The first American King — Key Ideas to Explore

A Narrator Who Leans In

The narrative voice in The First American King frequently addresses the reader with knowing asides, creating a tone of shared confidence. When describing Dr. Belden's establishment, the narrator adds that the harbor was 'not infrequently visited, in popular parlance, by “swells” and “high-rollers.”' The quotation marks around those terms signal a playful distance, as if the narrator is translating high-society slang for a less worldly audience. Later, when Kearns reluctantly concedes he cannot be the airship's second passenger, the text says he did so 'Sadly and with woebegone mien'—a phrase that is both formal and faintly comic. This oscillation between elevated diction and colloquial nudges suggests a narrator who is amused by the very world he describes, and who invites the reader to share that amusement.

The Airship as a Test of Secrecy

The construction of Professor Dean's airship—dubbed 'The Royal Dean' by Kearns—is described in terms of elaborate concealment. Its parts were 'manufactured with much secrecy at one of the royal dockyards,' then assembled in a 'secluded portion of the country.' Only three workmen knew the full nature of the project, and they were 'very securely taken care of for the present.' The language here is deliberately vague: 'taken care of' could imply protection or imprisonment, and the narrator does not clarify. This ambiguity extends to the installation at the Summer Palace, where a bay window is modified 'so as to permit of the ready exit of the airship.' The focus on logistical detail—the waning moon, the three nights left, the need for compactness—grounds the fantastical invention in a world of practical constraints. The airship is not merely a marvel; it is a puzzle of timing and trust.

Dialogue That Reveals Hierarchy

Though the excerpts offer limited direct dialogue, the reported speech and indirect discourse reveal a clear social order. Kearns, the apparent mastermind, 'gave the word' for the royal return, and the King and Queen comply. When selecting the airship's second passenger, Kearns and the Professor 'cast about them' and settle on Captain Stanley Mortimer, then a substitute, Captain Ralph Swords. The officers 'eagerly consented' under 'strictest promise of secrecy.' The language of command and consent is precise: Kearns 'consented' to the choice, and the captains are bound until 'relieved from their respective promises by Mr. Kearns.' This careful delineation of who gives orders and who follows them underscores the novel's interest in authority—both legitimate and conspiratorial.

The Weight of Existing Conditions

A recurring concern in the excerpts is the characters' need to navigate 'existing conditions and customs.' Kearns, a man who 'had only recently excited the risibilities and the wonderment of rustics by inquiring for a horse and carriage,' is deemed unfit for the airship mission because he lacks familiarity with the present-day world. The text insists that the second passenger must be 'a man familiar with existing conditions—a man of authority, of resource and of courage.' This emphasis on practical knowledge over technical skill suggests that the novel's speculative premise—a monarchy in America—is less important than the social and political realities that persist within it. The airship may be new, but the hierarchies and habits of the old world remain firmly in place.

Readers approaching The First American King should attend to the narrator's tone—half confidant, half ironist—and to the way Hastings uses physical details (a sanatorium, a modified window, a waning moon) to anchor his speculative plot. The novel's interest lies less in the airship itself than in the human maneuvering around it: who knows what, who gives orders, and who is left behind. The excerpts suggest a story that is as much about the mechanics of secrecy as about the mechanics of flight.

After finishing the notes on that 1904 airship monarchy, I kept circling back to how much the author's quiet word choices mattered—the way tone shapes a whole hidden world. It reminded me of sitting with Blank? — Story, Setting & Ideas, where the atmosphere lingers long after you've closed it. That same gentle pull stays with me, like a half-remembered conversation.