Terry Pratchett Page 8

  (Eric)

  Followers of the Discworld series find recurring themes, such as the importance of the number eight, the occupation of a character’s mind by a malignant force – sometimes themselves! – and the return of many characters and acquaintances within specific story arcs.*

  There are eight days in a disc week and eight colours in its light spectrum. Suffice to say, eight is a number of magical significance on the Discworld.

  There are many characters who populate the Discworld – above and below it, human and otherwise – but some characters have more to do with the history of the Discworld than others. Probably the best example of this is Rincewind. He has travelled the length and breadth of the Discworld, he has fallen off it, and, most importantly, he has travelled back in time to its beginning and visited the creator himself – well, one of them anyway. Sometimes the smaller stories (those that don’t bounce around too much or bring in much of the Discworld countryside and history) seem divorced from the series, because they lack the rich and fertile opportunities that the Discworld has created, making the story appear insular and unimportant in comparison.* This isn’t a new observation; the same was said about the TV show The X-Files. Any story that had little to do with building the alien conspiracy theory was deemed a lesser story by some fans who were keen to wallow in the bigger picture. This was quite unfair because some of the one-off episodes (such as ‘Tooms’) were among the most imaginative stories; they broke the mould and got people thinking about the series in a different way, and the same could be said for The Truth, Soul Music and even Going Postal in the Discworld series. In fact, the truth about The Truth is it’s about journalism and one can quite easily see Pratchett drawing from his 15 years of experience as a journalist to fuel the story. If one ignores the dwarves and vampires, one can see an understanding of the history of journalism in the novel and probably the history of the inside of a pint glass too, as that seems to be a happy pastime for many a roving reporter!

  I am not including one-off novels in this discussion, or mini-series set outside the Discworld, such as the Johnny Maxwell novels.

  There comes a time when there is only so much that can be said about a specific fantasy world, because too much explanation becomes tedious and takes away some of the mystery. Also, if there is so much speculation over the course of years, the public is never satisfied with whatever pay-off the writer eventually comes up with.*

  Returning to The X-Files, it got to the stage where the final pay-off wasn’t enough, the series having been complicated beyond explanation. But the key to the Discworld is the characters and what they bring to the greater story. For example, it has been speculated by some Pratchett fans that the longest-serving ArchChancellor of the Unseen University, Mustrum Ridcully the Brown, is actually Pratchett himself. With his characteristic hat, staff and white beard, one can detect a strong resemblance, and who else could Pratchett be in the series than the master of the most learned place of Ankh-Morpork? It’s so fitting when one appreciates his background and love of writing. Also, by calling him ‘the Brown’, Pratchett is parodying Gandalf the Grey from The Lord of the Rings, but even Gandalf looks like Ridcully and quite possibly Pratchett too! (What about Lord Vetinari with his black clothing and death’s-head walking stick? Surely Pratchett in his Discworld manifestation.)

  The characters of the Discworld allow Pratchett to explore different themes. The Night Watch allows Pratchett to tackle crime themes plus deeper subjects such as sectarianism, diversity and race relations and a more methodical type of storyline. The Nac Mac Feegle bring in Gaelic legend and Scottish history – and just a hint of stereotypical Scottish fun. Granny Weatherwax allows druid potions and ancient – and modern – medicines to be discussed. Even the Unseen University librarian allows Pratchett to discuss orangutans (although more about them later).

  Quite rightly, Pratchett has stated that he doesn’t intend to explain away or conclude the Discworld series.

  Pratchett doesn’t just keep his influences in the British Isles. With the inclusion of ancient warriors and vampires, there is more than a passing reference to European history. Asian and African history have their place too, Egypt having a major impact on the series. All this keeps the series fresh for Pratchett’s legions of fans around the world; everybody can find a bit of their own culture in a Pratchett novel. His vastly populated world has now given him the excuse to tackle most themes and legends.

