The clockwork worlds – Edginton and Culbard’s glorious Brass Sun

Brass Sun Hardcover,

Ian Edginton, Ian Culbard,



A thousand times a thousand years ago the Blind Watchmaker set the wheel of worlds upon the firmament. And upon those worlds he set the lost tribes of man. Each planet and populous were tasked with their own form and function – each a fine movement. A celestial increment within the greater machine.”

For me, ever since I first saw one in a museum as a very young boy there has been something enchanting about an Orrery, those beautiful, intricate old clockwork and brass moving models of the solar system, little brass and copper planets rotating around a brass sun, tiny metal moons around the planets, each orbiting in their own path and time. Of course cosmology has moved on and today we are confronted by a universe that seems infinitely more complex, and we’ve barely scratched the surface of even our tiny local neighbourhood of it all. And yet that relatively simple clockwork, moving model of the solar system still holds a certain magical fascination, all the heavens displayed at a human scale, in a simple, ordered fashion even a child can understand. Now take that child-like fascination and scale it up – right up – to planetary levels and we have The Orrery, an actual series of real worlds set on their metal rings to orbit their sun like the clockwork model.


It’s a simple but utterly dazzling and wonderful notion and right from the start it affords us some truly glorious science fiction artwork as Ian Culbard delivers achingly beautiful splash pages, from the intricate cogs of the clockwork mechanism (and even in our day of digital tech and touch screens, isn’t there still something delightful about moving machinery of intricate clockwork?) and then pulling back to show us this astonishing solar system, all the little worlds mounted on their stands and rotating around one another and their sun on a clockwork system of wheels and cogs and gears (you can see a preview on the blog here). I think I fell in love with this story right at that early point.

Now imagine that this clockwork solar system is slowly winding down, the environment in the worlds is changing. Like our own world they face environmental change and possible collapse, and like too many in authority in our own world some are ignoring the facts, or in the religious world young Wren lives in, any attempt to use science to examine the changes and devise a plan is seen as heresy, leading to a death sentence. But in the best traditions of the epic quest tale this young woman is about to be catapulted onto an immense journey, and the fate of all these clockwork worlds will be in her hands, as her grandfather, once the high priest, now secret scientist, entrusts her with the knowledge he has gleaned and, as things fall apart on their world, sends her alone, fleeing, beyond all that she has known.


Wren finds herself “riding the rails” – the connecting spars that make up this gargantuan Orrery, engineering spaces from its construction, and fortunately for her she meets some of the few who still attempt to study and maintain it, engineers, and a young apprentice befriends her and, again in finest quest tale tradition joins her, the pair travelling further and further, seeking the broken parts of a key her grandfather thinks can fix the slowly declining Orrery, all the time wondering about the nature of the “Blind Watchmaker” who may, or may not, be the creator of this entire, amazing series of interlinked worlds.

I was reminded several times of Ursula Le Guin’s superb Earthsea, not the story so much, but rather the small, different but connected worlds of Brass Sun putting me in mind of the archipelago of islands from Le Guin’s wonderful fantasy classic, while the adventure and quest elements are familiar from any number of fantasy tales, not to mention the original myths which fed those fantasies – an epic-scale journey into the unknown, dangers on all sides, finding new friends along the way who will be true no matter what (and how their emotional bonding also bonds the reader to them, invests us not just in the big-scale wonder of the tale but in the person-level emotions), and how Wren will have to change and grow on her journey, as all the best heroes always have to .


It’s an achingly gorgeous looking piece of Clockpunk science fiction, and we’ve raved about it as we followed the serialisation in the pages of the much-beloved stalwart of Brit comics, 2000 AD (almost four decades on and still nurturing new work like this). But it’s not just the beauty of the art and the concept, it is a cracking adventure tale, a magnificent quest for our young, untried heroes, who are going to have to grow up fast and face all sorts of challenges, some physical (dangerous environments, nasty people trying to kill them, many now ignorant of how the Orrery was created, or of the other worlds), some mental (the sheer challenge of continuing on into the unknown, the burden placed on such young shoulders), some metaphysical (religion, science, both dealing with the nature of belief and what happens if those beliefs prove to be wrong), and with a subtle message about managing our own environment.



It is a tale to let yourself fall into, to become hopelessly entangled into it until the Orrery and its characters feel almost real to you (just all the best quest tales have always done, drawn us so very deeply in until we feel we are part of their epic journey). And oh, that glorious artwork. I’ve always held that science fiction and fantasy delivers one quality more than any other literary genre: the sheer sense of wonder. And here Edginton and Culbard will fill your head with wonder and beauty and danger and daring. One of the finest series of the year, now collected into a handsome hardback edition, an absolute must-have. As I said, a story to let yourself fall in love with.

this review was originally penned for the Forbidden Planet Blog

The clockwork universe: Edginton & Culbard’s beautiful Brass Sun

Brass Sun #1

Ian Edginton, INJ Culbard



Regular readers will no doubt have heard several of us on here mention Brass Sun, a wonderful science fiction series created by Ian Edginton and Ian Culbard for the mighty 2000 AD. Have you ever, as an adult or a child, been entranced by the simple beauty and wonder of an old clockwork orrery? A seemingly perfect little moving model of the solar system, all the worlds and moons orbiting around the sun, driven by clockwork, representing each world’s distance from the mother sun and length of rotation and orbit relative to its fellows, an intricately fashioned device. Our understanding of celestial orbits and dynamics has increased enormously since those models were first fashionable and we know the universe to be far more complex than we ever dreamed of when first the craftsmen took Newton and Keppler’s laws and applied them so lovingly to these brass representations of the heavens.

