Penny For The Queen - A Steampunk Fantasy Romance Novella (Shimmy And Steam Series Book 4)

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He fell to his hands and knees, his heart stopped beating, he stared silently in disbelief and watched in horror as his beautiful angel, his one true love, the perfectly wonderful silent companion, burned brightly, her entire body engulfed in flame. Waking abruptly, Henry tried with all his might to leap forward across the void and save her, but found his body once again carved in wood, and he was left with nothing more than the last few precious seconds with his waxen love.

And as the fire surrounded them both, her delicate features began to warp and drip, her hair falling in clumps, arms silently drooping before collapsing against herself. Henry smelled the burning pine needles and felt the hot embrace of the fire consuming his hands and feet. Of all of my treasured items, I have, with a little difficulty, narrowed it down to three.

They all keep alive the aura of a magic time, and also capture my peculiar history. It was, and still is, the high end of s portable music and I would much rather watch a stack of records play through than switch on the television. As a child I remember playing with it — my main fascination being that the large tuning dial named many of the exotic locations around the world including Scotland that the BBC World Service broadcast to and from.

That, and the fact that the dial is exquisitely balanced and can be used to tune very accurately. My MB60 is a five valve radio and weighs over 3kg. It was the first radio to use an Ogle cabinet designed by David Ogle. The company was very successful during the s in household and industrial product design. It is still in working order, although I have a modern replica that I use to take out and about. Like my parents, they make a grand couple.

They were all originally produced in olive green with the exception of those used by the GPO which were bright red. I enjoy it so much because of its hugely understated beauty, simple mechanics and reliability. If only people could be more so. Take it greasy,. By Claire Gormly Welcome to the first instalment of a brand new column, where editor Claire Gormly delves into the history of New Zealand pubs and samples the local hospitality.

Pub accommodation used to be the only option if you were in search of a cheap bed in provincial New Zealand. Glory Days aims to highlight these gems and remind people that the opportunity to stay at a cheap, character-loaded New Zealand icon is right under their noses. Eketahuna may sound like a song from an old Disney movie, but it is in fact a sleepy little farming town 20km north of Masterton. The Commercial is a squat, unassuming s pub, run by the lovely and industrious husband and wife team, Lynn and Colin, who have run the pub for 16 years.

Colin says that pubs are a dying breed, and this one survives mostly due to the TAB thanks to the fact that Racing NZ now has a race every day. Tonight is pool night, a friendly competition between the Commercial and the pub down the road that was shut down because of a painted-over sprinkler system. The accommodation wing is a delightful trip to the s, the signs on the bathroom are original and the Axminster carpet has a worn strip right down the middle of the corridor.

Lynn remembers a movie being made here, in Room Three. It was a romantic movie that focused a lot on the bed. Shooting got in the way of her laundry duties and coughing fits were met with annoyance. Excitement ensued when she revealed that a horse was buried under the bar. However, on questioning, a patron revealed that it was simply a hoof print embedded in the concrete foundations. A fitting beginning to a thriving TAB, but not as good a story as a whole horse resting in peace under the floorboards. I was made to feel thoroughly at home, a roaring fire was made for me, and an electric blanket readied.

It was a little spooky as I was the only guest, and the corridor is long and dark. I had a few worried thoughts about the patrons of the bar knowing I was here alone and coming to find me — maybe to destroy my photographic evidence, maybe worse — but I rallied and had a fantastic sleep. In previous issues of Glory Days, Hopped Up has featured four-wheeled machines capable of taking a few people for a spin. David has ridden penny farthings for more than 20 years, founded the New Zealand National Championships, toured the length of New Zealand on his hand-built penny and even cycled one in the Parliament buildings!

Rose Jackson spent an afternoon wheeling around with David in Oamaru, to understand the nuts and bolts of an ordinary bicycle. When did you first discover penny farthings? Oamaru has been working on the restoration of its original town centre, now known as the Victorian Precinct, since We discovered there was a penny farthing club in the town in , and I. How fast can they go? How fast have you ever travelled on one? Fast — our top New Zealand riders have recorded speeds of over 35km an hour.

Are modern penny farthings still made to original specs or have you modified them with the help of modern-day innovations? A new club, the Oamaru Ordinary Cycle Club, was formed a few years later. Why do they appeal to you? Do you build your own? That expedition was over 2,km and I travelled as a modern day swagger— with only the gear I could carry and no back-up vehicle. The bike alone weighed 57kg! We remain true to the original specifications, using the latest welding equipment and machinery. Ten machines of varying sizes are under construction now at the Oamaru Cycle Works workshop, under the direction of Oamaru master bike builder Graeme Simpson.

Each bike is pre-sold and the owners are building their own. What do you say to those who believe penny farthings belong in the past? Knowing and understanding our past and conserving our historic and cultural heritage is an important part of establishing a strong sense of community and local and national identity. Why should someone have a go at riding one? Are there any technical difficulties to overcome when assembling a penny farthing? This determines the size of the front wheel.

The rider must also be able to comfortably sit on the seat and peddle. Ensuring the spoke size is correct, along with the backbone connecting the small wheel to the front forks, is important and intricate work. The front forks require careful measurements, and intricate welding. During the s, blacksmiths did a lot of this work in their forges. Words and photography by Rose Jackson In one of those difficult pick-a-path moments in life, if you chose to veer right at the fork in the road at Oamaru down State Highway One, you would completely bypass one of the most outstanding examples of living history in New Zealand, and possibly the world.

Call into the visitor centre and ask for Ralph. Ralph Sherwood is a veritable walking encyclopaedia of local knowledge and he can fill you in on why the main street is so wide, who The Larrakins were, and where to find the best ghost-sighting spot in town! If you want a close encounter with apparitions, book a room at the Criterion!

Set aside an hour in the afternoon, when the perfect light is filtering through the shop windows, to chew the fat with Michael while you watch him work on the most stunning traditional bookbindings you will ever see. Rob is a very obliging chap, so if you would like to have a look at the beautiful machines up close, just ask. Wallto-wall creativity and fantasy rolled up in an atmospheric highceilinged Victorian warehouse. It must be seen to be believed. With a plethora of wheeled machines to choose from, you will be cruising like a pro in five minutes flat.

They are well worth the effort, I promise! Stuffed full to the rafters with everything a vintage lover loves, you could quite easily spend an afternoon here and only get through a third of the shop. At the time of writing, the owners were in France enjoying a sourcing trip for the store, so if you are looking for a tres bon piece of vintage in rural Canterbury, Vintage Chic has the merchandise for you!

For more information, contact sean littledeath. Leimomi Oakes: I learned to sew when I was very young, and by high school was making most of my own clothes. I was already working for a theatre costume shop to pay my way through university, and after graduating I went to work for museums. Glory Days spent a morning with Leimomi over tea and cake, to view her impressive collection and unearth the tales behind her wardrobe. LO: Not really. Mostly I focus on collecting the things that I find unexpectedly, or am given.

My collection is more the story of my life than a planned theme. GD: Are there specific items or eras that you concentrate on collecting? LO: My s rayon Hawaiian shirt. LO: Probably my working collection of antique and vintage buttons, lace, thread, ribbons, thimbles, needles and other sewing notions. Some are just to enjoy visually, but many I use.