  Although some of the one-off stories do not seem to contribute to the great canvas of Discworld, they still pass relevant comment on our own society, giving a validity that is hard to criticise in the greater scheme of things. If one feels betrayed that one hasn’t seen a dragon in a Pratchett fantasy, one has to note that it is not necessary to see it. Pratchett’s books don’t always follow the traditional path of fantasy. But that’s where we miss the point slightly and that’s the whole point of this chapter: it is the characters who hold the key to what Pratchett wants to say. They are the ‘people’ who work out what each story is about, and they are the guides for the reader, which is why it is not important to read the books in sequence. However, if one does so, it will increase one’s enjoyment of the rich tapestry and hundreds of characters that make up the Discworld. (The same could also be said for the James Bond novels Pratchett read in his youth.) This correlates with the importance Pratchett gives to teenagers and their choices in his novels. Pratchett is genuinely interested in people, and he is inquisitive and broadminded enough to embrace many walks of life. That’s what we see in Ankh-Morpork: multi-cultures. There is no prejudice in Pratchett’s writing.

  I find the earlier novels in the Discworld series more revealing and consequently more enjoyable, especially when discussing the author. I love the way in which Esk de-sexes wizardry. I love the way Cohen the Barbarian and his entourage destroy the clichés of Robert E Howard (well, overused clichés since those stories were published). Let’s stop there for a moment, because it is interesting that great characters in literature continue long after their author’s death. It is almost as if nobody else has an original idea. Indeed, Conan the Barbarian had many other adventures after Howard’s premature death, and even TV’s original series of Star Trek finds immortality in novels that keep perpetuating its youth and legend.

  ‘Behind an ivory, gold-inlaid writing-table sat a man whose broad shoulders and sun-browned skin seemed out of place among those luxuriant surroundings. He seemed more a part of the sun and winds and high places of the outlands. His slightest movement spoke of steel-spring muscles knit to a keen brain with the coordination of a born fighting-man.’

  Robert E Howard (The Phoenix on the Sword)

  In fairness, the imagery of Howard’s world was so strong and sexually charged, it influenced artwork and films, let alone its chosen genre, for ever after.

  ‘The woman on the horse reined in her weary steed. It stood with its legs wide-braced, its head drooping… The woman drew a booted foot out of the silver stirrup and swung down from the gilt-worked saddle. She made the reins fast to the fork of a sapling, and turned about, hands on her hips, to survey her surroundings.’

  Robert E Howard (Red Nails)

  Suddenly we witness Druellae or Liessa from The Colour of Magic (see The Discworld Graphic Novels, Doubleday, 2008), overtly sexual but tired of the clichés of their gender all the same. Druellae and Liessa may be small characters but they are at the hub of what Pratchett wanted to say with the whole book. It is iconoclastic and similar to what Spike Milligan would do later when rewriting the Bible:

  ‘And God said, Let there be light; and there was light, but Eastern Electricity Board said He would have to wait until Thursday to be connected.

  … And God saw the light and it was good; He saw the quarterly bill and that was not good.’

  Spike Milligan (The Bible: The Old Testament According to Spike Milligan)

  The speculation of gods and the people who make the Discworld are of great importance to its mythology. They should
grow in the reader’s mind in order to forge a fuller understanding. When Rincewind takes Eric back to the beginning of time – where the Disc is created and sent into space – aiming at something? – there is one of the creators who, like Slartibartfast in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, is just one of the award-winning specialists who made the world. One cannot but suspect that there is a nod towards Douglas Adams there. There is nothing wrong with this – Pratchett has been parodying and thanking writers throughout his career as a novelist – but it is interesting that both Pratchett and Adams shared the same sideways look at life. Many people make a comparison between the writers and they are right to do so. Is there a synergy there, a deeper understanding? No, maybe not – maybe it’s an admission that whatever craziness they come up with in regard to life, the universe and everything, it won’t be as fantastic or way-out and whimsical as the truth, and what is the truth?

  Quite!

  ‘“Hello, Slartibartfast,” said Arthur at last.

  “Hello, Earthman,” said Slartibartfast.

  “After all,” said Ford, “we can only die once.”’

