solving this mystery, and it is left to Darby’s greatest creation, the Automaton, and Sarah Stanton to unravel the clues.
Sarah is the daughter of Alexander Stanton, co-founder of the Paragons, and although her gender prevents her from becoming a Paragon she has pursued an education through her close friendship with The Professor. His murder, and the subsequent mistreatment of Tom, sends her on an investigation that reveals the presence of an allied group of villains known as The Children of Eschaton. She partners with Tom and Darby’s partner and fellow Paragon, The Sleuth, to solve the mystery. In the process she learns that the aging Paragons aren’t as heroic as they seem, and that the battle of good versus evil is far more complicated than she ever thought.
But even as the Children of Eschaton must be dealt with, the Paragons are unraveling under the strain of betrayal. Could the traitor be wealthy Alexander Stanton, known as The Industrialist, a man who was widowed seven years prior when his wife and daughter were abducted, an event that was prompted by his membership in the Paragons and led to his wife’s murder? Or is it The Submersible, Helmut Grüsser, a disgraced Prussian officer known for questionable behavior towards women? Bill Hughes, known as Iron-Clad, was a hulk of a man once upon a time, but a debilitating disease has put him in a chair; could his anger towards his reduced circumstances have prompted him to turn his back on the Paragons? Nathaniel Winthorp is The Turbine and the youngest member of the group by far: Was he corrupted by Eschaton? There are more questions than answers, and the situation is only getting grimmer as Eschaton’s followers begin a coordinated assault on the city and its heroes.
I will concede this novel feels like a comic book that was then converted into a full-length story, complete with outrageously costumed heroes and villains, fantastic weapons and technology, and a fully implausible, artificially intelligent, android. This feeling of dissociation is strengthened by the historically accurate depiction of the city and the division among gender, race, and socioeconomic status of its citizens. I was prepared to write a disappointed review in which I said it had all become a confused mess and how I wished it had all been done better.
Instead, I found the story engrossing, and every character has something more going on in their background. This narrative questions the nature of good versus evil, and how costumed heroes and villains are representative of a megalomania that is more self-serving than political. The Paragons are, with the exception of The Turbine and Tom, older gentlemen who have begun to think themselves invulnerable to a degree, and they aren’t able to see how their arrogance harms the people they’ve sworn to protect. The Children of Eschaton are clearly villains, but their villainy is shaded by the living conditions within the city of two million, and the public opinion that the Paragons aren’t working in the best interests of those who live in the poorest areas, but for those of the white upper and middle classes only. In the middle of all of this is Sarah, The Adventuress, who has grown into young adulthood with the ideal of the hero, only to discover he has clay feet and heroism requires selfless sacrifice unlike any she has seen. The story could have devolved into caricature, but it rises above this to give the reader a compelling narrative. Yes, it means accepting the fantastic and anachronistic elements as they are written, but this is a major conceit of Steampunk, and the reward is an entertaining story that is worth your time.
I’m giving the book a four out of five because there are some small inconsistencies that never seem to be dealt with. For example, Nathaniel Winthorp is Alexander Stanton’s stepson. At one point in the story he reminds Sarah he has known her for twelve years, since she was seven. Sarah’s mother was killed seven years prior, which means that Nathaniel could only have become her stepbrother in that last seven years, but this spouse is never mentioned, not even by Nathaniel, who never references either of his parents. Further, Alexander commemorates his wedding anniversary with his first wife, and the (presumed) second marriage seems non-existent. To further confuse matters, Nathaniel is romantically interested in Sarah despite their step-sibling status. It’s a bit of a confused mystery, and a plot twist that seems unnecessary.
But plot twists aren’t necessarily a bad thing, and my favorite plot twist is that of Anubis, one of the Children of Eschaton—or is he? Only one chapter in the book revolves around this character, and he is so engrossing I found myself rereading that chapter several times to glean every detail I could about him. I initially thought that, since this book is the first in a series, Anubis may be a potential romantic interest for Sarah in future installments. But further rereading has prompted me to rethink this and now I have a whole new theory and this, coupled with a doozy of a cliffhanger at the end of the novel, has me intensely impatient for the next book, which will be published in the Fall of 2011. I love it when books defy my expectations and reinvent them!