I like that they are the tools of my trade both as a seamstress, and a historian. GD: One piece you would save in a fire? I inherited my love of collecting and sewing, along with her hats and fabric collection, from my paternal grandmother. After I was given her hats, I picked one to wear to go visit Grandpa. That hat turned out to be one he had bought her when they were courting in Joliet, Illinois. She admired it in the window of a posh department store on their first date, but said someone would be foolish to spend that much on a hat.

The next time he came to visit he was carrying a hatbox, and in it was that hat. It was the last time I saw Grandpa before he passed. LO: In acid-free boxes, padded with acid-free tissue to prevent creasing and stress on the seams, and wrapped in more tissue. More robust pieces can go on hangers padded out until they are the width of human shoulders, with extra ties inside the garment to help support their weight, and then can be wrapped in Tyvek or acid-free muslin. GD: Any tips for readers on how to organise their wardrobes?

LO: I organise my items by what items are likely to be worn and used together. LO: As investments in knowledge; clothing and textiles are integral to history. They are the thing everyone wears closest to themselves, every day. They tell the human story on a very intimate, personal level. GD: Favourite accessory? LO: My collection of marcasite and pearl jewellery. Throughout recorded history, regardless of skin colour or geographical location, both women and men have literally painted their faces.

From Ancient Greece and Egypt up to Victorian England there were two camps: the women and men who believed painting their faces enhanced their beauty, and those who sought to ban cosmetics outright. This quote comes from the Middle Ages:. White lead was dissolved in distilled water, sometimes mixed with animal products, mixed to a fine wash and painted onto the face.

Alternatively, it was concentrated, dried and used as a powder. Ironically, the copious layers of paint and powder that people applied to make themselves look It prematurely aged the skin, imbuing it with a blue tinge. It also caused gum disease, making teeth fall out and causing metallic breath. In the mid s, women whitened their faces, layer upon layer, so they would not have to remove it every day, and to fill in lines and wrinkles.

It was during this time that ultra-fashionable men were at least as made up as the ladies. This cosmetic extravagance did not last, and the turn of the nineteenth century saw a steep decline in the social acceptability of cosmetics. Women turned to subtlety and deception. Countless books were written on how to achieve natural beauty, the importance of exercise and the effect of inner beauty, as opposed to artificiality. Women disregarded this advice in their droves.

As rouge and enamel were now unacceptable, and obvious in their application, women turned. Pearl powders made by dissolving seed peals or mother of pearl in acid became popular. A product called Bismuth powder was a cheaper alternative. Bismuth had an unfortunate tendency to turn the face black when the wearer came into contact with sulphur fumes, a common occurrence due to the use of gas lighting. This of course caused immense distress to women who were trying to hide the fact that they used cosmetics! By the deception was beginning to wear off, and cosmetics were big business for some.

They were creeping into shops, and the very first beauty parlours appeared. Enamelling was simply painting the face, almost always with lead, due to the striking effects it could produce. The face would first be prepared with an alkaline wash. Wrinkles were filled in with paste, and white lead was painted on, followed by red. Finally veins were painted on. Such a heavy base required the wearer to be expressionless, lest the makeup crack. Madame Rachel was also doing a roaring trade in exotic-sounding cosmetic concoctions, including Magnetic Rock Dew Water from the Sahara.

She was eventually jailed for fraud, her products discredited as merely tap water. But her influence has endured to the current day with her name given to a certain shade of face powder. Around this time, there was a spike in women presenting with paralysis. They were initially diagnosed with hysteria, but under questioning,. In , a huge leap was made in the safety of powder when it was discovered that zinc oxide did not discolour and would not harm the skin. This led to a boom in sales, and sounded the death knell for poisonous leadbased products. By the late s, commercial cosmetics enterprise was the way of the future.

Cosmetics were fast becoming an enormous industry and there was intense competition between face powder manufacturers. In , the reign of face powder came to an end. This was the year Max Factor invented a new kind of paint — the first water-soluble cake foundation, called Pan Cake. Originally invented to combat the powerful new lights used on Hollywood sets, it was so popular with actresses that Factor was quick to market his product to the masses.

Foundation overtook powder in popularity until recently, when consumers became prey to the mass-marketing brilliance of Thin Lizzy, and its predecessor Natural Glow. We have moved through the ages with powder and paint; there has never been a point where we have not used them, and there may never be a point when they are obsolete.

They have been our greatest asset, our biggest secret, and our deadliest poison. If you feel you need foundation, make sure you finish it off with a loose powder to decrease the shine. Aim for as close a match to your skin colour as possible. An alternative version has the heroine demanding she be laced tighter and tighter until her waist fits an almost-impossibly small measure. The former is used to demonstrate that the heroine is independent and ahead of her time, while the latter paints a picture of a vain, frivolous woman.

However, neither scene is accurate in a historical sense. Both focus on tight-lacing, and portray the corset as a pseudo-torture device imposed on women by an oppressive society. In reality, millions of women over almost four centuries lived and worked in corsets on a daily basis, and even chose the corset over the recommendations of the powers-that-be. The modern corset dates back to the sixteenth century. Fashionable garments were becoming increasingly fitted, and began to incorporate boning — usually baleen whalebone or cane — to maintain a smooth line over the body.

Gradually the boned garment became a separate item of its own, that could be worn with multiple garments. By the midseventeenth century, boned undergarments were common among the upper classes, though still mainly for informal wear. The most formal garment of all, the robe de coer, worn until the end of the eighteenth century, had built-in boning and visible back lacing.

This meant the wearer was jerked from side to side as her stays were laced, so women held on to a support when lacing, creating the classic image of a corsetee clutching her bedpost. Early-nineteenth century fashion was inspired by ancient Greece and Rome, with an emphasis on the bust rather than the waist.

No one wears more than one! Every body has left off even corsets! Technological innovation in the nineteenth century made corsets easier to put on, and to lace tight. Metal eyelets appeared in the s, and by the s almost every corset included a metal slot and stud busk the rigid part at the front , which, along with criss-cross lacing, allowed women to put on and tighten their own corsets.

Suddenly, even a factory worker who lived alone could put on a corset, and their use became ubiquitous across all classes. In New Zealand, corsets were almost universally worn, to the extent that some doctors claimed the harm they caused pregnant women was responsible for the decline in the Maori birthrate. The corsets imported into New Zealand usually had cheaper metal boning which rusted rather than expensive baleen boning. A true corset is quite different from a lingerie garment that has stretch; it is designed to fit snugly and should feel comfortable and supportive.

People often think the corset will be uncomfortable and restrictive, and they are often surprised at how good a well-fitting corset feels. A corset is made with several layers of fabric, steel boning, a front steel closure called a busk and back lacing. All these features allow for proper fitting. There are two types of corset: the full corset which covers the bust and hips, and the underbust corset. It's important to consider your body shape. The full corset assumes your waist is significantly smaller than your bust and hips. The underbust corset works on every shape as it only deals with the waist.

Late-nineteenth century fashion placed the most emphasis on a small waist, but actual waist reduction was minimal. Larger sizes were available by special order, but few makers offered smaller sizes. The corset disappeared entirely in the s. The waist is really the most important measurement when selecting a corset, but the measurement people frequently overlook is their height. Often customers tell me they own corsets that do not allow them to sit down.

