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.

Obsessive Compulsive Behavour

A few days ago, on not more than a whim, I decided to reorganise the few pictures I have on this blog; mainly saving them and uploading them rather than being lazy and hot linking. Well, my obsessive compulsive nature kicked in and I ended up spending far too much time visually rearranging them and adding a ton more, so if you go look at old articles (for some reason) you'll see a bunch of extra covers and author photos, all alligned fairly neatly to the sides of the page. I suppose I could've spent this time actually reading a book but leave me alone.

Also, while I'm here, my plans to write another Comics Snobbery article have been set back by the fact that I wasn't very happy with the last one, and my next topic is even more convoluted and snarky, so that's on temporary hold. Not sure what's next, to be honest, I started reading Goethe's Faust, but though I'm enjoying it as a classic it's not something I find myself constantly picking up, so I might just start something else to go along with it. I'll probably just write the next Discworld review next.

Thus ends this merry update.

Alex Boese- Elephants on Acid and other Bizarre Experiments

Elephants on Acid and other Bizarre Experiments

Pan Books

Alex Boese

2007

'Tusko the elephant led a peaceful life at the Oklahoma City zoo. There were his daily baths, playtime with his mate, Judy, and the constant crowds of people peering at him from the other side of the fence. Nothing out of the ordinary. So when he awoke in his barn on the morning of Friday, August 3, 1962, he could hardly have foreseen what that day held in store. He was about to become the first elephant ever given LSD'  

Huzzah, finally I have the Internet available twenty-four seven once more, allowing me to spend my days sat in one spot refreshing the same pages over and over again in the hope of something new and interesting turning up. To celebrate, have the dazzling combination of a hastily-made selection of links, a Goodreads update widget (hidden down the page because it's somewhat ugly), and a fairly short (he says before writing it) review of the latest book I finished; a non-fiction collection of bizarre scientific anecdotes from author Alex Boese, Elephants on Acid and other Bizarre Experiments.

I say fairly short because, despite its factual contents, this book isn't to be confused with more detailed and teacherly tomes that have confused me in the past (such as Dawkin's The Blind Watchmaker, for example), but instead intentionally settles for a more laid-back, journalistic style. Alex Boese is a science major educated at the University of California, but his bread and butter since then has been tales from the fringes of the discipline, most notably his website The Museum of Hoaxes (which is well worth a look). This book, as the title suggests, is a guide to some of the most infamous and often disturbing recorded scientific experiments of all time, varying in both sanity and motive. Boese splits the experiments by general categories (animals, dreams, death etc.), and keeps each of the accounts short, often three pages or less.

Therein lies both the appeal and the problem with this book, and why, while I enjoyed it to a certain extent, I can't recommend it on many levels. The brevity of almost every one of these short stories limits the appeal and quality of the book in general, which is particularly disappointing considering the potential it shows. Boese has done a superb job in researching and selecting a wide range of genuinely interesting, compelling cases of varying natures; some involving patently mad scientists (both classical and modern), others investigating human psychology in unpredictable and even slightly disturbing ways (Stanley Milgram's infamous obedience experiment comes to mind most prominently, so here's the Wiki article on it). The problem is that some of these are so interesting that I wanted to read more about them; and yes, obviously I could do my own research, but damn it I've got a stupidly large pile of books to read.

That's really my only complaint about this book, and I suppose it does come in to conflict with the very nature of it. Boese, while clearly an intelligent man of science, doesn't seem interesting in delving into any more complex scientific detail than he has to. His prose is decent, conversational and pleasant, though somewhat generic in comparison to the more renowned popular science authors, and his sense of humour is hit or miss, and formulaic in its use (unlike, say, Douglas Adam's venture into the natural world with Last Chance To See- yes, I do like linking to my own stuff). As I read further and reached the chapter entitled 'Toilet Reading' it became very apparent that Elephants on Acid was likely designed to be toilet reading; brief stories that are easy to read in one sitting and give the reader the impression of something valuable being imparted, when really the lack of detail in each case means there's little to be gained but a reference point.