And yet the orrery remains such a beautiful piece of work, conjuring dreams of wonder, a marriage of the craftsman’s art, as precise as a hand-built clock, with scientific learning; engineering and art and imagination all in one lovely device, for some a demonstration of what Sagan called “the magnificent machinery of nature”, for other’s proof of a benign deity, a magical clockmaker in the heavens. Now imagine there were real worlds, little realms actually on such an orrery, all living on their little realms rotating around that central sun on their brass wheels. A “wheel of worlds” set by a blind watchmaker… That’s the set up for Brass Sun, which several of us on the blog have been loving in the weekly 2000 AD, but now as part of the ongoing expansion of 2000 AD series (especially to the North American markets) the series (so far, it is still ongoing in the weekly Prog) is being collected into US-style comics of 32 pages, starting late in May, a perfect way to get into it if you missed it in 2000 AD.

brass-sun-1-edginton-culbard-rebellion-01 brass-sun-1-edginton-culbard-rebellion-02 brass-sun-1-edginton-culbard-rebellion-04

Frankly I have to say the Ians had me at that simple but beautiful and wondrous concept alone. And oh, it is beautiful, achingly beautiful – Culbard does wonderful close-up character scenes but he’s also a master of the magnificent splash page, and our first glimpses of this clockwork solar system is a glorious piece of comics art, tapping into that most precious of sensations that science fiction – in both graphic and prose form – does pretty much better than any other genre in literature: the sheer sense of wonder.

But wonder alone isn’t enough – a story requires narrative drive, it requires characters, and we’re in the hands of two of the UK’s very best here. We meet young Wren and her grandfather – he has been committing a dangerous heresy in a very religious and orthodox world, studying the skies with his telescope. He knows he will be noticed and reported, that the guards will come for him, that he will face burning at the stake for his heresy. But he has gained knowledge from old papers, secret papers, and with his scientific study of the sky applied to this he knows that the seemingly relentless icy winter which is pushing into their world, killing all before it, is no accident but a sign of something wrong in the very system of their wheel of worlds. He equips his grand-daughter Wren, entrusting her with information and a ‘quaycard’ and sends her off, knowing that he himself will be dragged before the religious authorities. Indeed we now find out he was once a bishop himself but what he learned turned him from orthodoxy. Now beaten and in chains he argues with the religious leader:

I was like you – I did as the Cog commanded – but the ice still came. Our people freeze and starve by the million. Prayers and persecution cannot hold the inevitable at bay. There must be another way.”

Faith! Faith is the only way!


It’s not hard to see these scenes alluding to the persecution by the church of early astronomer’s for daring to suggest that their observations and calculations showed the progression of the heavens to be different from what the religious authorities of the day said, threatened with torture and worse for daring to speak what we now know is commonsense truth. And it’s not a major leap to see these scenes also as a commentary on some zealots today who refuse to acknowledge rational debate and scientific evidence (think on demands to give creatonism space on a school curriculum alongside evolution). But the world doesn’t care what blinkers people put on and what fables they tell themselves are true, it will do with it will, and in this case it seems the wheels have been slowing for centuries, but religious dogma has chosen to ignore this. Now Wren is sent away from her doomed grandfather, beyond her own world and into the spaces beyond armed with his journals. He hopes she can escape, but more than that, perhaps she may be able to do something to help the people of her world, of the other worlds…


And so we get a wonderful melding of different story types, the science fiction with a hint of Steampunk for the clockwork solar system, the medieval religious mind meeting the early scientific thinking and then the classic young but determined hero (or heroine) being forced onto a dangerous quest. All of this is set up within this first issue, a terrific bit of storytelling from both writer and artist – introducing such a lovely concept for a world (or series of worlds), characters and quest, all within 30 odd pages, but then again as both are used to working with four of five pages in a weekly Brit anthology comics format those are skills in economy of storytelling you have to hone to work well in that format.

I was totally taken with the first runs of Brass Sun in the weekly 2000 AD and am delighted to see it being offered in this new format so more readers get a chance to experience it (same US comic book format as was used for the recent, highly successful Dredd movie sequel tale), and it is also a great way to wave the flag to a wider reading audience for some of the fine works that still come out of the House of Tharg and from our top Brit comics creators. A gorgeous, intoxicating story, beautifully illustrated and carrying us on a tide of wonder. Brass Sun #1 is published late May and is available to pre-order on our comics subscription site.