Book one of the Society of Steam series of Steampunk novels grabs you by throat right at the start with the death of a key figure one Sir Dennis Darby. Sit Dennis has created an automaton called Tom who we find out is powered by something called “Fortified Steam”. This is a power source of seemingly limitless power. The “Fortified Steam” is held in an object that looks like a glowing key which is stolen from Sir Dennis after he is killed.
The thief states that the Children of Eschaton have stolen the key. The Children of Eschaton are a dystopian organization bent on some maniacal plot that is not clear at the start of the book. There power source is “Fortified Smoke”.
Sir Dennis was not only the creator of “Fortified Steam” but also many other technical marvels and created a group called the Paragons. The mantra of this group is to protect those who can not protect themselves. Each member wears a costume , like the Justice League, and has a specific enhanced power. Enhanced by Sir Dennis who was also the head Paragon.
With Sir Dennis’s death the Paragons chose “The Industrialist” - Alexander Stanton - as their new leader over Sir Dennis’ specific request to have Tom the automaton as the leader.
There are epic battles , with clever technology used by both sides, between the Paragons and the Children of Eschaton.
At the end of this book the Children of Eschaton seem to have prevailed as they have stolen “Fortified Steam”, have killed Tom, and decimated the ranks of the Paragons. And the book ends right there to be continued in the second book of the series called “Hearts of Smoke and Steam”. The title is telling.
Mayer embraces the technology of Steampunk, the mannerisms of Victorian Age and the good versus evil collisions. He does, however , have these as a background to the human dynamics of the characters in the book and that is definitely his strength.
I did enjoy this read. The idea of superheroes and -villains in steam powered costumes and weird names really appealed to me. And it was fun. None of the characters are perfect, which I really appreciated. Sarah's father is very stern and unfair, but he obviously loves his daughter and he means it well. The potential 'love interest' (though I really hope he doesn't become that later in the series) is often quite mean and he does like his alcohol, which our heroine doesn't just let him get away with. The automaton is such a lovable character, and sometimes you forget he is just a kind of robot. Then there is 'The Sleuth', basically Sherlock Holmes. He is a genius, and it is insinuated that he is gay. He was just a great character.
At the center of this all is Sarah. She is smart and feisty. She is adventurous and certainly does not need a man to look after her. As great as she was, the sexual inequality was a bit too much in your face at times for my liking. She was shouting a bit too often that woman weren't allowed to vote, just like she was told too often to just stand there and look pretty because woman should leave the thinking to man for their own good. This was not always done at appropriate moments and almost fell more like Mayer showing off how big of a feminist he is. It could have been done more elegantly.
The pacing throughout the story was a bit off, but that didn't bother me too much. What did bother however was the ending. It wasn't so much a cliffhanger as it was just an abrupt cut. It was as if it was one book which had gotten too long so it was 'randomly' cut in half. Again, it could have been done so much more elegantly.
I will definitely continue with the series (I kind of have to, with an ending like that). There are a lot of unsolved questions and it was overall a very fun read with some interesting concepts.
I read an ARC and as the book will be published in May you have to wait for my full review until May. But of course I would like to share with you my first impressions.
The Society of Steam is the next steampunk series I definitely will follow.
It seems there is a kind of trend to use New York instead of London as setting for steampunk novels. I just remember Gods of Manhattan by Al Ewing and Ghosts of Manhattan by George Mann.
These three novels have more in common than one thinks at first sight.
Superheroes, a lot of action, New York and steam. They are all most entertaining.
The specific of The Falling Machine is the development of a female heroine in a misogynistic society and an extraordinary automaton.
The end is totally surprising because it is a mix of cliffhanger and partial solution. There is only one way out: Read the next book.
The Falling Machine presents a fascinating look at The Paragons, the greatest superhero team of the Gilded Age. As the team is torn apart by betrayal and corruption, the daughter of one of their members decided to investigate the murder of her mentor (and former Paragon leader). She teams up with a mechanical man (and lead suspect), and begins to learn the secrets of the heroes that she has spent her life idealizing.
It's good stuff.
Unfortunately, the books ends in a rather sudden cliffhanger, and the next book isn't out yet!
I enjoyed the story, and thought it was well-written, but something went wrong in the editing process. There are a number of typos scattered throughout the book. Come on, guys, that's just annoying.
