Terry Pratchett's Discworld 25- The Truth

The Truth

Victor Gollancz

Terry Pratchett

2000

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- Colour of Magic - Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords & Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Jingo - Last Continent - Carpe Jugulum - Fifth Elephant - Truth - Raising Steam - Blink of the Screen - Sky Adaptations  - Video Game 1 - Pratchett Portfolio - Dodger - Long Earth

"WHO KNOWS WHAT EVIL LURKS IN THE HEART OF MEN? The Death of Rats looked up from the feast of potato. SQUEAK, he said. Death waved a hand dismissively. WELL, YES, OBVIOUSLY ME, he said. I JUST WONDERED IF THERE WAS ANYONE ELSE."

After the personal disappointment of The Fifth Elephant, where the sinister political machinations of the dwarves conspired only to put me to sleep, we move on to the twenty-fifth book in the series and a novel which more successfully promotes a different type of world-building. Although I seem to be saying this with each review for various reasons, this is another personal landmark in my own journey through the Discworld series; marking the very first time I purchased one as a newly-released hardback- using my own hard-earned (well, sort of) cash from my first ever real job. I remember the pride and joy I felt as I added the luxurious, beautifully-covered tome to my collection (otherwise comprised of well-worn paperbacks), with the hope of many more to come. Now I look at the ridiculously over-sized damned things and think about somehow trading them in for paperback versions, lest my bookshelf collapse. The folly of youth, etc.

So then, as I was saying, The Truth is one of the most direct examples of Pratchett performing an important new piece of world building; creating his own version of an ubiquitous human standard to not only directly add a new feature to the daily lives of Ankh-Morpork's fair citizens but also to signify a permanent shift in his future portrayals of the Disc's chief city. Through the events of this novel and many more to follow, the city moves forward from its origins as a kind of mishmash of medieval-to-seventeenth century England, and hurtles towards a more progressive mish-mash of eighteenth century and Victorian England. This time out a young man named William de Worde takes the city by storm by unwittingly inventing the newspaper industry.

As has been mentioned before here, the key essence to the transformation is Pratchett's determination to add further order and stability to a previously chaotic environment, something he started doing as far back as Guards! Guards! with the rebirth of the city watch. The concept of a daily newspaper is an obvious one in hindsight, and offers Pratchett a number of ways to incorporate his typical satire and parody, the former emanating from his own experiences as a journalist. Pratchett comes up with an original core cast of characters (with supporting aid from some of the usual suspects, of course including Sam Vimes), led by de Worde, himself the bored and ingenious son of a nobleman looking to shake things up for himself.

de Worde seems most likely a prototype character for the more successful later creation of Moist von Lipvig (of Going Postal, Making Money and Raising Steam fame), but one who unfortunately lacks the interesting backstory and lovable roguishness of Moist, and therefore the overall charisma to go with it. His inevitable love-interest comes in the form of investigative reporter Sacharissa Crisplock, while the comic relief is supplied by vampire photographer Otto von Chieck, who has the unfortunate habit of disintegrating into dust every time he uses the flash function. Together they create The Ankh-Morpork Times, and a selection  of new enemies to go with it.

Though the characters seemingly didn't have enough interest in them to justify a reoccurring position in the Discworld series as Moist later did, they fit the story of this book well enough, as somewhat hapless idealists who stumble into more trouble than they'd anticipated when they discover a plot to frame the Patrician for murder. Switching back and forth neatly between the corrupt wealthy gentry of the city and their vicious musclemen on the street helps put the city in a nice new perspective, and lets Pratchett have a ton of fun with the gangsters and hoodlums motif, notable parodying Pulp Fiction on numerous occasions amongst other things. Against all odds William and co. manage to delve to the truth of the matter, uncover the sinister plot, then ride off into the background of the city, rarely to be mentioned again.

Perhaps The Truth looks that much better to me in direct comparison to The Fifth Elephant, where the condensed scale of the events and unassuming, sometimes idiotic characters were a pleasant relief. Pratchett's increasing tendency to  make far too many of his characters incessantly wise can sometimes go too far in hurting his books, and so I'm always more of a fan of his dumber characters (after all, the success of the Discworld series was based on the general idiocy of its most popular character in Rincewind). The fairly simple nature of the plot doesn't hurt it at all, since Pratchett's witty and evocative depictions of Ankh-Morpork from the viewpoint of a reporter make up for that.