While it is tempting to get a corset as long as possible to cover the hips, the boning will be a major issue on a shorter person. A well-fitting corset should create a flow down through the waist and over the hips without any bulges, and should allow the wearer to sit comfortably without leaning back or being poked by bones. As an undergarment, the corset presents a challenge for today's fashions. Although it will give you a nice line, one must consider that the corset has 'depth'. It has layers of fabric, boning, a closure and lacing, all of which will be visible under a thin dress.

If the outer clothing is layered or the fabric is thick or ruched, there is usually no problem. But so often customers expect the corset to be invisible. For invisibility, the only real option is 'Spanx'-style underwear made of flesh-coloured elastic fabric, but that will never give the curves and is often less comfortable than a good corset.

At the Corseterie we don't encourage extreme waist training, but for those customers wanting to trim their waist we have waist-training options. But please don't expect to buy one tiny corset and train your waist down in it! Each corset should always fit well, and waist training must be done incrementally. It will probably take two or three corsets to bring the waist down significantly.

It's important to take on this project slowly and put the body through the least amount of stress. At any age, a well-fittingg corset will improve posture re and shape, and give the wearer er confidence without discomfort. The Town Hall is at the heart of Eltham and has been the focus of entertainment and events in the area since Two members of the Friends of the Town Hall, Karen Christian and Alex Ballantyne, met me at the front entrance and proudly flung open the doors. Fifteen minutes later I was clambering up a ladder headed 40 feet above the stage.

Standing on the fly floor felt like being on the deck of a ship; thick ropes sat in looped piles, and large backdrops, suspended from the grid, looked like the sails of a galleon. This got me thinking about sailors. No, not like that. Ships and sailing have a lot more in common with theatres than you might think, even in landlocked Eltham. This is more than a romantic, nautical analogy: theatrical rigging has its origins in sailing rigging. From Elizabethan times, ex-sailors were employed to operate the ropes of early fly systems,. Whistling was forbidden on stage to prevent it from being interpreted as a fly command and it is still considered bad luck today, despite the absence of whistled commands.

Behind a stunning waterfall curtain the stage is, rather unusually, raked. Ladies appearing on stage have been warned to watch the length of their skirts. Another feature of the stage is a trap door. The building also witnessed the suffering of patients hospitalised here during the Spanish influenza epidemic that followed World War I, as well as the joyous celebration of the Victory Ball. When the hall was needed for a dance, the sawdust was swept up and stored in sacks. Locals found a variety of creative ways to polish the floor including driving a Baby Austin around with a bag of sawdust tied to the back.

Hidden beneath a removable section of flooring, immediately in front of the stage, is the orchestra. I also spied a s dimmer board — a relic from the New Plymouth Opera House; historic graffiti chronicling productions throughout history, starting with Dianne Develops; early in-built hearing aids in the gallery seating; and even vintage movie projectors. The old Erneman projectors are housed in an addon room at the rear of the dress circle. Although the room detracts from the integrity of the original It obscures what was a lovely window, and replaced the balcony from which major announcements were made, including the results of elections and the start and finish of World War II.

From the outside, the building looks partEdwardian, part-barn. Local architect John Alfred Duffil was 24 years old when he designed it. He went on to design hundreds of Taranaki buildings including the municipal building next door. Eltham is small but surprising. In addition to being a fabulous theatre space, the building is a repository of treasured memories, many of which, amusing and alarming, have been captured in The Eltham Town Hall: Memories of a Community Treasure, edited by Karen Christian.

If you are interested in hiring the Eltham Town Hall, enquiries can be made by calling the Eltham Library on or emailing contact stdc. The lyrics are actually pretty cool in terms of the Christmas truce that some observed during war time, and it involves Snoopy, whom one cannot deny is pretty damned awesome. Glory Days would like to introduce our new music columnist: Tina Turntables.

Make sure you tune in to 95bFM on the radio if in Auckland or online here link to www. Of course Christmas exacerbates most stressful issues: money, religion, family and worst of all obligation. Which is probably why almost everyone eats themselves into full food coma. So for me, Christmas music, like all the music I love, needs to run the gamut of emotions and experiences. This is one of the very first novelty Christmas songs, and one of the few written by a woman.

Who could ask for more? Anyone with even a modicum of emotion, even the most hardened meat worker, would surely melt upon it entering their ear canal. New Auckland band Swampland is dedicated to resurrecting the sound of sixties garage. They have swiftly moved from a supporting to a headlining act, and word of mouth alone is now filling gigs to capacity. So who is behind it all, and where did it begin? Mandy Neugebauer chats to founding member Tony Daunt.

How would you describe your sound to those unfamiliar with garage? Where did the inspiration for the band name come from, and how is it relevant to your sound? It pretty much depicted the style of music I wanted to play. How long have you been playing this particular style of music? What kind of music was that? We got expelled a lot! Punk is the background of my music.

Out of punk came the punk rocker. And after that? How many instruments can you play, and what are they? Double bass, electric bass, guitar. Chris Isaak. What can punters expect when they come to one of your gigs? Do you ever aspire to play behind chicken wire? Not anymore! Name a musical influence you think would surprise your fans: Fleetwood Mac. As a kid, did you slick your hair back and sing into a hairbrush?

Well, the first time I dressed like that was when I was It was mufti day at school and I had seen the movie Grease which had just been released. I never looked back! Have you played with or supported any artists our readers may know? Our website is www. Miracle on 34th Street is a good example; a film made famous for its wholesome representation of Christmas, but beneath its festive wrapping exists a revealing study of social instability and modern anxiety.

Kris, however, believes himself to be the real Santa, appearing at a time when the meaning of Christmas has been forgotten, buried under the onslaught of crass commercialism. What better place than a department store to remind everyone what the holiday is about? Like so many films of the era, Miracle on 34th Street ends up in a courtroom — that bastion of American freedom, as Kris fights to prove his true identity.

With the gift of hindsight, some troubling issues about the social climate in are what make Miracle on 34th Street such a pleasure to unwrap. The film is ostensibly about reclaiming the meaning of the season, and representing the cynicism of modernity. Doris, an apartment-dwelling single mother with a high-powered job, is the very antithesis of family values at the time.

Interest Fred Gailey John Payne , and culminating in a now-iconic scene involving the delivery of thousands of letters to Santa into the courtroom, all is wrapped up with a neat, inevitable little bow. The film can be enjoyed for its seasonal sweetness, but there is a dash of bitterness in this particular Christmas treat.

A successful blogger, Etsy store owner and mother of two, Brittany is also the founder of popular e-zine Hey Doll! Can you tell us a little about yourself? I live in a little s house in a historic town near the Missouri River with my husband Pj and our two little ones, Olivia age three and Rhys age two.

I have always loved fashion history and when I found out that there were people out there wearing pieces of history every day, I wanted to do it too! I started my blog to document my new love for vintage and my personal style. After blogging for a few years, I opened my Etsy shop to share some of my finds and started an e-zine, Hey Doll! Vintage Magazine as a way to involve the community and share our passion and inspiration with each other.

How do you keep the balance between being a mama, blogger and magazine editor? Aside from the blog, the ezine and my kids, I also have a lot of time-consuming hobbies like knitting, gardening, sewing and just relaxing for a while! The key is a solid, reasonable schedule. I also wake up very early to schedule my Twitter tweets, whip up some breakfast and water the garden. Although my kids are very small, we do a lot of activities together too. My daughter Olivia loves to help me wash dishes so she can play in the bubbles or sit and cut up bits of scrap fabric while I sew.