Sarah Stanton is the only child of business magnate Alexander Stanton. She's a woman ahead of her time—her time being New York's 1880s, the Gilded Age of industry and technology, but otherwise behind on women's suffrage.
However, Sarah doesn't let her father or society's strictures slow her down. Sure she has to wear a bustle and corset, and her father wants to marry her off by the end of the season, but that doesn't stop her from trying to find Sir Dennis Darby's killer.
In the meantime, Darby's magnum opus, an automaton named Tom, is also trying to find his creator's killer. Unfortunately as a machine he's considered persona non grata, and the Paragons—the vigilante heroes of New York who use steam and technology to serve and protect, among whom is Alexander Stanton himself—refuse to follow Darby's last request to make Tom their new leader. They even go so far as to confine the automaton and refuse to repair him. Sarah sympathizes.
THE FALLING MACHINE by newcomer Andrew P. Mayer covers a lot of ground. What really makes a hero? Is it the mask and costume? Is it supernatural abilities? Is it their sense of morality? Steampunk fans—especially the YA variety—will enjoy this recent addition to the sub-genre. Not only are there superheroes and robots, but the steampunk tech plays an integral part of the story, there's a mystery to uncover, societal issues, aging superheros, and a villain who truly believes that he's doing the right thing—even if it means murder and the breakdown of their way of life.
Mayer does a good job explaining the story's machines and inventions, and he includes some fascinating concepts. Even though these descriptions can slow the pace, it helps develop the atmosphere, and since the tech is important to the story, it's worth the time to pay attention. We only get a taste of his portrayal of Industrial Revolution-era New York, its high society as well as the common man. Despite this brief glimpse, I still got a good feel for the time and place, and I suspect there will be more as the series continues, as there simply wasn't time to go into depth here.
Mayer creates the story's superhero crossovers with enough stereotypes to make them familiar, but without being lazy—they still feel like real people. I enjoyed both the main characters, Tom and Sarah. Tom is more than a machine, as he attempts to carry out his maker's plans. Readers will learn a lot about Darby and the kind of man he was from the machines he made. Sarah is barely into womanhood and discovering the kind of woman she is and wants to be. Her relationship with her father feels a little forced, but it isn't hard to believe that Alexander Stanton behaves as a result of his era and class.
Unlike the wealth of steampunk coming out today, there's no magic or vampires or werewolves in THE FALLING MACHINE. I can't say I'm too sad about it. The result is that the focus is on the tech itself and its importance to the story, and not simply tech for its own sake with the supernatural stealing the show.
While the pace moves forward consistently, revelations come slowly, and the story isn't much further along by the time we reach the end of the book. Most of the novel is told from Tom and Sarah's PoV (with minor references from Alexander Stanton and the Sleuth Paragon Peter Wickham), so the storyline involves following clues and trying to come to a conclusion. Another issue with the pacing involves the villain not even appearing until the end of the novel. While THE FALLING MACHINE storyline itself is mostly self-contained, the ending leaves the conclusion too open, and readers will have to wait until the second book, HEARTS OF SMOKE AND STEAM, to hopefully find some answers to their inevitable questions.
Recommended Age: 14+ Language: A handful of moderate uses Violence: Tom and Sarah's sleuthing does lead to danger; there's blood, but otherwise it's not gory Sex: Vague references; one of the Paragons is referred to as a sodomite a few times
Picked up this book basically at random while at work. I've always been interested in the steampunk motif but haven't really read many novels that I think qualify, and none that really struck me like Gibson and Sterling's The Difference Engine did many years ago.
This book is clearly the first in a series and if one expects any conflicts to be really resolved or explicated, one will certainly be disappointed. I found the setup to be reasonably interesting and the book laid the groundwork for the coming "eschaton" in a way that I imagine would lure many readers. However, I believe the author, while possessing considerable skill in particular with the delivery of action sequences, will hone his writing craft to a greater sharpness after a few more books. Certain scenes here seem to drag on, and on, and I have to say that after over two-hundred pages very little seems to happen to truly advance the plot. Characters are killed off in a decisive manner, but it feels as though their deaths are only of real significance to the characters in the story as we haven't really gotten to know any of them or to feel any sense of resonance when they perish. The tone of the book is on the one hand serious and grave, yet every time the Paragons become the focus of the story the whole thing seems to descend a bit to the level of old comic book cliché. Is there really room in such a world for striding superheroes? I'm not certain, but I can tell you that I wasn't wholly convinced, and not only agreed with the assessment of some of the characters that the Paragons were a bunch of washed up, posturing old men, but thought that the author should just embrace this sentiment wholeheartedly himself as I didn't care for any of them or their stories. It was a little annoying to me that the traitor was revealed fairly early on and yet by the end of the book none of the living characters seem to have put the pieces together themselves, not even Tom the Automaton, who was pretty much given incontrovertible and direct evidence.
