Science Fiction Reviews
Reviewed on this page Night Watch (Terry Pratchett),The Last
Hero (Terry Pratchett and Paul Kidby), The Amazing Maurice and his
Educated Rodents(Terry Pratchett),Nanny Ogg's Cookbook (Terry
Pratchett, Stephen Briggs, Tina Hannan, Paul Kidby),Thief of Time,The
Truth, The Last Continent (Terry Pratchett),
Doomsday Book (Connie
Willis), THE SCIENCE OF DISCWORLD III DARWIN'S WATCH (Terry
Pratchett, Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen), Thud!(Terry Pratchett),
Wintersmith (Terry Pratchett),
NIGHT WATCH
by Terry Pratchett
ISBN 0-385-60264-2
364 pages
Doubleday
November 1 2002
$45.00
reviewed by Denise Wels
Some years have passed since Terry Pratchett was awarded his OBE - four, in fact. In that time he has produced yet more of his extremely popular Discworld novels. One wonders if, perhaps, his honours might be due for an upgrade! Certainly his readership, both at home and abroad, hence his monetary value to Britain, must likewise be increasing.
Discworld first saw the light reflected from the back of the Giant Tortoise, the Great A'Tuin, with the publication of The Colour Of Magic and The Light Fantastic. Since then, Discworld, like other worlds, has felt the impact of evolution. Unlike our own planet, that evolution has not been of the Darwinian kind but of writing style. The first Discworld narratives poked gentle fun at our terran institutions such as tourism, insurance, religion (the wonderful Small Gods) Hollywood (Moving Pictures) and many other (dare I say it?) icons of Terra. I had noted with some interest the apparent loss of the innocence of that incredible Disc in latter works such as The Truth and Thief of Time where the reader actually encounters swearing - or the substitute, but we know what asterisks mean, don't we! - and a rather darker side of both the author and his world than in, say, Witches Abroad. A friend to whom I had introduced the Discworld books tut-tutted at this one, saying she did not like the violence in it. Huh? There was violence a-plenty in the earlier books but I suppose it is fair to say that it did not seem quite as real as in Night Watch.
Commander Sam Vimes is uneasy. He has had to forgo the dubious pleasures of the real work of being a Watchman, namely, patrolling the streets and meeting the real villains. Add to that, his wife, Sybil, is about to give birth. It is also an important anniversary. Sam and various older members of the Watch pluck sprigs of lilac to wear in memory of one of their fallen comrades from many years past. Then Sam finds himself caught up in the pursuit of a criminal - the wicked Carcer. Sam tackles Carcer in the Library of Unseen University during a storm and the combination of electrical and magical fields sends the two back in time. Sam is wounded, nearly naked, very ashamed, and in a past where the rules of modern Ankh-Morpork no longer apply. Why, thieves don't leave receipts for the goods they steal!
Sam manages to get himself appointed Sergeant-At-Arms in his beloved Night Watch after having met a strange order of monks who are able to control Time and with whom lies his only hope of returning to his own era. He is determined to bring Carcer to justice and return to Sybil and his as yet unborn baby. His task is made very complicated because there is a plot afoot to rid the city of its current Patrician and install a new, albeit no better successor, Lord Snapcase. Vimes has to take on the persona of his old sergeant, John Keel, as he attempts to restore what passes for order in Ankh-Morpork.
Carcer penetrates the ranks of the Night Watch's daylight counterpart and, of course, infiltrates the evil sector of that far from decent community. He, of course, is determined to rid the world - and every Time - of Sam Vimes and therefore insinuates himself into the group of conspirators. Eventually, despite all of Vimes' stratagems for a non-violent confrontation, a rebellion breaks out and much blood is spilled.
In this dark but excellent and, as is customary with Pratchett's Discworld novels, chapterless book we meet the younger versions of well-known and well-loved denizens of the 'present day' Ankh-Morpork. Young Sam Vimes, a lance-constable(!) becomes the protégé of Sergeant Keel and we meet Nobby Nobbs as a boy as well as Reg Shoe (before he becomes a zombie), Mr. Slant the lawyer, Vetinari as a very young yet very accomplished Assassin, Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler (before he acquires that sobriquet) and many others. Death, too, puts in a brief appearance. I was interested to note that the wonderful Josh Kirby was not the artist for the jacket, packing the entire story into his busy illustration. Instead, Pratchett's other collaborator, Paul Kidby, provides the front cover illustration in cooperation with Rembrandt who monopolises the back jacket.