This pen was originally penned for the Forbidden Planet blog

Review: Hinterkind #1 – well-done post-apocalyptic fantasy

Hinterkind #1

Ian Edginton, Francesco Trifogli,



We click over into October, the leaves are turning, the evening dusk falls more swiftly every night, and we also come to the first wave of this promised autumnal bounty of new titles from DC’s Vertigo imprint that we blogged about some while back. I was quite pleased when DC announced this raft of upcoming Vertigo releases – with the departure of Karen Berger and moving one of the imprint’s most well known (and longest running) characters, John Constantine, to the main DC universe (mostly I’ve not been impressed with that), there was some genuine concern among readers that the much-respected imprint, known for nurturing some of the more unusual works to come out of a mainstream publisher, was about to be done away with, and this new range helped scotch those worries. And the fact that one of the new series was written by one of 2000 AD’s regular (and best) scribes, Ian Edginton, also had me pretty happy.

It’s some (as yet undisclosed) number of years after the end of the world. Or, as the story puts it:

Calling it the end of the world was a conceit. The world kept on ticking just fine, it was humanity that took the hit. Seven months from top of the food chain to endangered species.”

We open Hinterkind with a bloody scene, a crackling radio pleading for a response, but none will come as the people lie dead around it, blood staining the floors. We see only the aftermath, not the deaths, the attacker unseen save for a pair of enormous hands moving a chair by a body… And then we cut to what looks like a scene from the African veld, a zebra munching on grasses looks up alarmed, sensing danger – too late as the young girl, Prosper, who most simply call ‘P’, looses an arrow. As she and her companion Angus step out of concealment to claim their hunting trophy the perspective pulls back and we realise the lush vegetation ends in a concrete wall… Further back to realise this wall is pretty high… Then a page turn brings us to a gorgeous double-page spread of New York after the fall, the skyscrapers of Manhattan decked out and roofed in verdant greenery, reclaimed by nature, now the hunting ground of these youngsters.


It’s a beautiful moment and showcases Trifogli’s art wonderfully, a few scenes and pages effectively telling us much of what we need to know about this world P and Angus are surviving in. Of course it also brings to mind post-apocalyptic movies which have similarly shown our great cities deserted of people and reclaimed by plants and animals (think 12 Monkeys and the big cat hunting the city streets, or the rather mixed I Am Legend). Further ‘wow’ moments follow though – an aerial view of something most of us are familiar with, even if we’ve never been there, glimpsed a thousand times on television and film, Central Park.

Except instead of the oasis of green in a massively built-up city now it is an island of remaining civilisation, a small village and farmland, surrounded by the now overgrown greenery of the city, an inversion of how it is today. Again it is a beautiful piece of artwork, lush and almost charming in an idyllic rural manner, until you remind yourself this isn’t a countryside retreat, this is all that is left of humanity in a city that once was home to millions…


As the kids return to their village with the spoils of the hunt events are being set in motion. The people of the village are the ones who were trying to reach the murdered victims on the radio on the opening page. Their doctor, Asa, P’s grandfather, determines to hike upstate to try and find out what happened. Given they have no idea of the state of the world beyond Manhattan now and that the few other holdouts they had contact with have gone dark his friends oppose this, but he is determined. It’s the right thing to try and help, he explains, plus it is in their best interests to learn why these other spots of humanity have gone silent.

Meanwhile P learns something about Angus, a new development he has kept secret and which may drive him out of their small enclave. And any trip outside is full of dangers, with humans now likely to be hunted by other big predators, just like their far distant primitive ancestors were. But there are even more dangerous and disturbing things than tigers freed from zoos or collections roaming the land now… And on that point I will say no more as I don’t want to spoil it (suffice to say the duo deliver something disturbing and intriguing and horrific).


I thought this was a splendid first issue, Edginton and Trifolgi, partaking of both that long-running post-apocalypse strand of science fiction that has endured for pretty much as long as the genre has, as well as often having a distinctly fairy tale feel and look to some of it. Although I say fairy tale here in the nature of the older fairy tales, before they were cleaned up and sanitised for young children’s picture books – this is more like the original tales those derived from, with wonders but also hidden horrors and dark threats. This first issue is extra-sized which allowed for a little more room to introduce characters and set-up, which benefits the series hugely. Edginton and Trifogli make use of this to do a beautifully worked out introduction to this world, using skill and economy, the right few words with the right few pictures, rather than any huge info-dump exposition that some may have resorted to, relying on their skill and the reader’s own imagination to build that devastated world in their mind. Terrific stuff – I’ll certainly be picking up the rest of this series. Fingers crossed the other upcoming Vertigo titles this autumn impress as much as Hinterkind.

this review was originally penned for the Forbidden Planet blog