Despite my criticisms though, I found myself impressed particularly by the action scenes in the book, which were fast-paced and clearly described. I don't mean this in a derogatory way, but it doesn't really surprise me that the author is a video game designer, as the strengths of his writing seem most connected with the strengths of his occupation. I'd like to see more of the same care of craft going into story, dialogue and general narrative tension. Also, a better editing job next time; the book is riddled with typographical errors, which is a huge turn-off for me.
Also, nice reference to the Illuminatus! snuck into the last twenty pages or so!
I'll be honest. I didn't research this book before I bought it. I knew nothing of the author, or the plot, or any other significant details. I picked it up on a whim on my last visit to the bookstore. And somehow, it turned out to be one of the better novels I've read this year.
The story goes like this (spoiler free!): Sarah Stanton, daughter of one of the leaders of the Paragons, a group of heroes that protect New York City, witnesses the murder of one of the founders of the same group, and becomes embroiled in a large scale plot that deals with themes of betrayal, aging, and the advent of technology, and the dangers and wonders that come with it. Also, last but not least, it muses on what really makes a hero, beyond a mask and fancy leather costume. The story manages to be easy to follow and fun, while addressing topics that can get pretty heavy.
This is one of the best concepts for a steampunk novel I've ever seen. I've always wanted to like this genre more than the novels I've read in it have allowed me to. But too many of them get caught up in reveling in their own creativity, wanting to put their ideas for cool, weird technology in the forefront and putting character development and story into the proverbial caboose.
But this novel never falls into that trap. It's tight, consistent, and uses the setting and genre as frosting on the cake. The focus is always on the story, which never really has a slow point that made me want to stop reading. That's when you know you have a good novel on your hands.
Seriously. If you've wanted to like Steampunk, enjoy the idea of superheroes in the 1880s, or just love a novel with vivid characters and a beautiful, creative world, get this book.
You'll be glad you did. Now to wait until November to read the second one...
The Paragons are a team of pulp heroes in the late 19th century. They are steampunk superheroes with powerful gadgets that make them more powerful than mere mortals.
They aren’t the stars of Society of Steam Book One: The Falling Machine by Andrew Mayer.
Instead the book focuses around two players in their circle. Sarah Stanton is the daughter of the Industrialist and confidant of the Professor (a.k.a. Sir Dennis Darby). Her costar is the Automaton, Tom for short, a powerful, robotic man and Darby’s greatest creation.
When Darby dies, it quickly falls to them to solve the crime.
The Falling Machine is filled with characters torn right out of a fevered pulp dream. The villains and heroes all carry crazy gadget weapons, whether it’s the Industrialist’s automatic pistols or the murderous Bomb Lance’s spear launchers.
The cast quickly allows Mayer to design a world of pulp superheroes while never breaking away from a rather traditional, Victorian-era New York. It makes the setting truly unique while leaving it grounded in reality.
Ultimately, the story comes down to Automaton and Sarah’s quest to find their place as heroes in the aftermath of their mentor’s death. While the book completes their quest, it leaves many more answers left open. Mayer embraces the series’ aesthetic far too tightly and leaves far too much undone by book’s end. This leaves The Falling Machine feeling like only the first third of a much larger novel instead of a standalone novel.
That aside, Mayer’s prose moves along at a fever pitch, always driving the story forward and keeping the reader hooked in. I found myself covering hundreds of pages without ever wandering from the compelling narrative.
Anyone that loves pulp concepts in a Victorian era setting should take a look at The Society of Steam series. The Falling Machine comes Highly Recommended.
