Following on from today’s two other posts about Terry Pratchett, I reached out on Twitter to a few bloggers to get their thoughts on Sir Terry’s work. Here is what they had to say, as well as some of my own thoughts on one of the greatest, most-beloved fantasy series.
This is the first post in a mini-series focused on the work of Terry Pratchett, which will go up on the blog over the course of this week. Here, Tom Lloyd (author of the Twilight Reign series) discusses the impact of Pratchett’s writing on his own…
“On Terry Pratchett” by Tom Lloyd
Terry Pratchett has an entirely unique position in my book collection. I’ve got beautiful folio editions of Tolkien, a hardback collection of the Malazan Book of the Fallen, several first editions by BB I’m saving to read to my daughter, but the tatty, much-read Pratchett paperbacks still reign. For starters, I own more of his books than anyone else’s – they almost rival my own for the number of copies I have – and secondly, they’ve been read more than any other’s. I rarely re-read books, I’m a slow reader and simply don’t have the time, but whenever I’m stressed or too tired to keep up with a new book, I’ll grab a Pratchett as I head to bed. It’s a habit my wife’s taken up and a testament to the quality that some have had over a dozen re-reads and remain enjoyable. They’re not perfect, with fluctuations of style and missteps aplenty, but still I’m not convinced millions of readers and a knighthood is sufficient recognition for his body of work, given the sniffy attitudes of the large chunks of the reading public.
Terry Pratchett’s next novel, of course! Following up from my previous post about Sir Pratchett’s next Discworld novel, which will feature Sam Vimes back at its centre, the artwork has now been unveiled! So here it is:
[Thanks due to Adam at The Wertzone, where I saw this first.]
The next Discworld novel to be a new Vimes novel!
It feels like an age since Sam Vimes was the focus of a Discworld novel, but he is back as the star of Snuff, published in October 2011. Snuff is the ninth novel in the City Watch/Guards series, following on from the excellent Thud! (2005); and it will be the 39th Discworld book overall.
Here’s the synopsis:
According to the writer of the best-selling crime novel ever to have been published in the city of Ankh-Morpork, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a policeman taking a holiday would barely have had time to open his suitcase before he finds his first corpse.
And Commander Sam Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch is on holiday in the pleasant and innocent countryside, but not for him a mere body in the wardrobe. There are many, many bodies and an ancient crime more terrible than murder.
He is out of his jurisdiction, out of his depth, out of bacon sandwiches, and occasionally snookered and out of his mind, but never out of guile. Where there is a crime there must be a finding, there must be a chase and there must be a punishment.
They say that in the end all sins are forgiven.
But not quite all…
No artwork available as yet, but I’ll keep an eye out for it, and feature it on the site as soon as possible. Needless to say, the Guards have always been my favourite series-within-the-series, and I can’t wait for Snuff.
In other Pratchett news, The Long Earth series is going ahead (two books – one an omnibus of two novellas, one full-length novel) – a collaboration between Pratchett and well-known and successful science-fiction author Stephen Baxter, the first book should see an early 2012 release.
Pyramids, mummies, and assassins collide in this stand-alone Discworld novel
Being trained by the Assassin's Guild in Ankh-Morpork did not fit Teppic for the task assigned to him by fate. He inherited the throne of the desert kingdom of Djelibeybi rather earlier than he expected (his father wasn’t too happy about it either), but that was only the beginning of his problems...
Pyramids was the seventh Discworld novel, and is one of my favourite stand-alones in the series, although for some reason I’ve not re-read it that often. With my new-found commitment to reviewing older novels as well as new releases, I thought there was no better time to unearth Pyramids.
As always, Pratchett’s humour is spot on – even though this was an early novel, it didn’t suffer from the pun-and-joke-heavy nature (some might say ‘saturation’) of Colour of Magic, as it was clear the author was starting to become much more confident and comfortable in the world. There are still moments where the jokes, puns and gags come a little too fast and frequently, but for the most part, this is a well-balanced comic fantasy novel.
The novel starts with Teppic’s Assassins’ Guild final exam, interspersed with flashbacks to his time at the school, and memories of his father. It’s a good introduction to the Assassins’ Guild, offering an amusing portrait – particularly the importance of fashion, as interested in clean lines as clean kills:
“All assassins had a full-length mirror in their rooms, because it would be a terrible insult to anyone to kill them when you were badly dressed.”
Teppic’s memories of the school are great, and should bring a sense of nostalgia to anyone who went through (at least) the British school system – only, minus the instruction on the many ways to inhume someone... He’s an interesting character, and the novel follows his attempts to come to grips with his new-found divinity and position as King, in a land he knows little about. He was more comfortable and at home in Ankh-Morpork, yet his duty requires him to remain in Djelibeybi. He has to re-learn customs, language, and how to deal with his blinkered subjects and domineering High Priest. And then they build the largest pyramid ever, and everything goes… quantum…
We are also treated with Teppic’s father’s opinion on assassination and politics, how he justified sending his son away to learn at the Guild. King Teppicymon XXVII, Djelibeybi's god-Pharaoh, ponders the issue, and
“felt that while assassination was probably worse than debate it was certainly better than war, which some people tended to think of as the same thing only louder.”
Teppicymon’s a great character. As death on the Discworld is a rather subjective matter, he hangs around his body while it is being embalmed and mummified. It’s an interesting perspective that one wouldn’t really have thought about writing. He gloomily watches his own mummification, but slowly grows accustomed to the process (the exchange about which wrapping-cloth to use was particularly amusing among a selection of very funny scenes), not to mention acquiring an interest for his former subjects for the first time. The embalmers he listens to are very funny, very good caricatures of working-class temperament and thought-processes. We learn that Teppicymon was worried when he was alive about how he would explain if the sun didn’t rise, if the river didn’t flood, or crops didn’t grow. It can’t be often that someone like this suffers job/performance anxiety.