Overall then, a funny, compelling page-turner with fresh characters that doesn't do anything ground-breaking by itself but does represent a further shift in scenery. It also sits nicely as a refreshing breather for Discworld fans, sat in-between the annoyingly concrete political shifting of Fifth Elephant and upcoming apocalyptic high-fantasy of The Thief of Time- of course the subject of our next Discworld review, and Death's final leading role.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 23- Carpe Jugulum

Carpe Jugulum

Victor Gollancz

Terry Pratchett

1998

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- The Colour of Magic - The Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords and Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Jingo - The Last Continent - Raising Steam - A Blink of the Screen - Sky1 Adaptations - Dodger - The Long Earth (w Stephen Baxter)

“I never understood that story, anyway,” said Nanny. “I mean, if I knew I’d got a heel that would kill me if someone stuck a spear in it, I’d go into battle wearing very heavy boots—”

I used to love Carpe Jugulum for a while, more so than any other Discworld novel (aside from Small Gods). It was first published during the time I was still frantically reading through Pratchett's back catalogue, and though I'd yet to reach the financial freedom of buying each new hardback on release, each new paperback release was very exciting for this series with a mere twenty-two installments so far. Fast-forward to the present day, and I just don't get particularly excited about new Pratchett books like I once did. His output has massively increased over the past few years as he takes advantage of what might be the end of his writing career, and I've not been able to catch up. These days I actually resent the thought of buying new hardback books, since they take up so much damned space.

Carpe Jugulum, with its typically fantastic illustrated cover by Josh Kirby (one of his final Discworld covers before his death in 2001, sadly), was a big deal to me back in 1999. It would've been an even bigger deal had I realised at the time that this, like The Last Continent prior, was a landmark character book. As Continent was the last proper Rincewind book, Carpe Jugulum (topically 'size the throat') is the final 'proper' novel for an equally important selection of characters; the Witches. The expanded (after the events of Maskerade) coven of Macbeth-inspired ladies had been involved in perhaps the most high-octane adventures in the series, saving the tiny, magic-fueled kingdom of Lancre  (and the world) from false monarchs, evil witches, even more evil elves, and Andrew Lloyd-Webber. For this, their final adventure together, Pratchett serves up their deadliest villains yet; vampires.

The vampires of the Disc are strong, vicious, and with minds of steel. The problems begin when King Verence invites (his first mistake) the Magpyr vampire family of Uberwald to Lancre as guests, and they promptly and efficiently go about taking over the castle through traditional vampire mind control. Not even Granny Weatherwax can fight the unbending power of the vampire mind, leaving the kingdom seemingly powerless to resist. It's a very straightforward plot by the author's standards, which is the key reason that, in hindsight, I don't view the novel as a Discworld classic anymore. The framework is strikingly similar to the earlier Witches book Lords and Ladies, suggesting it's likely that Pratchett's choice to give up on the Witches series-within-a-series was due to his boredom with the characters, resulting in the recycled ambiance.

“I mean, it's one thing saying you've got the best god, but sayin' it's the only real one is a bit of a cheek, in my opinion. I know where I can find at least two any day of the week. And they say everyone starts out bad and only gets good by believin' in Om, which is frankly damn nonsense.” 

The vampires are interesting creatures though, since Pratchett uses his to satirise the various portrayals of them through the history of pop culture. The parents of the Magpyr's are very traditional figures, with Vlad Magpyr a Bela Lugosi-style Dracula archetype, while the youth are far more inspired by early-to-mid 90's vampire portrayals, with dollops of angst and style in equal measure. Pratchett plays with this very specific generation gap for humour wonderfully, bringing to the forefront of the novel the newest addition to the coven, the very overweight and unconfident Agnes Nitt (originally of Maskerade) to represent everything about humanity that the vampire is not. While the two younger Vampyre's are faintly ridiculous, Count Vlad is not, and the intensity of his battle of wills with Granny Weatherwax provides the real tension behind everything. Pratchett usually tries to keep the full extent of his characters' various powers a mystery, avoiding the temptation for a narrative arms race and ruining the aura, but the events of Carpe Jugulum are an exception to that.

In conclusion then, I find Carpe Jugulum one of the easiest Discworld books to pick up and race through, thanks to the direct plot and immediately recognisable pop culture parodies. As a final Witches book it suffers through a lack of ingenuity compared to, say, Witches Abroad, but makes up for a certain amount of that through the intensity of the action. It's certainly a blockbuster, lacking some finesse but giving Pratchett the chance to give his final words on a segment of horror culture that almost everything has already been said about. When I was sixteen-years-old and constantly watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, this was the book for me. It's lost sparkle in the proceeding years, but it's still a fun interrogation of vampire tropes with danger and charm. It's just a shame the next Discworld book, one with very similar themes, won't be getting such a favourable review.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 22- The Last Continent

The Last Continent

Corgi Press

Terry Pratchett

1998

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- The Colour of Magic - The Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords and Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Jingo - Raising Steam - A Blink of the Screen - Sky1 Adaptations- Dodger - The Long Earth (w Stephen Baxter)

“Any true wizard, faced with a sign like 'Do not open this door. Really. We mean it. We're not kidding. Opening this door will mean the end of the universe,' would automatically open the door in order to see what all the fuss is about. This made signs rather a waste of time, but at least it meant that when you handed what was left of the wizard to his grieving relatives you could say, as they grasped the jar, 'We told him not to.”  