I really, really liked this book. I have to be honest and admit that I judged this book by it's cover, which is actually not that bad, but I read the hand-drawn illustration as amateurish and wasn't in a big hurry to read it. But I'm on something of a mission to read ALL steampunk books, so I went ahead. And I was so pleasantly surprised. At first I was enjoying this fun and exciting book about Victorian era superheroes called The Paragons, and the daughter of one of them who wanted to be involved but was locked out due to her sex. But as the book went on, and I progressed through multiple mysteries and mysterious unknown characters and action sequences, I started to get unreasonably attached to the heroine Sarah, and the Automaton, Tom. And towards the end I got quite emotional and angry about their situation. So the book ended with some resolution and some cliff-hangereryness. (It's 1AM, thinking is hard.) I am ashamed to say I had ordered the sequel from Amazon within 10 minutes of having finished the book. (Ashamed because I shouldn't be spending the money.)
But this is really an exemplar steampunk novel. The use of technology and gadgets and steam power is among the best I've read. But the characters are also particularly good. They are very clearly VICTORIAN characters, regardless of the fact that they dress in leather costumes and fight clockwork powered super-villains. Sarah especially walks that line between a rebellious Victorian woman and a totally out-of-character-for-her-time Mary Sue. And I always appreciate when I believe the characters are of the period.
I thought this book was about Sarah Stanton and the automaton per the synopsis. It ends up that each chapter switched to a different random characters pov and very little was dedicated to Sarah and the automaton. This resulted in little interest of any character and boring plot, with boring descriptions of things such as a gavel. This book may interest the age range of 13-15 year olds
DAMMIT Goodreads, why is when I misclick somewhere outside my review pane it COMPLETELY LOSES MY REVIEW IN PROGRESS????
Annoyed now.
Spoilers follow. Shorter version since I lost the first.
Good: Gay couple! Bad: Dead gay couple.
Good: Downtrodden people in 1880s New York really don't like being trodden upon! Bad: Downtrodden people in 1880s New York...are in league with supervillains?
Good: Heroine is brave and clever and takes up arms to protect her friend (not child or lover)! Bad: WAIT, WHY DID SHE PUT ON THE CORSET *OVER* HER SHIRT? Like, I get it, it's funny, Superman wears his undies on the outside, steampunkers have adopted corset-over-shirt look, but really, in that time period? For a woman? Aieeee.
And the VERY, VERY, jarred-me-right-out bad: The primary villain is revealed to have facial features that "reveal his Asian heritage" or some such. The only Asian character in the entire thing and he's the antagonist. That's just...ugh. Like, I get it, there's a comic-book kind of superhero thing going on, but come one. He better at least get fleshed out more in the next couple books or I'm just gonna get more annoyed.
Steampunk superheroes. Unfortunately, this book wasn't quite as awesome as I had hoped it would be. It was a good story but I had two main issues with how the story was told - first, the language style of the narrative was confusing at times, and almost made me give up on the book very early on. The second was the rather heavy-handed characterization of certain characters to be of the "there there, dear, don't worry your pretty little head" variety of males to Sarah.
An interesting premise, though the execution does need a bit of work.
4 stars= recommended! The biggest delight of this book for me was the surprising twists in characterization. This book was not a simplistic combination of steampunk scenery and super hero tropes-- instead we have an examination of flawed humans behind the superhero masks embedded in a conflict that shows us the roots of our current historical era with both its good and bad sides.
At the same time it's a good old fashioned adventure story :-)
I don't know what's going to happen next, and that's what makes it worth seeking out the remaining books in the series.
Engaging characters, a fun steam punk world, not afraid to shake things up and some smart writing around the nature of science and innovation.
The only thing that has let both this and the second book down is cliff hanger endings. Mayer writes well enough that he shouldn't have to rely on suspense to get people to buy the next book.
Looking forward to the third in the series (though not the wait until it comes out).
This book surprised me. At the beginning it was - American Steampunk superheroes. Ho hum. Victorian era sensibilities, steam power, mah, nothing special ... but it's actually quite involving. For a cheap find in a box in a second hand store, I actually want to know what happens next. It's pleasantly untwee, and there's a satisfactory bodycount.