I started my blog when Olivia was just three months old so my kids have been a big part of the blog since the beginning. Olivia is starting to get a really good eye, which makes me so proud. The best thing that I have to help me balance everything is my husband, Pj. Welcome to Howick Historical Village. Set over seven acres, the spectacular living history museum accurately simulates life in a Fencible settlement from The recreated colonial village, which opened in , is made up of 30 original houses and cottages —all salvaged from the Howick area and then painstakingly relocated to the current site.

The buildings include a church, schools, a general store, The cottages even contain their original furnishings from yesteryear. They were offered a new life in New Zealand including free passage with their families. After seven. For the rest of their time, they were allowed to pursue other employment. All in all, 2, fencibles and their families made the gruelling voyage to Auckland and settled in fencible villages in Howick, Panmure, Otahuhu and Onehunga. But when the first boats arrived, the passengers discovered there were no cottages waiting.

So they bunked down in tents or Raupo cottages while others slept in gender-segregated sheds on Howick beach. The fencibles had a profound effect on Auckland and many of their descendents still live in the area. Today, the buildings, gardens and archives are maintained by volunteers and members of the Howick and Districts Historical Society Inc. As well as thirty original buildings, the living museum also houses extensive archives containing records of early settlers and their families, over 2, textile items from , a collection of nineteenth century paintings and a host of household furniture and decorative art.

Pop into the general store or wander inside cottages where you can try biscuits cooked over an open fires, or learn about everyday crafts and activities. You can also experience a Victorian school lesson, take part in a church service, and enjoy a marionette show. The 65th Regiment was the longest-serving of any British army regiment in New Zealand and were stationed here for nearly 20 years during the s. For anyone who fancies stepping into our colonial past for an afternoon, Howick Historical Village is a fascinating place to start.

For more info, check out www. With its authentic Victorian architecture, historic harbour and a core of committed heritage enthusiasts, Oamaru has spawned The New Zealand Penny Farthing Championship Races, a home for traditional crafts of wood working and bookbinding and the annual Victorian Heritage Celebrations. Steampunk events were added to the annual Victorian Heritage festivities four years ago and Victorian science fiction is now embraced by the town. A century later, science fiction writers in London, England inspired by their predecessors, were writing plots based in Victorian London with steampowered versions of twentieth century technology, airships, space travel and alternative futures.

Steampunk soon expanded from literature to lifestyle. Many of the assembled chaps admired the artifact and declared that they could do similar things with goodies in their sheds. This motivated Darling to show off the talent of the creative Oamaru people and so he proposed an exhibition to run concurrently with the Victorian Heritage celebrations in November The exhibition soon took on a life of its own. Contributions of all shapes and sizes came from across New Zealand including an entire range of portraits and rayguns from Weta Workshops in Wellington.

The crowds overflowed the Forrester Gallery and spilled out into the main street. Steampunk in New Zealand had taken off. The first fashion show and gala ball followed in June , alongside the exhibition and it has since spiralled into a full blown annual festival. More than 30, people have visited the exhibitions to date and enthusiasts from Whangerei to Invercargill and Australia converge on Oamaru each June.

In , the city of Auckland was electrified by news of one of the biggest events ever to be staged in the region. Importers, manufacturers and retailers vied with each other to display the range of products available in the Dominion, including examples of fine art, heavy machinery, tinned fruit, imported lace, and New Zealand-made ceramics. The official guide included an entire section on fashion. An art gallery and concert hall contrasted with the presence of the largest amusement park in the country. The goal was to create the opportunity for the city and district to create an elaborately organised spectacle and establish a fund for improving the longneglected Auckland Domain.

The idea was eagerly embraced and proved a credit to its promoters and supporters. The largest attendance recorded on a single day was 40, people. Considering the. Thousands made their way by the new electric tram system to the Domain, most via Symonds Street and Karangahape Road. Vast tracts of the Domain were fenced off to provide space for sports events and other activities and for buildings specifically constructed for the exhibition. City Parks Superintendent Thomas Pearson organised scores of labourers to beautify the grounds. This resulted in permanent features, including paths, rockeries, flowerbeds and plantings which cost 4, pounds.

One of the cafes was intended as a permanent structure and still stands today, located near the duck ponds. It was a combination of trade fair, Easter Show and garden party. There was even a pleasure ground where people could stroll amongst flowerbeds and exotic palm trees while enjoying music from several bands. The repertoire would have ranged from Gilbert and Sullivan and Souza Marches to the new ragtime tunes. There were two bandstands, one of wood and the other ofbrick, cement and iron.

The materials for the latter were paid for by local businessman Mr J. Mennie; this structure remains a feature of the Domain to this day. The main building was distinguished by two towers, one of which contained an electric lift. It took people up to the gallery connecting the two towers. The viewing gallery was 70 feet above the ground and provided a magnificent view of the harbour. The other tower boasted a spiral staircase. Another highlight of the exhibition was an aeronautic display: hundreds flocked to witness the Bleriot monoplane Britannia fly over the Domain, piloted by New Zealander Joseph J Hammond.

Flying was a great novelty at the time: the Wright brothers had flown at Kittyhawk only five years earlier. Other modern inventions on show included demonstrations of the newfangled gramophones, and moving pictures. Beyond the pleasure ground was an avenue leading to a sizeable amusement park called Wonderland. The fun park included many fairground exhibits that are now considered standard fare for any modern amusement park, but were mostly unfamiliar to New Zealanders at the time.

At night, the exhibition and amusement park were transformed into a marvellous colour-tinted spectacle, thanks to the novel use of electric power and light. Every building glowed with electric light bulbs or was bathed in floodlighting. Searchlight beams swept the heavens and even the waters were illuminated by the new electric wonder of the modern world. The electric fairy fountain was inspired by the Chicago Exhibition. The fountain was the first in Australasia, and was worked by electric motors and centrifugal pumps. Around the fountain jets were eight lamps, in each of which were glasses of different colours.

It left a vastly improved landscape and a brand new set of buildings in its wake, and the profits helped build the much-admired Wintergardens in the Domain. Each night that summer — the last one before the outbreak of World War One — people wandered the gardens, inhaling the night-scented flowers, listening to music and soaking up the magical effects of the moon and electric lights. Listening to their stories and seeing their photographs from the s has inspired me to compare their endeavours with the classic scooter riders of today.

Half a century ago, a scooter with a pint-sized engine was a big step up from walking or using a bicycle. The urge to leave the nest and seek adventure was the preserve of younger adults who were not yet tied into mortgages and working. Therefore a scooter was an achievable transport solution for a long distance journey — and still provided independence from train or bus networks. It also offered ample space for rider, passenger and luggage alike. For Kiwis dreaming of their big OE, the first obstacle was the fare.

There were no Grab-a-Seat deals or cheap student fares in those days. Air travel to Europe was reserved for business people and those who could afford the luxury. Most travellers therefore embarked on a long sea voyage to reach their destination. Some were lucky and could work for their fare — for the rest, it came down to savings.

In addition to his day job, he attached a trailer to his Vespa, on which he carried a lawnmower. For months, he spent every spare minute doing lawn-mowing work. As time ran out out, he made a last-ditch effort by betting on the horses — and luckily it paid off! The first involved equipment and gear. Forget cosy thermal underwear, weather-proof clothing and armoured riding gear, composite carry systems, mobile phone back up and GPS — they had none of that.