There is far less overt humour in this account than in Pratchett's previous oeuvres even including the latter, less light hearted tales. To my mind, this does not detract from the excellent qualities previously displayed by the author. I felt that perhaps Mr. Pratchett was sickened by the corruption and convoluted politics (including that which has caused the term 'friendly fire' to enter our vocabulary) extant in our world and was attempting to strike a blow against what may be perceived as rampant evil abroad.
THE LAST HERO
by Terry Pratchett
illustrated by Paul Kidby
Gollancz London
ISBN 0-575-06885-X
$45.00
November 2 2001
reviewed by Denise Wels
As anyone who has had a wander over this page may have realised by now, I am partial to a morsel of Pratchett before retiring at night. Or with my lunch. Or even with breakfast. In fact, any time is a damn good time to devour some Discworld. Terry Pratchett has been delighting his readers for many years now with his books in which he presents a distorted reflection of our own Terra in the entity of the fantastic Discworld universe. Just in case there is a reader out there who is not aware of the singular circumstances surrounding the world, Discworld is carried on the back of four elephants which are, in turn, supported on the shell of the giant tortoise, the Great A'Tuin. The Discworld novels, in turn, are supported on the back of gentle satire together with vast amounts of humour.
The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic introduced now avid fans of that unique world to the glories existing there. The cowardly and not very magical wizard (or wizzard, as was later seen to be emblazoned on his pointy hat) Rincewind experienced great adventures in those first two books, reappeared in some later works, such as The Last Continent but his appearances tapered to nothingness in more recent books such as The Truth and The Thief of Time. Pratchett's style of writing likewise evolved over the series : the first narratives had a sort of innocence which altered to an almost sniggering knowingness of late. The Last Hero finds Rincewind playing a great role as well as revealing a return to the more innocent style of writing. In view of this latter fact, I found myself wondering if Pratchett had written the piece early in his career but since it was too short by itself for a book, held onto it until a suitable opportunity presented itself.
Paul Kidby has taken part with Pratchett in many happy collaborations since his own discovery of the Discworld in 1993 (most recently The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents) and has perhaps given fans of the covers illustrated by the great Josh Kirby a perception of the denizens of Discworld as suffering a degree of multiple personality disorder. Whatever. Whether the reader thought he/she could not possibly imagine Rincewind as other than the terrified, white haired and bearded fleeing person pursued by the terrifying multi-legged Luggage, no doubt he/she will be able to have her/his imagination expanded to include the rather younger, and more cowed looking, Rincewind of the later artist.
This adventure begins right back in the, well, the beginning, when the hero Mazda stole fire from the gods (who now live in their home, Dunmanifestin, on top of the high mountain, Cori Celesti). Mazda was chained to a rock, as we all know, condemned to the eternal agony of having an eagle come to peck away at Mazda's liver during the daylight. Every day, that is, since the liver regenerated during the night. In the modern day a group of antique heroes bearing such delicious names as Truckle the Uncivil, Boy Willie, Mad Hamish et al. are led by the arch-hero himself, Genghiz Cohen the Barbarian, band together to perform one last valiant deed : to return fire to the gods in their own unique manner. On the way, the heroes kidnap a bard who is ordered to write a saga (and be sure to get the names right) and are also joined by formerly lusty Vena the Ravenhaired (whose hair is now rather white) and the Dark Lord, Evil Harry Dread. Of course, so many years after their careers of derring do the heroes now present rather a superannuated appearance - Cohen uses a walking stick in addition to his enormous sword and sometimes forgets where he has stowed his false teeth, and Mad Hamish is very deaf and has to be helped in his wheelchair - but all have doughty hearts, notwithstanding. Some of the heroes, such as Old Vincent the Ripper, who choked to death on a concubine (or was that a cucumber?) are merely there in memory rather than in person, but the gallant band of surviving heroes clings mightily to life.
Pratchett, as usual, pokes gentle fun at things of Terra -the genius, Leonard da Quirm has handwriting remarkably similar to that of Leonardo da Vinci, and his sketches also resemble the art of that long dead genius. Rincewind's landing on the Discworld Moon has some parallels with Earthman's own landing on the Terra-bound satellite The Luggage makes a brief appearance, as does Death. Many other characters from past Pratchett sagas also materialise.
While the narrative, when stripped of the art, could perhaps be classed
as a novella rather than a novel (I was too busy gulping the words to count
them) there is no doubt it is a worthy descendant of its predecessors.