The Kingdom of Djelibeybi, which Teppic inherits, is a well-crafted parody of ancient Egypt, and Pratchett clearly had a lot of fun playing with the history and so forth.
“two miles wide and one hundred and fifty miles long, which was almost entirely under water during the flood season, and threatened on either side by stronger neighbours who tolerated its existence only because they'd be constantly at war if it wasn't there.”
The ‘science’ and economics of pyramids, living and dealing with camels, a nation of high-superstition and fear of the gods… this is really fertile ground for punning and satirising, and Pratchett makes the most of his subject material. I don’t think many pages went by without a single laugh, chuckle, or smile.
In Dios, the High Priest, Pratchett has turned his imagination to the Grand Vizier who does not so much pull strings from behind the curtain, but rather pushes his king behind it. He’s a different character than many Grand Viziers (most notably, all High Priests, apparently, are very clear about being different, higher creatures), but it’s clear that Pratchett drew on such characters to inform this parody and distillation of the Machiavellian subordinate. It’s amusing to read Dios’s reactions whenever Teppic takes initiative, or tries to be personable with his superstitious subjects, bringing his ‘foreign thinking’ home.
Any review of a Pratchett novel could be endlessly filled with snippets of the author’s text, so quotable is his writing – for example, Pyramids contains one of my favourite descriptions of human beings: “little bags of thinking water held up briefly by fragile accumulations of calcium”. You’ll also learn about the unlikely, greatest mathematicians on the Disc (which is another great, Pratchett-ian touch).
I could quote endlessly from this novel, but I shall just leave it with – you need to read this. Pratchett’s gift for writing – puns, prose, characters, everything – is on perfect display, and makes Pyramids a pleasure to read. The novel isn’t quite Pratchett’s best, although it was getting there. I still think his Guards novels are better than any other – a little less farce, better storytelling, superb characters and interplay between them, and more established, confident writing – but Pyramids is one of the better stand-alone novels in the Discworld series.
Filled with great satirical wit, Pyramids is a fun read, and highly recommended.
Football Comes to the Discworld, and something strange is afoot…
I suppose it was inevitable, but football has finally come to the ancient city of Ankh-Morpork. This is not the old fashioned, violent, grubby, pushing-and-shoving football. No, this is a new, faster football. There are proper goals, a new football that beguilingly goes ‘gloing’ when you drop it, and soars through the air, unlike the rock-solid old type which broke feet and heads equally.
Because of an obscure, old bequest made to the Unseen University (Ankh-Morpork’s school of Wizards), the wizards must win a football match, without using any magic. Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully delegates the organisation and training of UU’s team (much like he delegates everything else) to Ponder Stibbons who holds, by his own reckoning, the majority vote on any University Council meeting he must decide to hold (simply because he fulfils so many positions within the university).
The prospect of the Big Match draws in a myriad of characters from the streets of Ankh-Morpork and also the servants quarters of the University. Trev Likely, a street urchin with a talent for kicking a tin can; Glenda, who makes lots of jolly good pies for the Wizards; Juliet, Glenda’s dim but beautiful young colleague in the Night Kitchen (with an awful, Holly Golightly accent), who might just turn out to be the greatest fashion model there has ever been. And then there is the mysterious, erudite, and eternally eloquent Mr. Nutt. No one knows much of anything about Mr. Nutt, not even himself, worryingly. All he knows is that he must attain worth, and can do pretty much anything. Then Ponder Stibbons asks him to help with the football preparations…
Unseen Academicals, the 37th Discworld novel, is a wonderful return to Unseen University. After a considerable absence, it was nice to finally be among the wizards again. The faculty continue to amuse, parodies as they are of university Dons and Fellows. Even poor Rincewind – the star of the first handful of Discworld novels, as well as others – who, as the new “Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography” has “no students and no real duties other than to stay out of trouble”. The whole cast of them remains wonderfully inept and food-obsessed. Add to this the fact that the Dean has moved on to head a rival university, and tensions (not to mention Ridcully’s blood-pressure) are high. I was disappointed that they seemed to fade a bit out of the story in the second half, though.
The cast below-decks – Trev, Glenda, Juliet, and Mr. Nutt – provide a different approach to Unseen University, as we are given a glimpse into how things actually work, and what sort of people keep the place running. Each character is different and very well rounded. Nutt, especially, is one of the best additions to the Discworld in a long time (though, Moist Von Lipwig is pretty great, too).
I laughed a lot more while reading Unseen Academicals than I remember with some of the more recent Discworld novels. However, the plot didn’t seem as gripping as some of his previous Discworld outings. There’s a lot going on, for sure, but the story doesn’t move along at the sort of pace we’ve become used to with Pratchett’s writing. This might have something to do with the increased frequency with which we switch between perspectives, and the number of people’s eyes we see through. The characters remain intriguing and interesting – the Patrician and Librarian remaining two of the best characters ever created, by anyone. The dialogue is sharp and amusing throughout (his social commentary, certainly with regards to football fans, remains very keen also), filled with clever allusions and puns that will make you chuckle knowingly.
All in all, not one of the best Discworld novels, but Pratchett remains a superior author even with his ‘off’ days. Unseen Academicals will entertain you throughout – and that’s all we can ask from one of the UK’s greatest living writers.
Highly recommended.