Helmets were sometimes worn but a good ski cap and goggles could do the trick. With some luck they had oilskin raincoats, and the luggage was However, there was also an upside to travelling back then. Marti and Gerrard Friedlander gave me an insight into their epic trip from the UK to Greece and Israel in look out for their honeymoon photo collection in an upcoming issue. They explained that they started their trip hardly carrying any money. They would have made a fascinating sight, especially as it was far less common to travel long distances in those days, particularly on a scooter.

READERS ON THE CHRONOLOGY

The priority was to get there, survive the journey, be able to afford the trip and to remain free and independent. When you look at the pictures of those travellers you can read their faces, full of excitement and sense of adventure. They wore jandals and shorts to cross the Alps on gravel roads, popped into town barefoot and spent rainy days covered in oilskins. But they always seemed to have a smile when posing for the camera.

The exhausting nature of scooter travel is illustrated by another anecdote from Marti. Marti and Gerrard travelled on their Lambretta all the way to Greece and then up to the temples like other tourists. Our desire for comfort was replaced with boundless optimism and an appetite for adventure.

Instead of a pre-booked hotel room, they met new people, and sometimes made lifelong friendships. Albert shako hat, emblazoned with the royal crest of Victoria and strapped tightly under his chiselled jaw. Equipped with a Brown-Bess musket and unblinking thousand-yard stare, Henry was the immobile image of a brave soldier. Yet for all this perfection, and seemingly as though his creator wished upon him a cruel joke, below his simple nose where there should have been a painted line for a mouth, there was simply a thin, drooping, black moustache.

At first glance, Henry would forever appear to be on the verge of tears. Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow. After the last gifts had been opened and all the kisses had been shared. After all the relatives had outstayed their collective welcomes and stray dogs had feasted upon the bountiful scraps of turkey and ham, life would return to the bitter cold streets, a sluggish pulse in a vast network of dark veins.


  • Tes bras pour refuge (Prelud) (French Edition).
  • Penny For The Queen?
  • Work: How to Find Joy and Meaning in Each Hour of the Day;
  • Welche Bedeutung haben Geschlechtskonstruktionen für die Erwachsenenbildung? (German Edition);
  • Steampunkopedia | Steampunk | Leisure;
  • Alkynes in Cycloadditions.

It was so bitterly cold in fact, that most folk would simply take an axe to their precious Christmas tree, after carefully removing the wooden and glass heirloom ornaments that adorned it. The once-proud giant that had stood at the centre of their home for the past 12 nights, a monument to the season of giving and sharing, kindness and gratitude, scattering across the family rug pine needles that were what warmth and joy smelled like, was cut into pieces, was thrown onto a crackling, hungry fire.

Michelle Kopra

From head to foot ,Henry was an immaculately presented three-inch statuette of a royal infantryman serving under Queen Victoria. His scarlet coat had alabaster-white sashes diagonally crossing his firm chest, badges on each broad shoulder, and braiding at the cuff of each sleeve, ornately gilded in gold-leaf.

His jet-black hair was hidden beneath an Henry shared storage season with the wooden rocking horses and glass baubles, lead trinkets and wax candies. She had been demoted and replaced by a newer, unbroken angel. So now, before him, in crest-fallen shame on the fourth tier, was this majestic wax angel with two broken wings and a scuffed and deeply scarred left cheek. Henry had never seen a more imperfectly beautiful thing in all his Christmases past.

Locked in a gaze with his angel for 12 days had awakened something inside him, and he yearned to be just a little closer to her; to protect her from the sudden gusts of wind that came and went with the opening of the door. He wanted to admire the soft rouge daubed on her non-scuffed cheek; to raise his wooden hand and stroke her soft blonde hair; to catch her, should she ever fall again.

Henry tried his utmost to maintain eye contact through each passing hour, never allowing her to catch him looking at her facial disfigurement. Her exquisite soft lips and large blue eyes stared right back at him. Oh, how he ached to comfort her. He stopped briefly, wiping away with his sleeve the beads of sweat that peppered his brow. The few precious hours after dusk had been the most cherished, as the house was filled with joyous laughter and choruses of song, the aroma of sweet meats and glazed cherries.

Brightly coloured packages were exchanged between family, torn open with fervour and delight, and streams of paper and string had littered the floor. But a tiny golden light deep in the forest beckoned to him and he found himself again running, dodging thick tree trunks and uneven ground, eyes caught between watching his footfall and finding the origin of the ever-growing bright light in the distance.

On and on he ran for what felt like miles, until the light grew in intensity and he was forced to shield his eyes with the back of his hand. Occasionally, the flames threw just enough light to make it almost appear as though she was whispering silently to him, a sad little secret bundled and cast across too wide a divide, her messages lost in the pine fronds. Henry wished he had been able to impress upon her how truly exquisite she looked, bathed in the orange and golden hue.

He felt his arms and legs heavy at first, noticing for the first time that he could look down at his own gloved hands. He was alive! He burst into a run, he jumped and skipped. Tearing off his cumbersome hat and coat, he sprinted through a tall grassy field stretching forever left and right. He ran and ran with determination, arriving at the edge of a dark forest. Looking through the slits between his fingers, he was now able to make out a dark silhouette against the brightness and he stumbled forward, racing sometimes on hands and feet to keep from tripping. After passing just a few more thick branches and trunks, he stopped completely motionless as though caught in a giant spiderweb.

Henry was completely frozen on his feet. He fell to his hands and knees, his heart stopped beating, he stared silently in disbelief and watched in horror as his beautiful angel, his one true love, the perfectly wonderful silent companion, burned brightly, her entire body engulfed in flame.

Waking abruptly, Henry tried with all his might to leap forward across the void and save her, but found his body once again carved in wood, and he was left with nothing more than the last few precious seconds with his waxen love. And as the fire surrounded them both, her delicate features began to warp and drip, her hair falling in clumps, arms silently drooping before collapsing against herself.

Henry smelled the burning pine needles and felt the hot embrace of the fire consuming his hands and feet. Of all of my treasured items, I have, with a little difficulty, narrowed it down to three. They all keep alive the aura of a magic time, and also capture my peculiar history. It was, and still is, the high end of s portable music and I would much rather watch a stack of records play through than switch on the television.

As a child I remember playing with it — my main fascination being that the large tuning dial named many of the exotic locations around the world including Scotland that the BBC World Service broadcast to and from. That, and the fact that the dial is exquisitely balanced and can be used to tune very accurately. My MB60 is a five valve radio and weighs over 3kg. It was the first radio to use an Ogle cabinet designed by David Ogle. The company was very successful during the s in household and industrial product design. It is still in working order, although I have a modern replica that I use to take out and about.

Like my parents, they make a grand couple. They were all originally produced in olive green with the exception of those used by the GPO which were bright red. I enjoy it so much because of its hugely understated beauty, simple mechanics and reliability. If only people could be more so. Take it greasy,. By Claire Gormly Welcome to the first instalment of a brand new column, where editor Claire Gormly delves into the history of New Zealand pubs and samples the local hospitality.

Pub accommodation used to be the only option if you were in search of a cheap bed in provincial New Zealand. Glory Days aims to highlight these gems and remind people that the opportunity to stay at a cheap, character-loaded New Zealand icon is right under their noses. Eketahuna may sound like a song from an old Disney movie, but it is in fact a sleepy little farming town 20km north of Masterton.