As usual, the author/artist combination will leave their ravenous admirers
baying for more.
THE AMAZING MAURICE
and hiis
EDUCATED RODENTS
by Terry Pratchett
Doubleday
ISBN 0-385-60123-9
$29.95
November 2 2001
reviewed by Denise Wels
Best-selling British author, Terry Pratchett OBE, has written the very first Discworld novel aimed specifically at children. Of course many children have read and appreciated (though perhaps on a different level) Pratchett's adult Discworld books. After all, they contain every element much prized in children's tales: wizards, magic, talking dogs, dwarves, trolls, witches and so on. Of course, they also contain healthy dollops of satire which just might go over the heads of younger readers. But then again, perhaps not.
This novel is not so obviously of the Discworld as the author's non-juvenile fantasies. With a few minor modifications it might be seen as an extension of the world of The Carpet People , Truckers, Wings or Diggers but there are certainly characters and places that appear in the real Discworld in addition to new people created just for this adventure. The story is an inversion of the Pied Piper myth with references to fairy tales found in the annals of our very own spherical Terra. For example, the descendant of the Sisters Grim (Agonizer and Eviscera) Malicia, has a distinct aptitude for spinning yarns. Pratchett cannot restrain himself from poking sly (and not so sly) fun at Earthly stories such as Peter Rabbit, Dick Whittington and so on.
This account begins with a mail coach seemingly containing only one passenger, a stupid looking kid, approaching the town of Bad Blintz. The kid is reading aloud to himself but his pronunciation is being corrected by voices with no visible bodies. When the kid (we don't discover for quite a while that his name is Keith) arrives in the village, he and his hitherto unseen companions, a horde of rats, are given orders by their entrepreneurial organiser, talking cat the Amazing Maurice. They have been travelling through towns of Discworld perpetrating a scam. The rats infiltrate the towns, making verminous nuisances of themselves, then when the burghers are sick and tired of the plague, Keith shows up with his penny whistle and offers to rid the citizens of the rodents - for a price. The rats want to retire to an island which is the equivalent of Rat Heaven. Maurice has decided that they only need the money from one more set of victims before they can go their separate ways. But of course, something goes wrong.
The rats have been 'changed' because they lived on a rubbish pile outside Unseen University and ate something discarded by the wizards that practise there. The rats taught themselves to read using Mr. Bunnsy Has an Adventure. Mind, they realise that the adventures portrayed therein bear little relationship to reality - who ever heard of animals wearing clothes and talking to humans? - but they find the tome useful. The rats have wonderful names such as Sardines ( a tap dancing show business performer), Dangerous Beans (the albino rat genius), Darktan, Peaches and the nominal leader Hamnpork. How Maurice, the talking cat, came by his change is a mystery. One of his big modifications is that to ihs diet : he will not eat an animal if it can talk and he always makes sure he questions his meal before consuming it.
Like all good fairy tales, there is a very dark, frightening side to the narrative. Pratchett has researched his rats well and comes up with an incredible villain. Of course, what would a Discworld novel be without an appearance by Death? As a bonus, he is accompanied by Death of Rats.
All lovers of Discworld for grownups - don't hesitate. Go out and buy this work. If you are a parent, a parent-to-be or a grandparent, don't let this one get away. Your infant would wax exceeding wrothful were you to deprive him/her of this treat!
NANNY OGG'S COOKBOOK
Terry Pratchett, Stephen Briggs,
Tina Hannan, Paul Kidby
Corgi
ISBN 0-552-14673-0
$24.35
November 2 2001
reviewed by Denise Wels
Even the denizens of Discworld need to eat -the corporeal ones, that is. Naturally it is important that the kinds of food and its preparation be recorded and who could be found more suitable than one of the planet's most famous diners and outstanding witches, Nanny Gytha Ogg? Since Terry Pratchett's now famous Discworld series became immensely popular, products other than straight novels have proliferated. What avid fan of the world that is carried on the back of four elephants in turn supported on the shell of the giant space-faring turtle the Great A'Tuin, would be without The Streets of Ankh-Morpork or A Tourist's Guide to Lancre? Graphic novels are in abundance, there are plays, a couple of movies and now - Nanny Ogg's Cookbook.
A running gag involves letters between the publisher and the overseer (whatever that may be) concerning the literary (and other) merit of the work of Nanny Ogg. Apparently they had encountered two of the witch's previous books, one of which, The Joye of Snacks was banned while the other, Mother Ogg's Tales for Tiny Folk had to be withdrawn. Financial constraints force the production of this oeuvre but the laughter of the publisher's wife decides just what is fit to print.
