Terry Pratchett and his sublime word-wielding

Whenever I'm feeling snippy about the state of books, general entertainment, or humanity as a whole[1], I read some Terry Pratchett, and leave with a much more optimistic view on life, the universe, and everything[2].

Pratchett writes social-commentary-slash-fantasy novels. Really, they're a genre unto themselves. It should be included in the library genre sticker system: romance, mystery, sci-fi, Pratchett. The symbol can be an ankh. Or maybe a scythe.

Pratchett's world is vast: his ridiculously-sprawling fantasy series Discworld (obligatory explanation: the Discworld is much like our own, except it is a) rife with magical creatures and b) flat, positioned on the backs of four elephants who in turn are situated atop a giant turtle who swims gently through the universe, its destination known only unto it) has 44 installments and its very own wiki. Thankfully, though, they need not be read in order, as most exist as (at least semi-) stand-alone stories. Kind of like Star Trek: it's nice to go at them in order, as there are certainly themes and some amount of character development, but it's not entirely necessary. You can just pick up wherever and have a good time. 

Also thankfully, despite having wizards and dragons and dwarves, they are not books-with-maps, which is to say, they're not high fantasy, full of Kings and Kingdoms with made-up names, heroes destined-from-birth-to-save-the-world, and complicated historical/geopolitical scheming [3].

This series is so far reaching, and covers so many topics, that one is bound to run into (or trip over) it at some point. There are many entrances to the world of the Disc, and I can't remember now which of the following two ways I wandered in; pick the one that suits your fancy.

1. Via: The children's/YA portion of Discworld, encompassed in the 4 (so far) Wee Free Men books. They are, like all Pratchett, hilarious, fourth-wall-breaking, punny, probing, insightful, slightly irreverent, practical, and unique. Basic synopsis: Tiffany Aching is a shepherdess-turned-witch in the climbs of damp, Scotland-like mountains whose brother gets kidnapped by the queen of the fairies. Tiffany, being a take-no-nonsense-from-anybody sort of girl and having Second and Third Thoughts to help her through the tricky spots, sets out to rescue him, "armed with only a frying pan and her common sense". Oh, and helped/harried by the Wee Free Men, tiny blue men who are convinced that they are dead and gone to some kind of heaven, as only in heaven would you be allowed such amazing opportunities to drink, fight, and sheep-thieve. This Amazon review reminds us of some of the choicer Feegle names, including "Slightly Bigger Than Wee Jock But Not So Big as Middle-Sized Jock Jock" and "Rob Anybody."

or

2. Via: boredom. One lazy summer afternoon, or possibly a snow day - it's really not terribly important which, just some long day with nothing to do - I was lacking in library books, and disinclined to read anything on my own shelves, so I raided my mother's books and thought The Color of Magic looked interesting enough...

And now, in my malaise of can't-find-anything-to-read-that-doesn't-annoy, some of my kind-hearted friends have reminded me of the goodness and hilarity that is Pratchett. In recent weeks, I've read Going Postal, Guards! Guards!, and Monstrous Regiment, and am currently working on Small Gods. They deal with, in order, the relevancy of the postal service in the internet/clacks age and con-men; tyrants, kings, and dragons; nationalism, war, gender roles, and the importance of socks; religious fervor/fanaticism, prophets, gods, and tortoises. 

Not just anybody could make such disparate things all hang together, but Pratchett does with aplomb. Well, aplomb and jokes. And spot-on observations. Like these gems from Guards! Guards!: "Going Up in the World is a metaphor, which...is like Lying, but more decorative." And this, discussing Ankh-Morpork's (big, charming city of legalized vice [there are Assassins' and Thieves' guilds] ruled by a most practical tyrant) method of dealing with war: "And eventually, under siege, you did what Ankh-Morpork had always done - unbar the gates, let the conquerors in, and make them your own." 

I'll keep you posted. 

But really. Go read some Pratchett. You'll laugh, (you probably won't cry), you'll look over your shoulder for a Grim Reaper talking in small caps, and feel invigorated by the wit and wisdom of a master author. 

xo, 

Devo



[1] Yes, that escalated quickly.

[2] Whoops, wrong writer of weird, British novels.

[3] Needless to say, I don't read Game of Thrones. Everything that needs to be known about that can be learned from tumblr.