The Commercial is a squat, unassuming s pub, run by the lovely and industrious husband and wife team, Lynn and Colin, who have run the pub for 16 years. Colin says that pubs are a dying breed, and this one survives mostly due to the TAB thanks to the fact that Racing NZ now has a race every day. Tonight is pool night, a friendly competition between the Commercial and the pub down the road that was shut down because of a painted-over sprinkler system. The accommodation wing is a delightful trip to the s, the signs on the bathroom are original and the Axminster carpet has a worn strip right down the middle of the corridor.

Lynn remembers a movie being made here, in Room Three. It was a romantic movie that focused a lot on the bed. Shooting got in the way of her laundry duties and coughing fits were met with annoyance. Excitement ensued when she revealed that a horse was buried under the bar. However, on questioning, a patron revealed that it was simply a hoof print embedded in the concrete foundations. A fitting beginning to a thriving TAB, but not as good a story as a whole horse resting in peace under the floorboards. I was made to feel thoroughly at home, a roaring fire was made for me, and an electric blanket readied.

It was a little spooky as I was the only guest, and the corridor is long and dark. I had a few worried thoughts about the patrons of the bar knowing I was here alone and coming to find me — maybe to destroy my photographic evidence, maybe worse — but I rallied and had a fantastic sleep.

In previous issues of Glory Days, Hopped Up has featured four-wheeled machines capable of taking a few people for a spin. David has ridden penny farthings for more than 20 years, founded the New Zealand National Championships, toured the length of New Zealand on his hand-built penny and even cycled one in the Parliament buildings!

Rose Jackson spent an afternoon wheeling around with David in Oamaru, to understand the nuts and bolts of an ordinary bicycle. When did you first discover penny farthings? Oamaru has been working on the restoration of its original town centre, now known as the Victorian Precinct, since We discovered there was a penny farthing club in the town in , and I. How fast can they go? How fast have you ever travelled on one? Fast — our top New Zealand riders have recorded speeds of over 35km an hour. Are modern penny farthings still made to original specs or have you modified them with the help of modern-day innovations?

A new club, the Oamaru Ordinary Cycle Club, was formed a few years later. Why do they appeal to you? Do you build your own? That expedition was over 2,km and I travelled as a modern day swagger— with only the gear I could carry and no back-up vehicle. The bike alone weighed 57kg! We remain true to the original specifications, using the latest welding equipment and machinery. Ten machines of varying sizes are under construction now at the Oamaru Cycle Works workshop, under the direction of Oamaru master bike builder Graeme Simpson. Each bike is pre-sold and the owners are building their own.

What do you say to those who believe penny farthings belong in the past? Knowing and understanding our past and conserving our historic and cultural heritage is an important part of establishing a strong sense of community and local and national identity. Why should someone have a go at riding one? Are there any technical difficulties to overcome when assembling a penny farthing? This determines the size of the front wheel. The rider must also be able to comfortably sit on the seat and peddle.

Ensuring the spoke size is correct, along with the backbone connecting the small wheel to the front forks, is important and intricate work. The front forks require careful measurements, and intricate welding. During the s, blacksmiths did a lot of this work in their forges. Words and photography by Rose Jackson In one of those difficult pick-a-path moments in life, if you chose to veer right at the fork in the road at Oamaru down State Highway One, you would completely bypass one of the most outstanding examples of living history in New Zealand, and possibly the world.

Call into the visitor centre and ask for Ralph. Ralph Sherwood is a veritable walking encyclopaedia of local knowledge and he can fill you in on why the main street is so wide, who The Larrakins were, and where to find the best ghost-sighting spot in town! If you want a close encounter with apparitions, book a room at the Criterion! Set aside an hour in the afternoon, when the perfect light is filtering through the shop windows, to chew the fat with Michael while you watch him work on the most stunning traditional bookbindings you will ever see.

Rob is a very obliging chap, so if you would like to have a look at the beautiful machines up close, just ask. Wallto-wall creativity and fantasy rolled up in an atmospheric highceilinged Victorian warehouse. It must be seen to be believed. With a plethora of wheeled machines to choose from, you will be cruising like a pro in five minutes flat.

They are well worth the effort, I promise! Stuffed full to the rafters with everything a vintage lover loves, you could quite easily spend an afternoon here and only get through a third of the shop.

See a Problem?

At the time of writing, the owners were in France enjoying a sourcing trip for the store, so if you are looking for a tres bon piece of vintage in rural Canterbury, Vintage Chic has the merchandise for you! For more information, contact sean littledeath. Leimomi Oakes: I learned to sew when I was very young, and by high school was making most of my own clothes. I was already working for a theatre costume shop to pay my way through university, and after graduating I went to work for museums. Glory Days spent a morning with Leimomi over tea and cake, to view her impressive collection and unearth the tales behind her wardrobe.

LO: Not really. Mostly I focus on collecting the things that I find unexpectedly, or am given. My collection is more the story of my life than a planned theme. GD: Are there specific items or eras that you concentrate on collecting? LO: My s rayon Hawaiian shirt. LO: Probably my working collection of antique and vintage buttons, lace, thread, ribbons, thimbles, needles and other sewing notions. Some are just to enjoy visually, but many I use. I like that they are the tools of my trade both as a seamstress, and a historian.

GD: One piece you would save in a fire? I inherited my love of collecting and sewing, along with her hats and fabric collection, from my paternal grandmother. After I was given her hats, I picked one to wear to go visit Grandpa. That hat turned out to be one he had bought her when they were courting in Joliet, Illinois. She admired it in the window of a posh department store on their first date, but said someone would be foolish to spend that much on a hat.

The next time he came to visit he was carrying a hatbox, and in it was that hat. It was the last time I saw Grandpa before he passed. LO: In acid-free boxes, padded with acid-free tissue to prevent creasing and stress on the seams, and wrapped in more tissue. More robust pieces can go on hangers padded out until they are the width of human shoulders, with extra ties inside the garment to help support their weight, and then can be wrapped in Tyvek or acid-free muslin. GD: Any tips for readers on how to organise their wardrobes?

LO: I organise my items by what items are likely to be worn and used together. LO: As investments in knowledge; clothing and textiles are integral to history. They are the thing everyone wears closest to themselves, every day. They tell the human story on a very intimate, personal level.

GD: Favourite accessory? LO: My collection of marcasite and pearl jewellery. Throughout recorded history, regardless of skin colour or geographical location, both women and men have literally painted their faces. From Ancient Greece and Egypt up to Victorian England there were two camps: the women and men who believed painting their faces enhanced their beauty, and those who sought to ban cosmetics outright. This quote comes from the Middle Ages:. White lead was dissolved in distilled water, sometimes mixed with animal products, mixed to a fine wash and painted onto the face.

Alternatively, it was concentrated, dried and used as a powder. Ironically, the copious layers of paint and powder that people applied to make themselves look It prematurely aged the skin, imbuing it with a blue tinge. It also caused gum disease, making teeth fall out and causing metallic breath. In the mid s, women whitened their faces, layer upon layer, so they would not have to remove it every day, and to fill in lines and wrinkles.