  Douglas Adams (Life, the Universe and Everything)

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Grooving with a Pict

  ‘… Being Found Drunk, Being Found Very Drunk, Using Offensive Language (taking into account ninety-seven counts of Using Language That Was Probably Offensive If Anyone Else Could Understand It), Committing a Breach of the Peace, Malicious Lingering…’

  (Some of the charges against the Nac Mac Feegle in The Wee Free Men)

  We first meet the Nac Mac Feegle in The Wee Free Men (Doubleday, 2003). They are small blue Pictsies (not Pixies) with bright red hair, who wear kilts and like drinking and fighting. In fact they were thrown out of Fairyland for being drunk and disorderly, but endear themselves to a young girl called Tiffany Aching, who is a witch in the making.

  Armed with a frying pan and the Nac Mac Feegle, Tiffany enters Fairyland to reclaim her cry-baby younger brother from the Queen of the Fairies. This is a time-honoured fantasy: the elder sister – still juvenile herself – has to fight the frustrations of enduring a younger brother and battle the forces of evil to save him because he is her brother. This is Labyrinth. It has elements of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It even has shades of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland in its offhand vignettes mustered by dromes (sentinels that propel you into a dream, and dreams within dreams) that trap you and subject you to surreal possibilities. The frustrations of Tiffany Aching are not dissimilar to those of Alice in her wonderland. Another connection is her age and inexperience, but that inexperience is also her strength and saviour as she battles a mature foe with the sharpness and temerity of youth.

  This same juvenile inexperience tinged with passion to do the right thing is echoed in Neil Gaiman’s Coraline, where the unprepared girl is pitted against sadistic parent alter egos. It’s present again in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (the novel by L Frank Baum), where the young girl battles her way home from a fantastical dream world – quite extreme in my opinion.

  Another strong theme tackled in The Wee Free Men is used by Clive Barker in The Thief of Always, where a month in the parallel world is a lifetime in the real world (Pratchett first uses this in a more subtle way in Eric). Pratchett embraces all of this because ultimately he is challenging the heart of Neverland. Peter Pan wants us all to stay with him, again, in a world where the adults are the bad guys and the youngsters are the good. Is this theme endemic to the fantasy genre? No, it was played out skilfully by Charles Dickens throughout his career, perhaps most expertly in Oliver Twist. The children are the good, the adults are the evil, but the good can be corrupted by the evil. But there are guardian angels who provide shades of grey – Mr Brownlow in Oliver Twist, Nancy still a child in the same novel – and who can save the children and steer them onto the right path. Dickens taught us that it is important to have the light as well as the darkness, but the Brothers Grimm didn’t see it that way (nor did Frank L Baum).

  The fantasy genre was born in folklore, and nowhere more obviously than in the basic story threads Pratchett tackles in The Wee Free Men, but like all his stories, he brings an element – a very amusing element – to the story that is nothing but undiluted original lunacy: the Nac Mac Feegle themselves. As usual he plays with names, making the poet McGonagall immortal in the equally terrible mouse-pipes player William the Gonnagle (a gonnagle is the clan’s bard and battle poet). Then there is Rob Anybody, Big Yan, Daft Wullie and Not-as-big-as-Medium-Sized-Jock-but-bigger-than-Wee-Jock-Jock.* These are tragic characters if we believe the boy Roland (who is trapped in Fairyland). He explains that if the Queen is very cross with you, she will stare at you and turn you into something terrible, but he could only draw you how terrible by having a lot of ‘red and purple crayons’. The very colours of the Nac Mac Feegle? Well, nearly: they are essentially red and blue.

  Gonnagles don’t spend all their time in the same clan. They move around among clans, making sure the songs and stories get spread around to other Nac Mac Feegle.