Altogether then, before this review spirals out of control, I can't recommend Elephants on Acid unless you're like me and buy it second hand and really enjoy a nice looking cover. I don't want to criticise it too badly because, for what it is, it's well-produced and never boring, and (despite the darkened wardrobe of books to be read) really did have me searching on the Internet for more information on a few occasions, which I suppose is something. If, like me, you're looking to educate your non-scientific mind via the wisdom of a master of popular science, then you'd be better off sticking to Richard Dawkins and friends.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 17- Interesting Times

Interesting Times

Corgi Press

Terry Pratchett

1994

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)

"I know about people who talk about suffering for the common good. It's never bloody them! When you hear a man shouting "Forward, brave comrades!" you'll see he's the one behind the bloody big rock and the one wearing the only really arrow-proof helmet!"

Ah, Interesting Times, one of my most-fondly remembered Discworld books of them all. My memory is somewhat hazy, but I believe that my somewhat disorganised introduction to the Discworld series (following on from The Bromeliad Trilogy) began randomly with The Hogfather, then The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic pair, which led me to Interesting Times. In hindsight, this lack of proper chronological order terrifies me, but such is the freedom and folly of youth. It didn't exactly put me off the series though.

Anyway, the premier attraction of Interesting Times for me and everyone else is Pratchett's decision to finally reunite the heroes of his first two-part adventure; Rincewind and Twoflower, and then expand upon the return of the latter by applying his now well-established brand of fantastical social satire on his suspiciously recognisable cultural and ethnic origins (plus the well-placed inclusion of CoM/LF's best supporting character, Cohen the Barbarian). Following on from the events of Eric, Rincewind the Wizzard is back within the walls of Unseen University, desperately trying to avoid anything resembling danger. Unfortunately for him, Rincewind is a danger magnet, and finds himself approached by the University faculty to participate in a bit of intercontinental diplomacy. After some negotiation, Rincewind finds himself, via means of magical teleportation, right in the middle of the mysterious Agatean Empire, where he soon finds himself mixed up in a national revolution.

 Further than that I can't really be bothered to explain the plot any further than that because firstly if you're reading this then you probably already know it, and secondly because it's nothing particularly special by itself (compared to some of the author's previous efforts). In my last review of Soul Music I praised Pratchett for his ability to mix his often very direct satirical musings with the detailed minutia of his constantly expanding universe, and Interesting Times is another success along those lines. Whereas Soul Music blended in the magic of the Discworld with the magic of rock and roll, Interesting Times is even more topical, as the Agatean Empire exists as an amalgamated concoction of Asia and Asian history, although for Pratchett this is as much about current perceptions of those topics as historical fact. Rincewind, as an increasingly cynical and deceptively wise piece of fictional brilliance, is the perfect centerpiece of the tale, able to react with as much astonishment, cynicism and fear as is necessary.

The return of Cohen and the expansion of his personality (including new friends) is perhaps the final key as to why I like this book so much, as the topical humour clicks into place at its best when Cohen the Barbarian transforms into Genghis Cohen. There's also a more defined and plot-orientated place for Rincewind's long cause-of-suffering The Luggage, and Twoflower's expansion into a more three-dimensional character clearly helps display the improvement in Pratchett's character presentation and development. On a more negative note, I did find that some of the more cliche aspects of the plot (including the villain, the Grand Vizier of Agatea), though made intentionally so for the sake of humorous deconstruction, go too far in that regard. Still, that's really about as critical as I'm going to get.

In conclusion, though I wouldn't ever place Interesting Times into the upper echelon of the best Discworld books thanks to the lack of a particularly original or inspired main plot, it's still a highly polished and fun piece of fiction by an author in his prime.

Terry Pratchett- Dodger

Dodger

Doubleday

Terry Pratchett

2012

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)

“--one of the reasons I'm talking to you now is to tell you that whatever you may be planning, you must not break the law. Since I have just now stepped out of this room and any voice you may be hearing cannot possibly be mine, I must however point out to you that there are times when the law may be somewhat...flexible.”