After sending the Ankh-Morpork City Watch on some rip-roaring adventures in the exotic foreign lands of Klatch in Jingo, Terry Pratchett returned to a rather more familiar tour guide for his next expansive book. The Last Continent is by definition a landmark book in the Discworld series for being ostensibly the final installment to feature the series' original lead character as the headline attraction. In his sixth starring role, following The Colour of Magic, The Light Fantastic, Sourcery, Eric and Interesting Times, Rincewind the Wizzard sets off on his most mysterious journey yet as he fights to survive the madness of the magical continent XXXX (or Fourecks), where time and space are but mere unfinished constructs in a land that the creator hasn't quite got around to finishing yet.

Having been accidentally magically transported to Fourecks at the end of Interesting Times, Rincewind has been rather busy trying to avoid the million things trying to kill him. Back in Ankh-Morpork at Unseen University, meanwhile, the simian librarian is mysteriously ill and therefore unable to keep control of the chaotic magical library books. The wizarding faculty propose a magical cure, but unfortunately none of them know what the librarian's real name is, which is essential for it to work. The only wizard who does know is, of course, Rincewind. The wizards' attempts to track Rincewind down do indeed lead them to the isolate continent of Fourecks, but inconveniently manage to get there several million years in the past, interrupting a literal creation myth that's also connected to Rincewind's plight.

The Last Continent is a very well-balanced mix of satire and fantasy that I consider the best Discworld book since the. last Rincewind one, Interesting Times. Pratchett's integration of a classic British humour (taking from Monty Python and Douglas Adams in style and imagination) with an ambitious, Neil Gaiman-like tale of magical creationism plays entirely to his and the Discworld series' strengths. Rincewind and the University faculty share the page count fairly equally (or so it feels), allowing Pratchett to split his satire based on the time differential, with Rincewind coming into contact with contemporary Australian stereotypes and send-ups while the university wizards experience Pratchett's take on aboriginal creation myths.

If there's one real criticism to aim at The Last Continent, it would be that the direction and development of the plot ultimately relies heavily on the crutch that magic explains everything. As a result Pratchett doesn't really rely on a winding, conspiratorial plot as he often does, but instead pushes his characters into increasingly strange and mystical situations that eventually sort themselves out. With that in mind I wouldn't classify this as one of Pratchett's best books, but it sits comfortably on the shelf underneath. It returns to the classic Rincewind style of running from one dangerous encounter to another, like a series of connected sketches (similar to Python's Life of Brian, it strikes me). The wizards are an endearing collection of characters, if not as good as Rincewind, and the completely unique (yet to be revisited, at least) setting of Fourecks distinctly separates this from every other Discworld book.

As Rincewind's final starring role, it's a good one. I specifically say 'starring role' rather than appearance though, since the world's worst wizzard still crops up occasionally for cameos; and that's without even mentioning his crucial supporting role in the epic illustrated Discworld blockbuster book The Last Hero, which I shall some day here be fawning over.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 21- Jingo

Jingo

Corgi Press

Terry Pratchett

1997

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- The Colour of Magic - The Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords and Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Raising Steam - A Blink of the Screen - Sky1 Adaptations- Dodger - The Long Earth (w Stephen Baxter)

“Give a man a fire and he's warm for a day, but set fire to him and he's warm for the rest of his life.”

From an author in possession of such a wide fictional universe starring a cast of literally hundreds of lovingly-crafted characters, it seems a bit of a surprise to this reader, looking at the series in hindsight, that only two books and one year after the publication of the last book staring the City Watch, Pratchett would so quickly return to that same cast of characters for the twenty-first installment of the main Discworld series. The last Watch book, Feet of Clay, was very good, but inevitably suffered in comparison to the two Watch books that proceeded it, Guards! Guards! and Men at Arms; two of the very best things Terry Pratchett has ever written, in my opinion, setting somewhat impossibly high standards to replicate in the face of inevitable diminishing returns. That leads us, then, to Jingo, a very curious, often overlooked little Discworld book all about the silliness of over-zealous patriotism and, of course, jingoism. 

As a bit of an aside, Jingo was, following Hogfather, one of the first Discworld books I can remember reading, and I'm fairly sure I was bought a hardback edition as a Christmas present not long after its publication (along with a copy of Wyrd Sisters). It came with a fairly dull cover, where the (as-always) superb art of sadly missed cover artist extraordinaire Josh Kirby is squashed into the middle to make room for two massive frames of block colour for the book and author title. This was the style of the things at the time, but the unrestricted paperback covers- even the tatty second-hand editions I'd been cheaply buying- put them to shame, and as a result I think in my eyes Jingo was rather stigmatised amongst my collection at the time. Not exactly insightful reviewing here, I know, but I do feel like I'm still trying to work out why Jingo feels oddly uninteresting despite containing all the ingredients for a roaring adventure novel.