In the last year I’ve realized that despite all resistance on my behalf I have become a fan of steampunk. Getting netted into sub-genres--especially those that can make me uncomfortable with kitsch or cliché--is one of my least favorite aspects of writing reviews. So it goes without saying that I’m always on the prowl for good new books by authors I haven’t heard of before, hoping to find something fresh on the horizon. I try to read widely from an array of sources and angles, but darn if I don’t keep coming back to steampunk. Writers like Felix Gilman, the VanderMeers, and Tobias Buckell have convinced me that, appearances aside, this is one of the most provocative and progressive genres yet conceived by man. I’m glad to say that I can put Andrew Mayer and his debut novel, The Falling Machine, on my list of “instant recommendations” to steampunk and superhero fans alike. The first in a trilogy called The Society of Steam, The Falling Machine reads like the kind of novel of adventure and intrigue that I imagine our own golden age superheroes would have grown up reading. With classic appeal and a sort of antique charm, Mayer has constructed a bridge between our history and our childhood dreams of suddenly finding ourselves faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound--and he reminds us of how important it is to share that dream with those society tells simply cannot, and can never be, super.
The argument over who can and can’t be super is just one form of the book’s dominant theme: the question of legitimate personhood, and on what grounds that judgment is made. The fact that the book eschews a typical power fantasy from the get-go lends it a concrete sense of seriousness: while founded in the throwaway power fantasies of modern mythmaking, there is serious and somber consideration at play here. Taking an immediate step towards the progressive, Mayer opens the book from the view of Sarah Stanton who becomes our most frequent viewpoint. A bundle of social stigmas and nervous defiance, Sarah wants to be like her stepbrother Nathaniel, and her hero, Professor Darby: both of whom serve as Paragons. (The Paragons are Mayer’s super-powered nineteenth century analogue to the Avengers.) She is always at odds with her male “masters,” be it Nathaniel, imposing his views of how she ought to be more docile and feminine, or her father, over how at the ripe old age of nineteen, Sarah still hasn’t found a suitable husband to take care of her. Mayer’s smart use of Sarah begins with some flamboyant talk of women’s suffrage, but quickly unfolds to become a more nuanced and layered version of a woman in a man’s world who can’t participate simply because she is wearing skirts.
Despite being self-reliant and independent, Sarah wants desperately to measure up to the Paragons’ expectations, and her drive to stand equal is what moves the plot forward as she investigates the death of Professor Darby, convinced as she is that the omniscient Paragons have overlooked some crucial detail. Her ever-persistent digging into the murder sets the wheels turning for Mayer’s other pariah characters, which further examines the question of personhood on different grounds.
For example, for all of his super-powered engineering, Professor Darby’s greatest accomplishment is his construction of “The Automaton,” which is exactly what it sounds like. He designed and built a clockwork man: a steam-powered robot with, so far as I can tell, the ability to self-reflect, self-adjust, and think. Automotons are as common to Steampunk as Robots are to Asmiov, but the array and diversity with which they can be represented and rendered is equally vast. This one, called simply Tom, the Automaton is a breathtaking achievement in a world that hasn’t yet normalized electric lamps, and his unyielding gentle-giant presence was a delight to read. With a bevy of quirks, Tom’s permanent residence in the uncanny valley pits him at odds with his fellow Paragons, who don’t trust and undervalue his unswerving service to the team. To them, he is a tool and an implement that only Darby could control, and after Darby’s death he is quickly pushed to the margin. Their reasoning is dubious at best, and as we dive into Tom’s character through his few focal sections and his many interactions with Sarah, I think that every reader will emerge with a different opinion of him as a person or tool. Whereas Sarah represents the position of woman to culture--and indeed whether or not a woman ought to be counted as a “whole” person (the answer is yes!), Tom represents machine intelligence: can an artificial non-human being be considered a fully-fledged person?
The third study of personhood is one that most readers will likely find more relevant today than the other two. While I don’t mean to take for granted that the battle for women’s rights has come to a close, I mean more that homosexuals and “abnormal sexuality” tend to make the news, for better or worse, than women’s rights activists these days. At a point when we’re only just beginning to see the general but unsteady proliferation of gay marriage rights, and when very, very few mainstream super-characters are openly gay (DC’s Green Lantern being perhaps the most recent outing), Mayer’s delicate treatment of the Sleuth as a possible homosexual, and his standing with the team once his alleged lover, Darby, has died, made him all the more gripping. Taking the best parts of Sherlock Holmes with the acrobatic bravado and gadgetry of Batman, the Sleuth might well be my favorite Paragon on the team. Possibly one of my favorite superheroes of all time. Despite being the most helpful member of the heroes--the one who actually solves the mysteries--the other men are made uncomfortable by the “velvet uncle” and his apparent romantic attention to Professor Darby, which may or may not have been reciprocal. His standing with the team, like the Automaton’s, is immediately marginalized once Darby’s awe-inspiring presence is removed.
