Truth be told, counterfactual history novels are about a dime a dozen.

Anyone who wants to write a speculative fiction story but can’t be bothered to cook up a new setting can just ask the question, “What if the Nazis developed space flight?” or something similar.

We’re all looking at you, “Iron Sky.”

Most of the books I’ve run into stick to World War II for their counterfactuals. One series I bumped into on accident decided to go a bit further back, re-imagining World War I as something a little less trench-y.

Scott Westerfeld’s “Leviathan” tells the tale of a very different Europe, one divided between the Darwinist (Russia, France, Britain) and the Clankers (Austria-Hungary, Germany, the Ottoman Empire).

Darwinist countries enjoy the benefit of the theories of Charles Darwin, except that instead of proposing evolution and ending his career, the old Englishman went on to pioneer genetic engineering and gene splicing. Fabricated beasts took over for any form of mechanical service—modified elephants and oxen for cars, talking gecko/parrots replace phones, in spite of how impractical a courier is compared to instantaneous communication.

Clanker countries are, to borrow a term, basically steampunk. They believe in steam-powered everything, resulting in systems that are a lot more complicated than is strictly practical, but at least they aren’t using those godless fabricated beasts. Or at least that’s how the thought process goes whenever you actually hear a Clanker object to them in more than the “Help, it’s eating my face!” kind of way.

Is the entire setup just a cheesy excuse to pit steam-powered robots against mutant bears?

Probably.

But as I’ve established, I’m kind of a sucker for the stupid-but-awesome.

The story itself follows two characters—Prince Aleksandar of Austria, bastard heir to the Archduke. His plot mostly has to do with being in disguise and struggling to avert the “useless royal” trope as much as he can as he and his supporters flee from the political fallout of his father’s assassination.

Our other participant is Deryn Sharp, a plucky English girl who just wants to fly. In pursuit of this, she disguises herself as her fictitious cousin Dylan and joins the military, getting assigned to the flying warship Leviathan.

By the halfway point of the book we have two characters lying about their identity, several more lying about their intentions and everybody is just sort of jammed together in a flying mutant whale on a trip to Turkey. Needless to say, things get complicated.

Probably the most jarring thing about the story as a whole is how Westerfeld portrays the factions. He adheres very closely to realistic physical limits with the Clankers, demonstrating how hydraulic walkers are a painfully unwieldy way to accomplish anything.

They rely heavily on robust supply lines to keep the walkers fueled and in good repair, something that the cast exploits many times to their advantage.

Meanwhile, the Darwinists’ mutants are perfectly-behaved perpetual motion machines capable of recycling their own waste for nourishment and retaining the British stiff upper lip even when half the ship is on fire and anything without higher brain functions (and several of those who do) ought to be panicking.

On top of that, anybody who works with livestock can tell you that keeping that many creatures fed and stabled properly is a logistical nightmare.

For the grief I gave Westerfeld for a silly-sounding premise, the man certainly did his research. He name-drops historical figures left and right, including the ones that you don’t get in 8th grade history, and has a firm handle on the politics of the era. The book dedicates a couple of pages at the back to him explaining what happened, what he changed and why. It’s all very enlightening, truth be told.

So, is “Leviathan” worth the time? It’s young adult fiction and it shows, but is certainly a treat for history buffs. For everyone else, well, there are land battleships and bats that poop spikes. I don’t know what else I can say to indicate that this is a bizarrely entertaining read.