Regarding the plot Jingo is a not particularly straightforward tale of international espionage mixed in with Pratchett's typical interpretation of character based detective fiction, and it begins with the raising of an island. The formerly submerged hunk of rock known as Leshp just happened to emerge right in the middle of the Circle Sea that separates the states of the very familiar Ankh-Morpork and the dreadfully foreign Klatch. This and an assassination attempt on the life of a Klatchian Prince visiting Ankh-Morpork leads to the declaration of war. Ankh-Morpork is thrown into political turmoil that leads to the Patrician, Lord Vetinari resigning his post, quickly followed by Sam Vimes and the entire City Watch. Vimes turns the watch into his own private army (since he's technically been a powerful posh nob for quite a while now), and marches them off to Klatch to sort things out (and rescue Sgt. Angua, who was unhelpfully kidnapped). The Patrician, meanwhile, secretly enlists the genius of Leonard da Quirm (inventor of the submarine, don't you know) and the idiocy of Fred Colon and Nobby Nobs, and sets off with them to uncover the mystery of the odd new landmark.

That's a pretty interesting set-up, now I've been forced to explain it, made even more interesting in theory through its potential to take a good look at another part of the Discworld that's often been referred to but rarely been visited. Throughout the series prior, Klatch had been a reference point for anything foreign enough to be vaguely disconcerting for Morporkians, in a clear jab at the jingoistic trends of certain Britons. In this aptly-named novel Pratchett brings Klatch to life properly for the first time (aside from a few passages in Sourcery, I suppose) and presents it as a hybrid of French, Spanish and Middle Eastern aspects, with the focus on anything that's not quite paled skinned or following a familiar religion. The citizens of Ankh-Morpork without the guidance of Vetinari and the Watch are now very much against this sort of thing. It's a decent, if not quite spectacular set-up, but unfortunately one that I didn't feel really goes anywhere interesting.

I think the problem I had with the way the plot unfolds is that it feels so very obvious and predictable, without offering any particular highlights to make it seem more interesting overall. Completely inevitably when the Watch infiltrate Klatch and then meet the locals and their Klatchian police counterparts they all start to get on quite fabulously and quickly find out that they're not so different after all. Vimes and Klatch Vimes (alright, 71-hour Ahmed is his name) get to the bottom of the assassination attempt and find a couple of obvious suspects from both countries conspiring to profit from war, meaning it's not really anyone's fault. Vetinari and co, who were easily the most entertaining part of the novel through their oddball comedy, meanwhile discover that the tactical advantage posed by Leshp isn't as great as it seems, all of which leads to a climactic scene where Vetinari steps in to stop the hostilities with a moment of ingenuity, after which they all get their old jobs back. Coming away from the book, the underlying themes of xenophobia had been completely outdone by Vetinari's tactical masterstroke, ending the book on that impression rather than what Pratchett was really aiming for.

I suppose the problem was for me that Pratchett was preaching to the choir, and doing so without any particular stroke of ingenious. The threat of war as a huge, impaction storyline for the Discworld series never comes to fruition, and the transformation of the Watch into a private army didn't sit well for me, obviously it was only temporary but it didn't feel like a natural extension the organic growth that the characters had previously enjoyed, instead feeling far more like just another episode in their whacky lives. On the other hand there's nothing in this book that's outrageously bad, and the potentially blockbuster set-up kicks it off well, but the general unwillingness of Pratchett to really mix anything up with resonating storylines (such as the death of an important character, for example) left this book stagnating in the back of my mind as the very definition of a forgettable Discworld book. There aren't even any memorable new characters in the mix, adding really nothing to the Discworld's legacy apart from enhancing Vetinari's reputation as the most mysterious and genius character in the series. What I wouldn't give for Pratchett to write a definitive backstory novel for that character, but I very much doubt he ever will. Oh well. Anyway that's enough for Jingo, the most forgettable of all the Discworld novels, but still better than the next Watch book I'll be reviewing, so watch out.

Josh Kirby

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 20- Hogfather

Hogfather

Corgi Press

 Terry Pratchett

1996

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- The Colour of Magic - The Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords and Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Raising Steam - A Blink of the Screen - Sky1 Adaptations- Dodger - The Long Earth (w Stephen Baxter)

“Some things are fairly obvious when it's a seven-foot skeleton with a scythe telling you them”

After a break from the Discworld series following my first review of a new installment with Raising Steam, I return to my crawling series of reviews, half-way through the series- unless you count the many, many spin-offs, which I may or may not get around to reviewing some day- it's time to tackle a very strange, ambitious and  curious book that means a lot to this reader on a personal level. Terry Pratchett's twentieth Discworld novel was the very first novel set in that universe that I'd ever read, leading me down a path of hundreds of hours spent reading and re-reading the series. It wasn't the first Pratchett book I'd read, that distinction belongs to Truckers, the first of the classic children's series The Bromeliad Trilogy (to be reviewed on this blog in the year 2053). 

As I've ruminated before, in hindsight it was an awkward choice of Discworld book to begin with, but I did so since it was the newest Pratchett paperback (purchased from the long departed and sorely missed Paperback Exchange bookshop, where I bought the sixth Harry Potter book at midnight because I'm so cool). Hogfather is the fourth book starring Death, although 'starring' is a bit of a misnomer since all of the Death books have a co-star with equal or greater page time, presumably to prevent over-exposure of quite a unique character. The theme of the book, and thus main target of satire, is Christmas, the jolliest season of them all. On the Disc, Christmas is Hogwatch, and Santa is the Hogfather, a magic-fueled anthropomorphic personification who brings children presents on Hogswatchnight. Basing Hogswatch on the old European pagan origins of Christmas was a natural fit for the series, but Pratchett travels further in the exploration of the higher orders of the Discworld universe in the manner of his old writing partner Neil Gaiman.