When I first discovered the novels of Terry Pratchett I was (I think) thirteen-years-old, beginning with Truckers (the first book of The Bromeliad Trilogy), after which I devoured the Discworld series with vigorous aplomb. When I reached 16 I finally got a job, which meant I had enough money to buy each new novel by the author as and when they came out and power through them as quickly as I could. I'm not sure when it was, or why, that the magic somewhat faded. Perhaps through over-familiarity, perhaps even a decline in overall standards, but the prior magic of a new novel by my favourite author melted away to be replaced by merely a mental note to get around to it at some point.

Terry Pratchett's Dodger was released on the 25th of September.2012. I got it that Christmas as a present from my old dear mother, and about a year later I finally started reading it. Truth be told, I was somewhat apprehensive about how much I'd enjoy Pratchett's newest non-Discworld novel, thanks to the Victorian setting (which seemed to me like somewhat of a redundant gimmick when considering that Pratchett's last ten years of Discworld novels have basically done the same thing with the city of Ankh-Morpork), and thanks to my disdain for his last non-Disc book; Nation. The first few chapters, perhaps fifty-pages or so seemingly did little to change my mind, but at some point after this things clicked in to place enough to make me look back at my preconceptions and scoff.

The great bearded one himself.

Pratchett describes Dodger as a historical fantasy, using real historical figures (such as Charles Dickens, Benjamin Disraeli and others) as characters in his story set on the streets of Victorian London, starring the titular Dodger, who, it almost goes without saying, is Pratchett's version of Dickens' famous supporting act from Oliver Twist. It became quickly apparent, however, that Dodger is immediately recognisable as a very Pratchetian (yes I just made that up) character to his very core. The plot is a constantly evolving one full of mystery and intrigue, and I don't wish to spoil its development here, but it revolves around Dodger being thrust out of his comfort zone of poverty, dirty work and strange homeless people in to the world of London society as he becomes inadvertently caught up in a whirlwind of dangerous politics with international implications, after having a heroic moment saving an unfortunate random young lady from some vile miscreants on the street, then finding her not to be so random after all.

Pratchett adapts the satirical fantasy of his usual novels into a more realistic setting without much difficulty, taking real life historical aspects of poverty and corruption in the city and attacking or embracing them with his individually charismatic prose style, but, as I said before, it's something he's been doing for some time now (Discworld novels The Truth and Thud stand out for me as examples), so it was really down to the strength of the characters to make it stand out. It's for that reason, I think, that it took a while for me to really get in to Dodger, since Pratchett writes his character with measured depth, developing his personality and intelligence in relation to the developments of the plot. It's hard for me not to compare Pratchett's character to his Discworld versions, but Dodger is actually somewhat unique in his make-up, though many of the supporting cast are very recognisable; Sir Robert Peel, for example, is a a dead-on mash-up of Sam Vimes and The Patrician.

I'm not going to rave too much about this because it's far from a life changing tome or a unique genre-changing classic, and it's far from Terry Pratchett's best. What it is is a somewhat memorable young adult adventure novel that would probably make a very good blockbuster adaptation or TV drama, but isn't really anything more than a three star book. Pratchett does an admirable job of developing tension, suspense and plot mystery (though I wasn't much of a fan of the ending), and also writes one of his most affectionately understated romantic sub-plots, but I also noticed a suspicious lack of set-pieces; there are plenty of long- thoughtful conversations about the nature of poverty and fairness and all that, but, for a book with a plot revolving around international politics and espionage, Pratchett spends very little time outlining just what exactly is going on. As a result, the adventure aspects are undercooked for the sake of satirical philosophy, which I've read just too many times from this man's pen.

I don't give review scores, but if I did it'd be 3 stars.

Another Magnificent Update

So apparently Christmas/New Year isn't the best time to get the Internet sorted out in your new home, and it'll take about two weeks to be installed. Doesn't help that I went for the cheapest option, either.

I like my new flat though. Happy new year and all that.