I do not believe it is possible to fully appreciate Jules Verne’s prophetic masterpiece without having some understanding of where things stood with warship design during the period Verne set his story. It’s against that backdrop that the Nautilus really shines. Which is not to say that the reality wasn’t pretty damn amazing.

 

In Part One of this blog we engaged in a cursory examination of the naval armaments of Verne’s day. So let us now examine the naval technology of the day—and we’ll begin with the sister ship (and by far the more famous of the two) of the HMS Black Prince. A word of caution first: This is by no means intended to be an exhaustive study of mid 19^th century warship development.

Professor Pierre Arronax’ first encounter with the Nautilus takes place aboard the frigate USS Abraham Lincoln, a wooden warship driven by both steam and sails. The era in which Jules Verne set his novel was a pivotal moment in the evolution of naval power. Nowhere were these developments more striking than in Britain’s Royal Navy.

 

By the 1840s—1850s most British warships, like their European and American counterparts, were hybrid ships with both steam engines and sails. Right about the same time, the paddlewheel—in its time an evolutionary leap forward —was rendered obsolete by the more efficient screw propeller.

I, Nemo is an allegory of contemporary culture: The commodification of humanity, and the wanton destruction of whales and the coastal marine environment.

Which is to say that the steampunk world wasn’t all fun and games and high adventure in exotic locales—at least not for the faceless masses inhabiting the cities.

Factory workers existed to serve the machines whose products were shipped to Imperial possessions girdling the globe. They were paid exploitive wages and endured horrific working conditions—routinely putting in sixteen-hour days, six days a week, in poorly ventilated rooms where the only light came from grimy windows.

 

 To Jonathan de Chevalier Mason—the man who would one day call himself Captain Nemo—the world was filled with people who had offended and humiliated him at every turn. The very Empire he had faithfully served had taken everything from him: His beloved family, his reputation, dignity, and finally his very liberty.

For refusing to handover the Nautilus’ blueprints to the Admiralty he is packed off to Belial Island. Whilst toiling ceaselessly in its steaming jungles he undergoes a transformation from a loyal British subject to a man thirsting for revenge.

The Challenger Deep, August 19, 2037

The Hadal Surveyor dropped through the darkness. The submersible looked like an inverted spider with wings pinned to its back—a spider at the end of a six-mile long hair-thin fiber optic cable that went straight up to a self-positioning telemetry repeater floating a hundred feet beneath the surface. A steel sphere with a viewport was tucked against the submersible’s yellow underbelly like a silver egg sac. The crew module was barely large enough for an average sized male, with barely sufficient room to maneuver among the jumble of electronic gear, electrical conduits and hydraulic lines.

          Often maligned, seldom understood, the “Other Woman” has historically received scant support for her precarious position within an extramarital relationship. She is the home-wrecker, the slut, and a whole host of other derogatory terms. Rarely is the married male lover excoriated as harshly, which says a lot about the stinky double standards applied to women to this day. Whilst the shelves in bookstores are overburdened with self-help books, often brimming with sanctimonious nonsense, for repairing marriages marred by infidelity, the “Other Woman,” who is often left to pick up the pieces after her lover decides to return to his wife, has no such resource—until now.

Once again the inimitable Shosha Pearl has turned out a little gem of finely crafted erotica. In this instance the tale of a housewife’s voyeuristic interest in the sex life of the young couple living in the apartment across from hers. Esther, the mother of a toddler and the wife of a rabbi, witnesses her neighbors having steamy sex late one night. She knows she shouldn’t watch but her eyes are inexorably drawn to their living room window, which is covered by a filmy curtain that provides very little actual privacy. The wife is splayed against the glass whilst her husband takes her from behind, with more than a little, shall we say, brio. To the staid Esther such passionate sex is a revelation that soon evolves into an obsession that threatens to consume her. But make no mistake; this is not a mere bodice ripper. What we have here is a serious psychoanalytical view of an Orthodox Jewish woman’s sexual outlook—and, I would argue, the sexual outlook of religious Jews in general. Which is not to say there is anything—and, I am not being funny—cross my heart and hope to die—dry about Her Neighbor’s Pleasure. It’s as steamy as daiquiri soaked honeymoon sex on the beach in Bora Bora beneath the Pleiades. Whilst the story is unabashedly aimed at religious Jews, anyone who enjoys quality erotica will thoroughly enjoy this book.

Dear Fans,

Raise the Nautilus is nearly complete. A series of serious health issues have slowed the work but it is back on track.

J. Dharma Windham

 

By J. Dharma Windham

I confess, Dear Reader, that I stopped reading books about Wicca and Paganism years ago. Eventually, reading about spells for finding true love, attracting money, color correspondences, etc. just left me yawning. Just as it was in the ancient world, Religion and Magick are two sides of the same coin. But, unlike Goddess worship as practiced by our ancient forebears, modern paganism has always seemed rather light on Theology.