The problems that drag Pratchett's grim reaper into the messy business of Hogswatch begin when a very off-beat psychopathic assassin named Teatime is hired by a mysterious cloaked bunch calling themselves the Auditors of Reality, specifically to kill a being many would assume unkillable. Putting his ingenious mind to the task, Teatime actually manages to make the Hogfather disappear (his method involves the tooth fairy), leaving a round-shaped hole, quickly sort-of filled by the very, very thin figure of one Mr. Death. It's from here that the story begins to unfold, with the involvement of the returning granddaughter of Death, Susan Sto Helit, who has to try and figure out why the magical rules governing reality on the Disc have gone haywire, and why her Grandad is suddenly wearing lots of red.

Pratchett's past Death books have each ventured into high concept fantasy to an extent none of his other characters do, with Mort, Reaper Man and Soul Music all exploring the notion of anthropomorphism powered by magic, while peeling back the curtain very slightly to hint at other even more potent characters than Death woven into the background of this unpredictable universe. In Hogfather, Pratchett brings back the aforementioned Auditors of Reality (who played an important but small role in Reaper Man) and straightforwardly makes them the villains of the piece. These Auditors seemingly have the power to do anything but have to play by unspecified rules, thus resulting in their plan to have Teatime kill the Hogfather. I really like the Auditor characters because they so brilliantly play into the fantasy and satire aspects of Pratchett's writing, with the former as these Gaiman-esque all-powerful all-secretive universal powers but the latter as a not so subtle jab at bureaucracy and bureaucrats in general, leading to some laugh out loud stuff.

There are quite a few characters involved in Hogfather, to the point where it looks like it might fall apart under the weight of so many character arcs, which in addition to those already mentioned include Teatime's gang, The Wizards of Unseen University and Billious the' Oh God' of Hangovers. In places it does become messy, until Pratchett clears the deck just before the end to focus on the meaning of the thing, which is essentially about the right to free will and the power of belief. I do think that the furious pace of new ideas Pratchett throws into the fantasy mix does take the focus away from the key appeal of Death's developing humanisation to fans of the series, and in hindsight I'm surprised but pleased that none of these factors originally put me off from continuing to pursue the Discworld. In regards to the 2006 adaptation broadcast on Sky One (vaguely written about here) I would've guessed that the prior mythology would also unconverted fans off, but the two non-readers I've seen it with both really enjoyed it, so what do I know?

While overall I don't think Hogfather should be considered amongst the author's very best pieces of writing, it is a remarkable achievement in that of an author juggling some very awkward (and in some ways insane) variables and fusing them into a cohesive and very imaginative story. Pratchett stretches the magical limits of his universe to the full, something I always enjoy, to create a thematic widescreen blockbuster that emphasises the darker, creepier aspects of Christmas and fuses them to his organically growing creation. Roughly 14(!) years ago it blew my mind, opening up to new possibilities in fiction I'd never imagined, and crucially helping to shape my own ideas of what good literature should be. It was the start of a personal adventure that hasn't ended yet, with an author who I will always feel grateful to for literally changing my life from then on, for showing me how satire, obviously but brilliantly, can just make everything seem really very funny.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 40- Raising Steam

Raising Steam

Doubleday

 Terry Pratchett

2013

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- The Colour of Magic - The Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords and Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Raising Steam - A Blink of the Screen - Sky1 Adaptations- Dodger - The Long Earth (w Stephen Baxter)

“The aristocrats, if such they could be called, generally hated the whole concept of the train on the basis that it would encourage the lower classes to move about and not always be available.”

After somehow reaching the mid-way point (well, almost) of this little blog's travels through Terry Pratchett's epic Discworld series with Feet of Clay, I now have both the pleasure and discomfort of reviewing a new (six months old, basically new by this blogs' standards) installment for the very first time. The pleasure of course comes from my familiarity with the universe and this chance to analyse the progression of Pratchett's most contemporary ideas yet. The discomfort comes from the knowing itch in the back of my brain that's preparing me to start negatively criticising it, despite the solid fact that this is bound to annoy the majority of the people reading this and put them off ever coming to this site again. Let's preface that by saying that overall I did like it, just not as much as I wanted to.

Bringing back one of his more successful later additions to the reoccurring Discworld cast, professional swindler-turned-involuntary civil servant Moist von Lipvig of Going Postal and Making Money was a safe bet, thematically fitting perfectly with the ongoing development of the city of Ankh-Morpork. Furthermore in that respect I think Raising Steam could actually be considered a landmark novel, where the fruits of Pratchett's labour over the past ten years in pushing his fictional universe forwards technologically and philosophically come to pass with the advent of the Discworld's first railway system.

