Available From UC Press

In 1900, Paris had no skyscrapers, no tourist helicopters, no drones. Yet well before aviation made aerial views more accessible, those who sought such vantages had countless options available to them. They could take in the vista from an observation ride, see a painting of the view from Notre-Dame, or overlook a miniature model city. In Aeroscopics, Patrick Ellis offers a history of the view from above, written from below. Richly illustrated and premised upon extensive archival work, this interdisciplinary study reveals the forgotten media available to the public in the Balloon Era and after. Ellis resurrects these neglected spectacles as “aeroscopics,” opening up new possibilities for the history of aerial vision.

"Aeroscopics is a first and final word on the aerial imagination in modern times. In both manner and matter, the book inspires and elevates.”—Tom Conley, Lowell Professor, Film and Visual Studies, Harvard University 

"Uncovering its forgotten history, this fascinating book draws out the popular, playful, dizzying, and oscillating perspectives made possible by the aerial gaze. Both rigorous and engaging, Aeroscopics gives us fresh ways of understanding the conceptual and visceral experiences of vertical space. This is media archaeology at its best."—Isabelle McNeill, Lecturer in French and Film at Trinity Hall, University of Cambridge

"Skillfully treading along the boundaries of mapping, art, and media studies, Aeroscopics is a revelation and a genuine delight to read."—James Akerman, Director of the Hermon Dunlap Smith Center for the History of Cartography and Curator of Maps at the Newberry Library

"A soaring, brilliant account of the various media that have provided aerial views and a sterling example of media archaeology, Aeroscopics brings rigor and imagination to the task of seeing old technologies when they were new. Dizzyingly original, Patrick Ellis’s account complements the recent emphasis on drones and the militarized aerial view, uncovering a tradition in which the 'compass of knowledge tilts from observation to intoxication.'—Oliver Gaycken, University of Maryland, College Park