These examinations of personhood take what could have been a rote novel about aging superheroes who use “fortified steam” (i.e., a very clever cousin to nuclear fission) to power their super-gear, and turn it into a worthy exercise in “what ifs” and “wherefores” about human nature, relationships, and social schemas. It uses the superhero veneer, something that most Americans are growing quite familiar with, and applies to a post-Civil War squad of costumed whack jobs some of the most difficult questions about humanity and ethics I’ve ever seen applied. It is a brave novel, full of brave characters, and some not so brave ones, that gripped me and didn’t let go.
I should probably stop to introduce the rest of the team. At the outset, the Paragons consist of Professor Darby (the founder) and the Industrialist (a steampunk Captain America), Iron-Clad (an Iron Man analogue), the Submersible (a second, aquatic-based Iron Man analogue, I think), the Automaton, the Sleuth (the Batman), and Turbine (superhero who can fly). It’s a small team that has had personalities come and go, much like the avengers, and I’m a bit sad to say that the team as a whole doesn’t see much action. The focus of the novel--investigating Darby’s death--precludes much true action, though when things do get hairy, Mayer proves a very capable action scripter. Instead of seeing the Paragons march, fly, and float their way into battle we meet them as they truly are: aging men hiding behind their masks, drowning in their glory days.
Sarah’s father, for example, Alexander Stanton, a.k.a. the Industrialist, is a bitter, middle-aged brute of a man. For all his service to New York, it is difficult to sympathize with him. To be fair, he is supposed to represent one of two sides of the “typical” male stances towards marginalized persons--that they should be kept there because they are minorities and therefore Lesser--and so is designed to earn our ire. But I think it was particularly smart to employ him as a proto-Cap to lead the team and represent our best facets, too. Like Cap, underneath the mask Stanton is full of doubt and anger and barely-controlled urges. The other side of aggressive male dominance is Sarah’s step-brother, who deeply desires a semi-incestuous relationship with his step-sister (I believe he was adopted) that makes her uneasy and aloof. His frustration with her tomboy behavior, opposite his expectations for ladylike manners, reveals that he is the other pinnacle of male chauvinism: that if the minorities behave “the way they’re supposed to,” then they wouldn’t be minorities. Both men are certainly pigs, but they do grow as characters and I’m curious to see where Mayer takes them as the series unfolds.
As a unit, the Paragons were once legendary. By the book’s opening it seems as though they’ve won what Commisioner Gordon called “The War of Escalation.” After decades of battling it out on the streets, it seems as though New York has become so safe a place that they’re getting bored and fat as quickly as they’re getting old. Darby’s death blows open a whole conspiracy, but it’s been so long since the Paragons have done any real crime fighting that most of them don’t even realize what has happened. What we have instead are a bunch of Avengers who aren’t busy avenging, but are instead licking their wounds, nursing their booze, and trying to stay relevant in a city that doesn’t really need them. The boredom that ensues is handled expertly, and Mayer is smart to give them the time he does; any more would have dragged, and any less would have failed to convey the fact that the Paragons are becoming decrepit old bureaucrats.
One of the most interesting effects of bouncing between narrators is that Mayer establishes very clearly the attitude of privileged presumption. We see how Alexander and Nathaniel expect the others to behave, while at the same time seeing how Sarah, Tom, and the Sleuth actually do behave. Mayer furthers the simultaneity of expectation and actuality by staggering cliff-hanger moments with stepping back to tell how something came to be: for example, a man gets held up in a room by a thief, and someone comes around the corner with a stack of papers on fire. He focuses first on the robbery, finds a climax, and then paused to merge it with the appearance of the fire-toting clerk to explain how he or she got there in the first place. The complex leveling of threads reminded me a lot of how serial comics can read, blending sub-plots and driving narratives to create a dense, tangled web that fans can revisit again and again to find new angles. It’s an excellent choice that allows him to explore all three of our marginalized persons through their development, allotting ample time to their super-exploits and the not-so-super ones, and to establish some critical thought patterns about the super heroes we all know and love.