 

When a young engineering genius named Dick Simnel from the backwaters of Sto Lat brings his mastery of steam to the big lights of Ankh-Morpork, it quickly catches the eye of the city Patrician who quickly reognises the potential of the invention and places Moist in charge of its development. The idea of the railway takes the city by storm, leading to an ensemble cast of previous Morporkian characters taking supporting roles (including, of course, the ubiquitous Commander Vimes) in the excitement. Pratchett makes full use of the rich history of his own writing on almost every level, taking important plot points from recent novels like Snuff and Thud! to continue the themes of repression and equality amongst the various intelligent fantasy species of the Disc, particularly the trolls, dwarves and goblins; not something that greatly appeals to me these days I'm afraid, thanks to my disappointment with the aforementioned recent novels.

In contrast, very much appealing to me were unexpected references to other, less topical Discworld characters from legends such as Rincewind, to more surprising characters like Lu-Tze (of Small Gods & Thief of Time) and Queen Keli (Mort). I loved each and every one of these mentions, particularly early on. In fact, for the first third of the book I was very optimistic that it was going somewhere interesting, but as it progressed I became less and less of a fan due to the general direction and style that Pratchett seemed to be settling into, all of which culminated in my growing disinterest.

The real problem I had with Raising Steam, the problem relegating the book in my estimation from an interesting, progressive and worthy fortieth installment in this longest of long running series to a faltering, just-another edition really became apparent later on in the book as the direction of the plot and characters became clearer. Moist remains the main character throughout, but the main supporting (and returning) characters of Vimes, the Patrician and Harry King are heavily involved as Pratchett expands his plot from just being about the invention of the steam engine to connect with the themes of recent books regarding the wars between trolls and dwarves, and of more specific social issues in their societies.

 First of all, the selection of strong, independent and incessantly wise characters surrounding Moist (who has already been well established as a rogue genius) may sound like a fun idea on paper but in practice became very annoying to me after half the book; the constant words of wit and wisdom from so many characters; seemingly ending every conversation with something uniquely smart and analytical became quite irritating and overbearing. Stylistically I found it to have a huge effect on the book, leaving it feeling unbalanced through its selection of characters with large personalities all fighting for page space while remaining as wise and sharp as possible. It's even more pronounced when it becomes clear that new character Simnel also happens to be a straight-talking sage, as opposed to the many naive and terrified eventual heroes of past coming-of-age themed Discworld stories.

It also really didn't help me that I haven't been interested in the slowly progressing development of the dwarfs thing that Pratchett's been advancing since The Fifth Elephant way back in 1999. I've just always found it mostly dull I'm afraid, not the sort of thing I want from my Pratchett books. I suppose these past twenty or so reviews I've put together show that I'm far more interested in the coming-of-age stories revolving around the fantasy aspect- kind of odd that I'm not normally a fan of traditional fantasy literature, but then the genre is so widespread in so many aspects of popular culture that I suppose I actually am- rather than this straightforward attempt by the creator to seemingly move the core of the universe forward from a sort of mishmash of medieval and renaissance aspects into a Victorian industrial revolution. I say use the word 'core' because we're just talking about Ankh-Morpork, leaving a fuller world surrounding it.

On that note, while I was ultimately disappointed with Raising Steam overall I'm still a big fan of the Discworld universe and the work of Terry Pratchett. Maybe it's unlikely these days that he's going to fulfill my personal wishes for future books exploring and expanding the ethereal, magical aspects of the world but I'll still be picking up each new book in the series for as long as he keeps doing them.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 19- Feet of Clay

Feet of Clay

Corgi

Terry Pratchett

1996

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- The Colour of Magic - The Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords and Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Raising Steam - A Blink of the Screen - Sky1 Adaptations- Dodger - The Long Earth (w Stephen Baxter)

"It was Carrot who'd suggested to the Patrician that hardened criminals should be given the chance to "serve the community" by redecorating the homes of the elderly, lending a new terror to old age and, given Ankh-Morpork's crime rate, leading to at least one old lady having her front room wallpapered so many times in six months that now she could only get in sideways."

Back when I started reading Discworld books for the first time, Feet of Clay was one of the newer installments, and to me that somehow made it seem more exciting. I think I hadn't fully settled with the now-inescapable notion that Terry Pratchett's long-running series wasn't the type to concern itself with long-running, over-arching plots across multiple books, and that instead the franchise was a highly-developed  framework in which Pratchett could indulge his talent and love for satire, parody and pure storytelling with the added benefit of established characters now-guaranteed to sell a copy or two. The permanent changes in circumstances that did exist for his favourite characters (such as the introduction of Agnes Nitt to the Witches group in Maskerade) occured solely to allow Pratchett to reshuffle the deck somewhat to keep things fresh and align the universe in the direction of his philosophy. 

A boring black cover.

I mention all of this because it strikes me that Feet of Clay marks a point where things shift somewhat, where the creator of the Discworld became more embroiled in the development of his fictional universe and all of its minutia than ever before, to the extent that such world-building unfortunately (for me and my tastes) diminished the sense of wonder and awe established by the hints and asides regarding mysterious kingdoms and magic and such things in earlier Discworld novels such as The Colour of Magic and Pyramids. Also I don't mean to criticise the standards and consistency of Pratchett's authorship at this point and there are a few notable examples of more fantasy-based, genre-fiction parodying Discworld books to come (The Last Hero anyone?), but I do think it'd be naive to ignore the power and awe of a successful franchise and the inevitable changes that ensue upon becoming one.

