Discworld Books 9-12, by Terry Pratchett

When Terry Pratchett died a couple of months ago, I had only reviewed the first eight of his Discworld books. It is mild consolation that we still have over thirty to get through before the end, and I hope we can still do justice to this late, great writer. Previous instalments of the Discworld review were published in September 2014, and January 2015, while this time around we get Eric, Moving Pictures, Reaper Man, and Witches Abroad. Enjoy, and hopefully you will have cause to pick up these books time and again.

9: Eric

Definitely the shortest Discworld, and one of the strangest. The last time we saw Rincewind the Wizzard (sic) he wound up trapped in the Lovecraftian^TM Dungeon Dimensions, doomed to spend the rest of his existence running in terror from unimaginable horrors (the sort of unimaginable horrors that were all too easy to imagine). The next thing he knows, this unqualified and inept wizard finds himself back on the Disc, accidentally summoned by a thirteen year old boy called Eric – who thought he was getting a demon so that his three wishes can be made true. He doesn’t want much; just to live forever, meet the most beautiful woman who had ever lived, and to rule the world. Unfortunately for Rincewind it turns out he CAN give Eric everything he desired, finding himself unwillingly dragged along for the ride.

          Like the previous Rincewind book, Eric does not quite have the finesse of other Discworlds. The humour is fleeting and not so greatly developed, the story doesn’t really go anywhere, and Rincewind himself is still not that engaging as far as Discworld protagonists go – although the Luggage is back to something of its old style, a homicidal item of furniture on legs which shows up just to wreak havoc and sometimes inadvertently save the day. There are a few nice gags placed here or there throughout the story, and Pratchett’s version of Hell is well worth a look-in, even if the story and characters feel a little light.

          So Eric then? While it’s short and not especially memorable, and feels more like Douglas Adams on a bad day than a bona fide Discworld story, it does have its good moments and can be happily enjoyed over a slow weekend. The reason it is so short is that it was originally published with illustrations, though I have never actually laid eyes on such a copy. It must be rare, or something.

10. Moving Pictures

Pratchett’s most tried-and-tested formula is this: dump a modern concept or institution into his pseudo-medieval fantasy world and watch as the none-too-bright inhabitants take such a concept to its logical, ludicrous conclusion. Moving Pictures is one of the first Discworld books to go whole-hog with this idea, when a chance discovery at the Alchemists’ Guild, helped by the machinations of an ancient malign force bent on twisting reality out of shape, results in the invention of octo-cellulose – in short, the Movies. In true Discworld fashion, cameras don’t mess around with such mundane things as light-exposure, but rather they make dozens of tiny imps speed-paint everything they see, creating the first silent films. The early history of the movie industry is played out for laughs as hapless people from Ankh-Morpork, uncertain as to why they want to, flock to the dunes of Holy Wood hill to fulfil their dreams of becoming movie stars.

          As far as these books go, Moving Pictures is a fairly competent average in the series – not exactly one of the best or most memorable, but far is it from being a bad example. It tells a relatively good story, and it has fun doing so. The characters are decent, old faces from previous instalments showing up to fill new jobs in the budding movie industry, while the main roles are occupied by a few new, memorable faces. Victor Tugelbend, a perpetual student at the Unseen University, starts off memorable as a man who puts an inordinate amount of effort into living a care-free life, but alas his character gets a little watered-down as the plot trundles along. The supporting cast of Ginger, the prima donna of all of two months, and Gaspode the talking dog (or rather, talking street-mutt with fleas – the canine equivalent of Corporal Nobby Nobbs) give this book a little more to hold onto. It is Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler, however, who steals the show – small-time street vendor and purveyor of unsanitary sausages first seen in Guards! Guards!, Dibber almost instantly manages to take over the movie studio with his panache for marketing, and his ability to make movies by designing the poster and tag-lines beforehand. C.M.O.T. Dibbler is one of Pratchett’s staple characters, popping up time and again throughout the series, and so to see him in this faintly villainous role is a rewarding and hilarious treat.

          But if there’s one thing that puts Moving Pictures in a most noteworthy spot in the series’ canon, then it’s because here we see the very first outing of some of the most wonderful characters Pratchett has to offer; the faculty of the Unseen University. The Dean, the Lecturer in Recent Runes, the Chair of Indefinite Studies, the Senior Wrangler, the Bursar, and not to forget the new and now permanent Archchancellor, Mustrum Ridcully; a group of elderly, overweight wizards who spend their time debating and bickering over the smallest, least-relevant  issues. In previous instalments, the wizards of the Unseen University went through several bloody changes of leadership, and I like to imagine that by this stage it is simply the most useless, bumbling individuals who have been left standing. Whatever the case may be, these blokes are here to stay, and their incredible tangents and side-plots to the main story will result in some of the most entertaining scenarios Pratchett has ever written, and I look forward to experiencing it all over again. Moving Pictures is good, and if you’re a fan of the wizards then it’s an absolute must.