Nanny Ogg does provide recipes (per courtesy of Tina Hannan and Stephen Briggs) and the genuine ones are not bad. No doubt true Discworld aficionados will be disappointed that Dwarf Bread, as given in the featured recipe, is unsuitable to be a construction material and the Drop Scones of the book are unlikely to kill any dwarfish enemies on which they are dropped but no doubt the amount of garlic in such delights as Genuine Howondaland Curry or Sergeant Angua's Vegetable Stew with Dumplings would serve the same purpose. Mind, I found myself particularly attracted to Rincewind's Potato Cakes and in the desserts, Sticky Toffee Rat Onna Stick and Chocolate Delight with Special Secret Sauce are, well, yummy.
What cookbook would be complete without illustrations? Certainly not Nanny Ogg's, but they are vastly different from those of, say that of a Margaret Kirkwood. Paul Kidby has decorated this book with portraits of various characters from Discworld (but be warned, those of you who found the animations of the Discworld movies not according to your fancy, these people -and Death and Death of Rats- are the same as those of the movies rather than those of Josh Kirby). There are no photographs of delectable dishes (unless the cook finds himself turned on by pictures of Nanny and her friend Granny Weatherwax).
There are reflections of a countrywoman, as personified by the redoubtable Nanny Ogg, on such things as Philosophy of Cookery and Etiquette (but be warned, the Language of Flowers has been censored). Little bits and pieces of genuine information, such as why knights are dubbed with a sword, are diluted with Discworld Lore but are still informative and amusing.
Whether
you are a cook looking for a few good recipes or a Discworld completist,
not wanting to let anything get away, you should be pleased with this book.
Oh, just one word of warning - not one skerrick of octarine is used in
the recipes!
THIEF OF TIME
by Terry Pratchett
Doubleday
ISBN 0-385-60188-3
$45.00
May 4 2001
reviewed by Denise Wels
A drum roll, please, to announce the release of Terry Pratchett's new Discworld novel (the twenty-sixth, I believe, though I ran out of fingers and toes some time ago), The Thief of Time.
Terry Pratchett wrote his first short story, The Hades Business, when he was thirteen and saw it published commercially when he was fifteen. Not surprising, then, that he became a journalist since if one wishes to spend one's time writing it is just as well to earn a crust thereby. Notwithstanding the exigencies of wordsmithing to earn a living, Pratchett still found time to write for pleasure and The Carpet People, which he originally wrote when a teenager, was eventually published in 1971 although later revised and re-published.
In 1982 the first Discworld novel, The Colour of Magic, was published and despite the poor marketing, garnered an interested following. It was succeeded by The Light Fantastic, the sequel that also featured Rincewind the incompetent wizard, Twoflower, the very first Discworld tourist, and the inimitable Luggage.
It was not until 1987 that the author decided to forgo the munificent rewards of being a press (or was it possibly a suppression of publicity?) officer to concentrate on writing full time and since he has been acknowledged as Britain's top selling author despite being confined to a genre, it is just as well for the world of readers.
Thief of Time is about Time in various forms. The Monks of History (who control the Procrastinators insofar as those entities can be controlled) manage Time, transferring it from where it is not being used to where it is necessary, or even slicing time in order, for example, to make one second into a full personal day, and their work is threatened when it becomes obvious that someone is building a Truly Accurate Clock, the crystal clock. The successful completion of the clock will bring life in the Discworld universe to an end.The building of the clock is being done at the behest of the Auditors, non-physical entities who like the world to be orderly, and how can that be achieved when Time is allowed to run rampant alongside all those ungovernable humans? One Auditor, Lady LeJean, has wrapped herself in a body to commission the building of the clock and to oversee its progress.
Miss Susan, a schoolteacher who just happens to be the granddaughter of Death (well, Discworld genetics are not like Earthian genetics) is enlisted by her illustrious forebear to prevent the completion of the clock being built by foundling Jeremy Clockson while Death himself tries to enthuse the other three Horsemen of the Apocalypse to Ride Out. Oh yes, and the Fifth Horseman decides to take a hand in it, too. The Death of Rats is much in evidence throughout the story, just to complete the happy family.