Anyway, I should probably talk about the book for a bit. Feet of Clay is the third book to star the City Watch, led by Samuel Vimes and also featuring Fred Colon (a human), Carrot (human adopted by dwarfs also undoubtedly long lost heir to the throne of Ankh-Morpork), Detritus (a troll), Angua (a werewolf), and Nobby Nobbs (a... something) in an inter-species ensemble cast that only continues to grow with this novel (and future Watch books, of course). Having established themselves through the events of Guards! Guards! and Men At Arms as a legitimate force in the city, and somehow successfully protecting the city from dragons and gunpowder, here they are faced with an altogether more complicated murder mystery that delves further into the complexities of Pratchett's lead fictional city, serving to signal Pratchett's intentions of mimicking the real-life melting plot of cultures and ethnicities of metropolises such as London or New York. The chief suspect in this case is a golem.

I don't wish to give much away regarding the winding plot of this novel, but the business with the golems is only one piece of a larger puzzle involving a political conspiracy threatening to depose the long reigning Patrician of Ankh-Morpork. Watch Commander Sam Vimes has basically become unwilling nobility through marriage, something which goes against every fibre of his being as a born-in-poverty street-smart anti-establishment type, and he must deal with the criminal dregs of society, the criminal high society, and the criminal minorities of society. In this book, the latter of which are the golems, who exist in a rather curious state of satirical limbo; there are no Jews on the Discworld or much of an equivalent, so he can't satirise them in the way he did with Roman Catholicism in Small Gods- though I really don't know very much about classic Jewish culture whatsoever, so a lot of it might have gone straight over my head- but he does use the fantastical, mystical existence of the golems to great effect in relation to magic on the Discworld.

Pratchett's interest in fleshing out his satirical look at the planet Earth on a more specifically sociological basis didn't start with this book of course, but it does stand out to me as the first example of him dealing with the topic of a clash of cultures in a now-familiar environment. Reading about Ankh-Morpork was second nature by 1996, but the post-Feet of Clay Discworld series would see the core concepts of the series in general slowly move further away from its origins in fantasy satire towards this more intensely focused universe that, by now, millions of readers were invested it. As we move further through the Discworld series (almost half way now, I honestly never thought I'd reach this far) I must lament the fact that we've definitely just moved out of what I consider to be Pratchett's finest streak of novels (from Reaper Man to Interesting Times to be specific) into a more inconsistent yet varied future. I must admit I'm not a big a fan of Feet of Clay as I am the prior Watch novels, but it does provide an equal, if not larger amount of things to mull over.

Perhaps equally as important, it marks the point where the characters of the Watch become almost ubiquitous in their appearances. Next in the series is an interesting one for me, the first Discworld book I ever read; Hogfather, where Terry Pratchett ignores everything I've just said about him changing the nature of the Discworld series to write a high-fantasy book about Death fighting the auditors of reality for the sake of Christmas... sorry, Hogswatch.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 18- Maskerade

Maskerade

Corgi

 Terry Pratchett

1995

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- The Colour of Magic - The Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords and Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Raising Steam - A Blink of the Screen - Sky1 Adaptations- Dodger - The Long Earth (w Stephen Baxter)

“Well, basically there are two sorts of opera," said Nanny, who also had the true witch's ability to be confidently expert on the basis of no experience whatsoever. "There's your heavy opera, where basically people sing foreign and it goes like "Oh oh oh, I am dyin', oh I am dyin', oh oh oh, that's what I'm doin'", and there's your light opera, where they sing in foreign and it basically goes "Beer! Beer! Beer! Beer! I like to drink lots of beer!", although sometimes they drink champagne instead. That's basically all of opera, reely.”

Eighteen books in to this mammoth fantasy series, I get the strange, nostalgic, but now incorrect sensation of moving forward into the later stages of Terry Pratchett's career. This is, of course, ridiculous, as, since Raising Steam became the fortieth Discworld book late last year (and now the only one I am yet to read), meaning my Herculean attempts to chronologically review them haven't yet reached the half-way mark. The biggest reason for this feeling is quite probably just because we're only two books away from the point where I first started, all those years ago, but there's another reason; if you count Equal Rites then this is the fifth book starring the ever-popular witches of Lancre; one of the core, strongest franchise-within-a-franchise of this fantastic universe. After confidently tackling mad wannabe monarchs, an evil fairy godmother, the cold brutality of elves, and steering the course of the crown, Granny Weatherwax, Nanny Ogg and Magrat Garlick were somewhat at risk of running out of steam.