It was during this time that ultra-fashionable men were at least as made up as the ladies. This cosmetic extravagance did not last, and the turn of the nineteenth century saw a steep decline in the social acceptability of cosmetics. Women turned to subtlety and deception. Countless books were written on how to achieve natural beauty, the importance of exercise and the effect of inner beauty, as opposed to artificiality.

Women disregarded this advice in their droves. As rouge and enamel were now unacceptable, and obvious in their application, women turned. Pearl powders made by dissolving seed peals or mother of pearl in acid became popular. A product called Bismuth powder was a cheaper alternative. Bismuth had an unfortunate tendency to turn the face black when the wearer came into contact with sulphur fumes, a common occurrence due to the use of gas lighting. This of course caused immense distress to women who were trying to hide the fact that they used cosmetics!

By the deception was beginning to wear off, and cosmetics were big business for some. They were creeping into shops, and the very first beauty parlours appeared. Enamelling was simply painting the face, almost always with lead, due to the striking effects it could produce. The face would first be prepared with an alkaline wash.

Wrinkles were filled in with paste, and white lead was painted on, followed by red. Finally veins were painted on. Such a heavy base required the wearer to be expressionless, lest the makeup crack. Madame Rachel was also doing a roaring trade in exotic-sounding cosmetic concoctions, including Magnetic Rock Dew Water from the Sahara. She was eventually jailed for fraud, her products discredited as merely tap water.

But her influence has endured to the current day with her name given to a certain shade of face powder. Around this time, there was a spike in women presenting with paralysis. They were initially diagnosed with hysteria, but under questioning,. In , a huge leap was made in the safety of powder when it was discovered that zinc oxide did not discolour and would not harm the skin.

This led to a boom in sales, and sounded the death knell for poisonous leadbased products. By the late s, commercial cosmetics enterprise was the way of the future. Cosmetics were fast becoming an enormous industry and there was intense competition between face powder manufacturers. In , the reign of face powder came to an end. This was the year Max Factor invented a new kind of paint — the first water-soluble cake foundation, called Pan Cake.

Originally invented to combat the powerful new lights used on Hollywood sets, it was so popular with actresses that Factor was quick to market his product to the masses. Foundation overtook powder in popularity until recently, when consumers became prey to the mass-marketing brilliance of Thin Lizzy, and its predecessor Natural Glow.

We have moved through the ages with powder and paint; there has never been a point where we have not used them, and there may never be a point when they are obsolete. They have been our greatest asset, our biggest secret, and our deadliest poison. If you feel you need foundation, make sure you finish it off with a loose powder to decrease the shine. Aim for as close a match to your skin colour as possible. An alternative version has the heroine demanding she be laced tighter and tighter until her waist fits an almost-impossibly small measure.

It's also a detailed explanation of how Google builds and runs reliable systems at scale. I knew abstractly that Google is being less secretive about internal systems than before but it's still astonishing to see all of these things collected in one place: Stubby, Borg, Task Master and Workflow, Borgmon and Monarch and Viceroy, Chubby, Escalator and Outalator, GSLB, how to manage SLOs and error budgets,… Even if you work at Google, you'll probably still learn a lot from this book about how Google works.

Recommended if you have any professional interest in large scale services. The third and last book of Kristin Lavransdatter. The first book of Kristin Lavransdatter begins with Kristin's birth and naturally the last book ends with her death. In Nidaros, in In The Cross we see the further consequences of the decisions that Kristin made early in the first book, and, as the title suggests, they are not entirely happy. Also as the title suggests, she eventually has other concerns by the end of her life. It's an alternate history set in a world where the Hess Mission was successful and Britain made a separate peace and eventually acquired its own version of fascism.

penny for the queen a steampunk fantasy romance novella shimmy and steam series book 4 Manual

Half a Crown begins in just after the Reich has won its twenty years war against the Soviet Union. There is to be a peace conference in London to divide up the remains, and perhaps the Duke of Windsor, the former Edward VIII, is trying to make trouble. The head of Britain's equivalent of the Gestapo more of a decent person than you'd expect given that job description is handling security arrangements.

The other viewpoint character is his ward, a debutante whose biggest concern is what she'll wear for her presentation to the Queen; she wouldn't seem like someone who would become involved in great events, but it's an unsettled time when unexpected things might happen. The third book of the Thessaly trilogy. The first book, The Just City , is about an attempt by the goddess Athene to create a working model of the city that Plato described in the Republic , with founding citizens from all times and with 22nd century robots instead of slaves.

The second book, The Philosopher Kings , continues the story as competing views emerge about what way of life is truly Platonic and about whether Plato's vision is even desirable or just, and ends with what can only be described as a deus ex machina. The ending of The Philosopher Kings made it clear that the last book would go off in a completely new direction, as indeed it does, but I still hadn't expected quite the directions that this book goes off in.

There are spaceships and aliens, as one would expect, and also stranger things. And there are FTL starships, but when you're already in a story with time traveling gods, what's a little more causality violation between friends? In this book we don't have causality as a principle that imposes logical structure on the universe, but we do have Fate and Necessity. The second book of Kristin Lavransdatter , a trilogy of novels written in the early 20th century and set in early 14th century Norway. In the first book, The Wreath , Kristin succeeds in getting the husband she wanted, at some cost.

In this book we get to see how it worked out for her. Not entirely disastrously, and her husband didn't fail her in the way that one might have guessed, and the fault wasn't entirely his. Both he and Kristin are interestingly flawed. Norwegians would undoubtedly have recognized some of the names from history and have known what to expect of some of the political machinations given that the king is Magnus VII.

I was sometimes a little lost. The Thirty-Nine Steps — the book, not the Hitchcock movie — is set in the summer of and is about a sinister German plot to steal the secret plans for the naval defense of Britain. Greenmantle is the lesser known sequel, written and set in Richard Hannay, now a major fighting on the Western Front, is called in to deal with another sinister German plot, this one an attempt to start a jihad against the British Empire.

It didn't surprise me that the book was somewhat racist by today's standards. It also didn't surprise me that it was reasonably respectful of Islam; British imperialists may not have understood Islam, but they admired it. What did surprise me was the book's sympathetic portrayal of Germans, even including the kaiser himself. They're the enemy, but by and large good people, and even the two villains are admirable in some ways.

The first volume of Churchill's WWI memoirs. It's partly a history of the overall diplomatic and military events, including, for example, a chapter on the Battle of the Marne, but it's mostly a record of Churchill's own experiences as First Lord of the Admiralty. It deservedly gets quoted a lot, since it's a primary source and Churchill was a gifted writer, but it also has to be taken with a grain of salt. One agenda behind this book was Churchill arguing that he wasn't responsible for disasters like the Battle of Coronel, the fall of Antwerp, the escape of the Goeben to Constantinople, and the Gallipoli campaign.

Or Kransen in the original Norwegian. It's the first book of Kristin Lavransdatter , a trilogy of historical novels set in the 14th century. Kristin Lavransdatter is Undset's best known work, and the primary basis for her Nobel prize. But at least he's still alive — if that's the right word for his condition — unlike several other members of his brood. A love story, an apocalyptic story, a story about the conflict between magic and science. A police procedural murder mystery set a few decades in the future, in a world where Haden's Syndrome has left millions locked in: conscious but completely paralyzed.