I’m not sure if, after having read The Falling Machine, I’ll ever read another comic book as I did before. His deft attention to personage and citizenship, as well as the purpose and meaning of “super hero” is a step in the right direction that adds nuance and subtlety to super-personalities and their daily lives that I think has rarely been done before. With bold ideas, seamless language, and a great sense of fun and adventure, Mayer has left enough doors open for books two and three that they’re on my “MUST READ VERY SOON” list. I just can’t recommend them highly enough to fans of steampunk, superheroes, and everything in between.
In an alternate 1880, steam-powered super heroes, the Paragons, use their technology to fight crime and equally steam-powered villains. Sarah Stanton, a young woman, is denied becoming a hero but is the only one who can save the Paragons from destruction.
The Falling Machine delivers its superhero premise swiftly and handles it mostly well. The heroes have larger-than-life personas and unique outfits that tie into their steam-powered abilities. This could have been a comic book series of the 80s or 90s, even down to a few impossibly good-looking characters. The story is about the decline of the Paragons, and the villains who turn to new and frightening tactics to destroy their enemies. It primarily follows Sarah, a 19-year-old who wishes to become a hero. Her father, perhaps the most famous of the Paragons, is an old-fashioned man trying to decide what’s best for his daughter. There’s a good deal of early feminism in Sarah’s character arc, which is fine, but her characterization mostly boils down to, “she’s not like other girls.”
Most of the other characters, including the soulless Automaton who is naïve and lovable, fit into familiar tropes. We even get a steampunk Obi-Wan. There aren’t really any surprises in the sizable cast of characters. The story itself also follows familiar threads, but at least accents it with elements unique to the setting. The real shining element of the story is the setting and concept. Steampunk super heroes in an alternate 1880. But is that enough glue to hold the book together?
Perhaps if the glue was reinforced with good writing. It isn’t. I had first read the book years ago when it released and enjoyed it. But I’ve since broadened my horizon with more reading, more writing, and when I tried to return, I was disappointed. The prose has problems. The pacing has severe problems. Scenes, especially early on when we’re being introduced to lots of characters, will stop dead to not only give us overly detailed descriptions but also provide plenty of backstory so when the scene mercifully gets moving again, we know everything about this person. It’s as if you took the adage, “Show, don’t tell,” and reversed it. And the story on a larger scale also has pacing issues. We start with a bang but soon reduce to a crawl before we’ve gotten very far and spend more time than is necessary on scenes that only seem to pad the book with more backstory and explanations.
Good writing can hold up generic, trope characters, it’s happened before; and likewise, great characters can hold up weak prose or plot. But a book falls apart if the writing, characters, and story are all underwhelming. There isn’t anything I’d say is awful about the book, but other than the setting and concept, nothing stands out either.
I once enjoyed the book and planned to read the series. It never happened and may never happen. This wasn’t sold as YA back in the day, I’m not sure if YA had shelf space in bookstores at the time, but to me, it reads like a YA book. Younger readers won’t be as tired of the tropes and will be more forgiving for the pacing issues and the writing. But this one is no longer for me.
The Falling Machine is the first steampunk book I read, but I have been in love with the aesthetics for years, so I expected an incredible experience when I started this novel. The Falling Machine may be described as steampunk Marvel Superheroes. Setting absolutely did not disappoint me. It is well-developed and well-executed; I could easily imagine all the fantastic machines and meticulously detailed costumes. The book features multiple PoVs but the main character is Sarah, the daughter of steampunk Tony Stark, who struggles to find the murderer of her beloved tutor while various obstacles (sexism, her father's wish to protect her, her physical abilities) stand in her way. Sarah is a very compelling character; I loved that her strengths were balanced with her weaknesses. She's not some Katniss, and this is cool. Unfortunately, the plot and the quality of writing doesn't do the cool setting and the relatable heroine justice. I was constantly pulled out by grammar mistakes and typos; I even checked that the book was not self-published, which it was not. As for the plot, it develops so slowly and the stakes are often so vague I felt bored, especially when we followed other characters. It did not help that one of the PoV's was the Automaton. The Fallen Machine is the first book of a duology, but I'm not going to read the second part. I would recommend this book to folks who are interested in steampunk and don't mind slow pacing.