This was clearly something Pratchett was aware of, as Maskerade brought in some notable changes from the previous four witches books. Firstly, for the first time as a group, the witches were headed to Ankh-Morpork, Pratchett's favourite, most popular and most populated Discworld stomping ground. Yes, Granny had visited with the girl wizard Esk in Equal Rites, but her character there was undeniably under-developed and raw compared to the definitive witch she became, and the appeal of all three of Granny's coven loudly trampling in to Ankh-Morpork was undeniable for the ever-growing legion of Pratchett fans; especially when they absolutely needed to take a break from the rather limited caricature of old regional Britain that comprised their home. The next, and biggest effort of Maskerade was to introduce a fresh lead character; a new, different witch designed with the purpose of allowing the classic trio to step out of the singular spotlight formerly glaring down upon them while at the same time somewhat presenting them as the well-established authority to be somewhat resented, at least from one point of view.

The set-up for Maskerade follows on from the last witches book Lords and Ladies, where Magrat was married to the court-jester-cum-King Verence II and thus became Queen of Lancre and has not the time to app ear in this book. Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax note quite rightly that a coven of witches needs three members to balance itself correctly, especially as Granny (by now easily established by Pratchett as clearly the wisest, most powerful, and most potentially dangerous of all magic users on the Disc) shows signs of cracking a little within this new alignment. This, along with a side-mission to address the (perhaps meta) issue of an unscrupulous book publisher taking advantage of Nanny Ogg's previously-unknown talent for writing somewhat saucy recipes, leads Nanny and Granny to Ankh-Morpork, where they go to persuade the reluctant Agnes Nitt, potential witch and suitable candidate, to fulfill the missing role in the time-old tradition of maiden, mother and... the other one. The only trouble is she's really not that interested, and she's in Ankh-Morpork to seek fame and fortune at the opera house.

Let's wind down this ever-growing plot summary before it gets going to establish one important fact in relation to my overall enjoyment of this book; my knowledge of opera, its traditions, favourites, and even cliches is incredibly limited. Though I can often pretend to be interested in aspects of high art, classics, and popular culture in order to make myself seem more intelligent than I really am, I would never pretend to have any interest in opera. I'm even less interested and in fact am downright hostile towards it's more contemporary and, some would say ridiculous alternative in musical theatre, and Pratchett smartly entwines the two by focusing on creating a pastiche of Gaston Leroux's famous early twentieth-century French novel The Phantom of the Opera. Now, my perhaps total lack of knowledge regarding the subject matter probably automatically limits my enjoyment of the novel, because after all the key to successful satire is context. While I did enjoy Pratchett's rich descriptions of an environment both new to the Discworld but also one that seamlessly fits in with its ever-growing tapestry,  there was no humour in the parodies for me (most of which I could only find explained through the handy L-Space Web's Annotated Pratchett Files).

Underneath the thematic dressing lies a character study revolving around Agnes Nitt, her relationship with the witches and her apparent destiny, and a battle of style verses substance. Unlike the considerably eccentric figures of Granny, Nanny, and even Magrat, Agnes is a much more well-rounded, normal, and relatable character; something which both benefits and handicaps the novel. Pratchett describes Agnes as overweight, unattractive, and somewhat withdrawn, in such a manner as to invite sympathy from the reader. She does, however, have an amazing operatic singing voice, blowing away the viewers of her tryout at the opera house, but her non-showbiz looks make them reluctant to make her a central figure. Instead, Agnes is positioned as a backing singer and told to use her amazing talents to slyly provide the main voice for the sake of cliched beauty Christine (thus becoming a suitably altered center for the Phantom of the Opera storyline). Pratchett's positioning of the two main conflicts of the story is superb; in one respect she's perfect for the role in the witches coven, but the apparent lack of choice and definite lack of glamour pushes her further towards the opera house, where she finds out that she can't be in control either way. 

For Agnes, this is somewhat of a coming-of-age story- a genre Pratchett had been very fond of in his earlier Discworld installments- that results in an ending with a more mature (if somewhat predictable) conclusion to her troubles. It's also paralleled by a similar mental dilemma faced by Granny Weatherwax, who fears the temptation of darkness that comes with her ever-growing power and wisdom, and as such the two stories thematically entwine in such a way as to resolve everybody's problems at the end. While I don't want to criticise the way Pratchett leaves the characters from a technical standpoint, I do feel that his choice of resolution could've been more interesting; particularly compared to Equal Rites or Small Gods.

So overall then (as I attempt to reign this ever-growing review into check), I leave this look at Maskerade with mixed thoughts. The first, unequivocally and unfortunately negatively, is that the opera theme didn't click with me. It was well written and somewhat evocative, but not to any extent that I could fully embrace the satire, like in Soul Music, for example. The character work is deeper than first apparent, and worthy of more thought, though Agnes Nitt despite (or because of) her complexity and realism isn't much of a hook, especially when overshadowed so greatly by her elderly contemporaries. However underneath all that is a much more recognisable story about young people's aspirations in the face of reality that should echo with a great number of readers; maybe not quite young adult, thanks to the mixed messages of the conclusion, but for slightly older readers to compare with their own progression from youth into eventual careers and such. Definitely a far more interesting book for me than it was upon first glance.