  Because of its close proximity to a traditional fairy story, The Wee Free Men is sometimes referred to as a children’s tale within the Discworld series. Indeed, it is light and humorous and deals with some traditional themes, and the Nac Mac Feegle are delightfully violent in an endearing way. But I would challenge a later book in the series, I Shall Wear Midnight, which tackles more adult themes, as not really being a children’s novel (adopting the label ‘young adult’ instead). In that sense The Wee Free Men trilogy betrays its younger readers by its series growing up too quickly. The three books do not form a comfortable Johnny and the Bomb-type trilogy. Pratchett doesn’t set his sights so narrowly, which raises the question: did the publisher insist upon a Discworld book for young adults to begin with? It matters little now, but the important thing to remember is that, unlike the Johnny and the Bomb trilogy, The Wee Free Men trilogy is part of a bigger series – Discworld – and the momentum of that series brings other sub-themes and legends into play, diluting the humour and creating further opportunities for expansion along the way.

  Going back to the Queen of Fairyland, her porcelain features – so perfect and white – take on an ice-queen quality from The Chronicles of Narnia, but then Pratchett informs us of her bright red lips and suddenly vampire-like themes are suggested. The Queen – not unlike the terrible sweet-sucking child she has kidnapped – is spoilt and selfish, and again there are shades of Narnia with Edmund, his Turkish delight and his anger at his siblings. And just like the children in Narnia, Tiffany Aching grows up quickly to thwart her foe.

  Many of Pratchett’s main characters are endearing because of their innocence. Tiffany, in a similar way to Rincewind, is not convinced of her magical powers, but she grows to understand that they are there within her. Rincewind had to conjure the magic within himself in The Light Fantastic and Tiffany is forced to do a similar thing – eventually – spurred on by her little blue friends who crave chaos. In one memorable scene they stay in a very dangerous dream to drink the place dry, having gone to the lengths of taking off the tartan and wearing dinner suits to get at the food and drink. ‘I’ve been facing the Queen and you’ve been in a pub?’Tiffany exclaims in one outburst.

  But she has grown, she has taken responsibility, she has come to terms with her own powers and become more of the person she is capable of being, away from the comfort of childhood. And that’s the important part of the story: the magic within her is her inner self waking up, not real hocus-pocus magic but a more adult perception. More of her adult mind is showcased when her young brother says ‘Big fishy!’ when seeing a whale for the first time. Tiffany corrects him like an adult, telling him that it is a common mistake but the whale is actually a mammal.

  The updating of the child-snatching Queen of the Fairies/King of the Goblins scenario was another great success for Pratchett, but when Tiffany began to understand how she must earn her pointy witch’s hat, it became obvious tha
t Pratchett would follow up his tale of Tiffany and the Nac Mac Feegle. A Hat Full of Sky (2004) arrived the very next year; just like Rincewind, Tiffany Aching had an instant sequel. This continuation of a series – or sub-series – within Discworld shows Pratchett’s enthusiasm for continuing with a winning set of characters. There’s something obsessive about his behaviour in the way he wants to follow a train of thought through to its natural conclusion – if it has one – which may explain why the Nac Mac Feegle have turned up quite often since.* Four times in seven years is a good average. But they’re great fun, as A Hat Full of Sky continues to show, poking fun at time-honoured scenarios and classic imagery (such as witches having remedies for farmhouses falling on them – very Wizard of Oz).

  A Hat Full of Sky is a more reserved book than The Wee Free Men. It’s more thought-provoking and looks in more depth into the characters and the hidden worlds and secrets of the Nac Mac Feegle. Throughout the first hundred pages, the Nac Mac Feegle do nothing outrageous. Rob Anybody marries a Kelda of his own race – not Tiffany Aching – although the Kelda demands that Tiffany is protected against a dangerous Hiver (entity) that is stalking her.

  Witness Strata followed by The Colour of Magic. The good idea of the Discworld was quickly built upon.

  It is clear through the first book that Tiffany needed to learn more about her latent powers and the art of becoming a witch, so A Hat Full of Sky is an exploration of this learning process. Because the book is slower and less humorous than its predecessor, I would suggest that it is less likely to keep children riveted to the page. What works best about the Nac Mac Feegle is their ability to cause chaos and still find time to misbehave even further while doing so. They are not unlike the household pet that does something stupid or mildly rude in polite company.