11. Reaper Man

Death is one of the most original characters in this series. I say this in full knowledge that he is quite unambiguously lifted from medieval folk tales and art, has been used time and again in stories, music and film. He is a near God-like entity, often referred to by his title the ‘grim reaper’, but something that Pratchett has done to him is to give this all-so-familiar character a personality and depth that far outweighs many other literary creations. Death is no mere parody. He is the sort of being who would exist in a more perfect world.

In this book we witness the arrival of a group of villains who seem to be the very antithesis of what the Discworld is all about. The Auditors of Reality, faceless grey-robed celestial beings who lack all notion of a separate identity, and who despise all life, all creativity, all personality, as chaotic and unorganised, ruining the perfect order and tidiness of the universe. Naturally, they really hate the Discworld and its inhabitants. Having noticed that Death has developed something of a personality, something of a sense of interest and compassion to the living beings of the Disc, the Auditors contrive to have Death dismissed – making him mortal, and banishing him to the Disc. As one who has spent eternity as a reaper, Death signs on at a farm and attempts to spend his newly-granted ‘time’ as best he can.

But without Death, the Discworld quickly falls into chaos. The faculty of the Unseen University quickly find this out, when their esteemed 130 year-old colleague Windle Poons gets up after his own demise, and refuses to act like a respectable corpse ought to. Windle Poons, after obligingly allowing the faculty to bury him under the busiest street in Ankh-Morpork, sets off to find a purpose in his newly found un-death, while the remaining wizards try their best to work out why random objects are moving of their own accord, why there are hundreds of little snow-globes popping into existence in dark spaces, and why there’s now a serious infestation of trolleys zooming around the city and causing havoc.  

Reaper Man is one of the best books in the series. The rather odd and sombre moments of Death filling his new role as a reaper are juxtaposed with the second outing of Archchancellor Ridcully and his faculty of wizards, who are without doubt the most brilliant group of characters ever to be found in a novel. These old men bicker over the smallest and least-relevant issues at stake. The Bursar is gradually losing his mind thanks to the Archchancellor, the Archchancellor’s swear-words are turning into bug-like flying creatures while the Dean, upon discovering that he is allowed to blow things up, gets quite carried away with excitement and can’t pass up an opportunity to say ‘Yo!’ in every sentence.  They crack me up every time, and it’s never a dull moment when they’re around. So yes, this is a pretty good instalment in the series, so definitely add it to your collection if you get the chance.

12. Witches Abroad

The third instalment of Granny Weatherwax’s sub-series, or the second since she acquired her fellow witches as co-stars. Magrat, the youngest and most naive of the three witches, has inherited the role of a fairy God-mother to a princess in the far away fairy-tale kingdom of Genua. Along with Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg, the three witches leave their home of Lancre and journey across the Disc, where they aim to sort out all of the sinister fairy-tale occurrences that have been going on lately, by confronting the ‘Good’ fairy God-mother Lilith who will resort to any evil in order to bring about a ‘Happily Ever After’ style ending.

          Another middling Discworld book, this one has the same subject-matter and targets of humour as Wyrd Sisters, poking fun at fairy tales in general but also subverting the genre, asking questions such as whether the princess really does want to marry the prince, or even should she. There are some potent moments of storytelling here, times when the story gets a tad dark and gripping as it builds up to a rather tense climax. The trade-mark Pratchett humour is working very well underneath this all, and the notion of Greebo (Nanny Ogg’s evil cat) being granted human form provides many of the most entertaining sequences near the end of the book. Along with this, we get decent chemistry within the witch-group themselves, when Granny and Magrat argue and bicker, Nanny Ogg in the middle, providing good character-development for what had already been three well-constructed protagonists.

          This particular part of the series you would be better off reading if you had already met the witches before. It’s not one of the absolute strongest Discworlds, but it works well enough and is entertaining to say the least.

A few concluding remarks. The best book this time around was Reaper Man, winning hands-down. Death is clearly the iconic character of the series, and to have him juxtaposed with Ridcully and the wizards has yielded some spectacular results. Moving Pictures is another good thing to read, while fans of Rincewind will find Eric indispensible. Lastly, Witches Abroad gives us once again the great characters of the witches, while demonstrating Pratchett’s growing devotion to the idea of individual character-sagas. All in all, each one is good, and if you have a sense of humour and a soul then you find something worthwhile here. I cannot recommend the Discworld series highly enough. Rest in peace, Sir Terry.

Biblioworld 3

Pratchett, Terry. Eric. Victor Gallancz/Corgi. (1991 [First Published 1990])

Pratchett, Terry. Moving Pictures. Corgi. (1991 [First Published 1990])

Pratchett, Terry. Reaper Man. Corgi. (1992 [First Published 1991])

Pratchett, Terry. Witches Abroad. Corgi. (1992 [First Published 1991])