New assistive technologies, implanted neural networks and telepresence robots and Integrators and virtual worlds, allow Hadens, including the book's main character, to function and participate in society. They also enable completely new kinds of crime. The subtitle is A Melodrama of Manners , and that's a good description: graceful surfaces concealing more complicated implications, delicate maneuvering with complicated rules where what's unsaid is usually more important than what's said, love affairs and political alliances and blurry combinations of the two.

And swords. And especially since this is Pride Weekend, I also ought to mention that the most important romance in this book is between two men. This was Ellen's first novel, and it's still her best known. I've read it several times. Steven Weinberg is a professional physicist, one of the best he's done important work in cosmology, and he shared the Nobel Prize for his work on what's now called the Standard Model of elementary particle theory, a.

He's taught a few courses on the subject, and it's at least implicit in a few of his other books. It's a fairly convincing argument; if you're trying to explain why one point of view largely replaced another, surely you shouldn't neglect correspondence with actual physical reality. Not every history needs to be written with that point of view, but some should be. That's especially true if the author understands the science well enough to explain what some scholar from an earlier era was trying to do, what their argument meant in quantitative terms using notation that's understandable today, and why their approach worked, to the extent that it did.

If you've studied science of any kind then you'll undoubtedly know some of this story, since a class on any technical field usually includes at least a little bit on how our present understanding developed. You probably won't know all of the story, though, in part because those introductions we all get are always radically simplified for pedagogical purposes. One thing I learned that was new to me, for example, was that the Ptolemaic model of the universe was not universally accepted in the pre-Copernican era — far from it.

Aristotle had a quite different model, also geocentric but different in many other ways, and there was serious argument between the two up through Galileo's day. What's even more interesting is that everyone agreed that Ptolemy's model agreed better with observational data, but that didn't stop a lot of people from preferring Aristotle's model anyway. For many scholars quantitative agreement with observed data wasn't the only criterion by which to evaluate a model, and not necessarily even the most valued. A model was also judged by the extent to which it could be arrived at deductively from a priori justification, the extent to which it embodied moral or teleological description, the extent to which it explained essence rather than merely appearance.

Part of this story is about how we arrived at our present understanding of the world and part of it is about a change in the idea of what, in broad terms, an explanation of the world should look like. The last book of Farrell's Empire trilogy, this one about the last days of the British empire in Singapore. Not the real Mars that we know through probes and robots, or the simulated Mars of the Mars Desert Research Station that David Levine participated in, or even the imagined early 20th century Mars of Edgar Rice Burroughs or Robert Heinlein, although it owes something to those latter.

This is an imagined early 19th century Mars that never was. It's and the wooden ships of the Honorable Mars Company sail the great interplanetary winds, and the Napoleonic Wars are fought in the skies as well as on land and at sea, and the English colonists with their khoresh -wood plantations and native servants make sure their little society on Mars is still decently English.

It's partly a comedy of manners and partly an adventure story, and also a bit of steampunk without steam, and it's a lot of fun. I'm not at all sure how to describe this book. It's strange and memorable, and I imagine I'll come back to it. It's set in the 25th century, in a world that seems alien to us but where there at least seems to be some path from our world. It's also a philosophical novel, and a very talky one, an entry in the great conversation of the Enlightenment; it's also distanced in a number of ways, some obvious from the beginning, like the deliberately archaic 18th century style, others not.

It has interesting things to say about gender. I find myself wondering if the world could work as described, but perhaps that's also something the characters in it wonder about; there are reasons, again hinted at from early in the book, to think that it's about a time of instability and transition where an old order is breaking down. If the narrator is to believed but are they? A global history of is of course largely a global history of the War. It was an eventful year. A novel of Holy Wood. It's also one of the earlier Discworld books and introduces a number of recurring characters, including Archchancellor Ridcully, the Bursar, Gaspode, and Ponder Stibbons.

Nalo Hopkinson is one of the guests of honor at this year's WisCon. This is her first novel, and also the first book of hers that I've read. It's simultaneously Canadian and Afro-Caribbean, and it's a mixture of the science fictional, set in a ruined Toronto in the near future, and the fantastic. The title comes from a traditional song, which has of course been going through my head while I was reading the book. I know the tune from experiencing Nalo singing it and leading the ring game at a con a few years ago.

It takes longer; you must climb out a window and shimmy up the chimney and pull yourself over by your fingernails without breaking the gutters. Gravity is involved, and unbreakable spells concerning escape velocity. After all, anyone can go down into the cellar if they are not afraid of the dark.

Any tale you care to tell calls for a quick trip to the underworld to bring up another bag of flour and a working knowledge of your darker nature. The surface of the world is like a great black net; any moment you could fall through and fall deep. But for every underworld there is an overworld, an upper world just as strange as the lower, just as bright as its cousin is brooding.

The snow that falls in one splashes down as rain in the other — and brightness is not less perilous than shadow. An Italian poet got himself a ticket good for both shows once and came back to tell us all about it, which shows excellent manners. It's a big world, so somewhere in the world there's probably a version control system more complicated than Git.

I hope I never encounter it. I think this is Butler's best known book, largely because it's the one that's read by people outside the science fiction community. It's a book about slavery, using time travel as a device to see it from a fresh perspective and through modern eyes: a contemporary African-American woman is transported to the early 19th century, with no explanation and no control. Her perspective partly distances her from the lives of the other people on the plantation, but only partly; her relationships with them are complicated, and, as the very first page of the prologue makes clear, she is certainly not protected from the violence of slavery and does not return whole.

Butler deserved all the honors she received, including the PEN lifetime achievement award and the MacArthur fellowship, and Kindred deserves to be as well known as it is. Not always easy to read, of course. Butler was very good at not flinching from what she was writing about. This is one of the O'Reilly Early Release books, meaning that it's unedited, the diagrams are hand drawn, and it's incomplete. About half complete, judging by page count and chapter count. Of course, the Rust language is also still in a pretty rough state. I think this will be a good book when it's finished; I'm going to keep paying attention to Rust as it evolves, and I'll read the whole Programming Rust book when it's done.

Probably what I ought to do in the mean time is look at some real Rust code, like the standard library implementation, and figure out how you write something like a red-black tree in this language. And to be the First Man in Rome was something far better than kingship, autocracy, despotism, call it what you would.

The First Man in Rome held on to that title by sheer pre-eminence, perpetually aware that his world was stuffed with others eager to supplant him — others who could supplant him, legally and bloodlessly, by producing a superior brand of pre-eminence. To be the First Man in Rome was more than being consul; consuls came and went at the rate of two a year. Where as the centuries of the Roman Republic passed, only the smallest handful of men would come to be hailed as the First Man in Rome. It's one of those historical novels where most of the characters are real people, mostly very famous people.

It also comes with an extremely extensive glossary, almost a hundred pages long, that includes some long entries where the author explains her decisions — how she chose to translate or not translate some terms, and which characters and events she invented based on what evidence or guesswork. This is the first in a series of seven books set during the end of the Republic.

I don't know why I'd never heard of them before; it's not as if McCullough is an obscure writer. I'll have to read the rest.

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Edith Wharton is best known nowadays for two books, Ethan Frome and The Age of Innocence , but she was quite a prolific writer. Project Gutenberg has 55 of her books; some of them are duplicates and translations, but that's roughly the right number. The Marne , published , is her War book. It isn't largely about the First Battle of the Marne, which happens offstage early in the book. It's mostly about a privileged American teenager, probably from roughly Wharton's own social background, wishing he could find a way to help France.