Nanny Ogg alone of the Discworld witches features in this adventure, in her capacity as Discworld's most talented and capable midwife. The author expounds his own view of the problems of reincarnation (the Abbott of the History Monks has not even reached toddlerhood in his current incarnation). Lu Tze, the most accomplished of the monks, who is simply a sweeper, takes on an apprentice, Lobsang Ludd, the former foundling thief who has a strange affinity with and knowledge of Time.
One could draw the
conclusion from reading this book that Mr. Pratchett is a closet and unwilling
chocaholic. One could also draw the conclusion that he is a most gifted
writer. If any reader stumbles on Thief of Time in a first
encounter with Mr. Pratchett's work, he should treat himself to a few weeks
utter bliss by rounding up the earlier works as well and reading them from
start to finish. I do wish Time could be telescoped so I could read the
next Discworld novel now not later!
THE TRUTH
by Terry Pratchett
Doubleday
ISBN 0-385-60102-6
RRP $43.85
released December 2000 reviewed by Denise Wels
The Truth is crime fiction, despite other people, perhaps, categorising it as fantasy or even (perish the thought) as satire: there's a lot of crime in Ankh-Morpork. Just ask Commander Vimes of the Watch.
This tale of hideous malfeasance and baffling mystery is Pratchett's twenty-fifth excursion into Discworld, which is supported by four elephants which are themselves carried on the ancient shell of the turtle. the Great A'Tuin.
Since Pratchett's Big Bang Brainwave of 1983 produced The Colour of Magic, Discworld has evolved. The Colour of Magic and its sequel, The Light Fantastic depicted a world of strange naivete, as though set in Discworld's version of Eden. Since Rincewind, the incompetent wizard, and Twoflower, the very first tourist, set off on their journeys, the inhabitants and stories have, well, coarsened. It is not as though an angel with a flaming sword has driven Discworld out of Eden, nothing so sudden and dramatic: it is more as though the Great A'Tuin has begun to swim through murkier depths in the 'distant and second-hand set of dimensions' in which it flourishes.
Twoflower was a total innocent and Rincewind was only slightly less guileless. In this new Discworld people smoke cigarettes and swear (well, at least the baddies say '-ing' a lot). There is far less magic (although the Unseen University and some of its denizens do get a mention in this episode) and more nastiness , for want of a better word, proliferates. Discworld has become a great deal more like Earth than a parody thereof.
I am not trying to say I dislike the new and upgraded version of
Discworld, just that it is different from the way it was. The author has,
both gently and not so gently, poked fun at all kinds of institutions,
from Hollywood (in Moving Pictures) to Heaven ( or religion and
the priesthood, at any rate, in Small Gods.) Things have become
far more knowing on this eccentric world since the Luggage chased after
Rincewind and Twoflower. Pratchett has even squeezed in the odd dirty joke
or two, unthinkable in The Colour of Magic.
This extract of Discworld's history concerns itself with the invention of printing and the subsequent development of journalism and newspapers (including the Gutter Press). William de Worde, scion of a noble house, has refused to follow the traditions of his forefathers (and deceased elder brother) and has instead set himself up in Ankh-Morpork as a writer of monthly letters to various Important People, detailing interesting events that have occurred in the metropolis.
William literally falls amongst Gunilla Goodmountain and his troop of dwarfs (sic... they are very different from Snow White's dwarves) who, contrary to the previous edict of Lord Vetinari, the Patrician, have set up a printing press. William is fascinated by the ease and swiftness with which the dwarfs can print his newsletter and finds himself printing a daily newspaper.
Sacharissa, the daughter of William's former engraver, comes to berate the newly created journalist, but stays as his assistant. There is a lovely description of her very first society column. Of course, it is not long before the Guilds decide they do not like the new practices and take action to try to destroy William and his cohorts.
Lord Vetinari sanctions William's work on condition that it produces nothing magical or occult that could have horrid consequences for the city, but is himself threatened. Certain crumbs of Ankh-Morpork's upper crust have hired two out of town thugs, Mr. Pin and art-loving Mr. Tulip to remove Vetinari's authority and install a new Patrician.
Many of the people of previous books (not the least is Cut Me Own Throat Dibbler) make welcome re-appearances but Pratchett has created several delicious new characters. I loved Otto, the temperate vampire iconographer who sticks to beverages other than the b word... singing songs and drinking cocoa in the vampiric version of Alcoholics Anonymous keeps him on the wagon. Gaspode, the talking dog (but everyone knows dogs can't talk) is a key player in solving the mystery, and Sergeant Angua, the Watch's very own werewolf falls prey to William. And I am pleased to be able to say that Death (and his smaller counterpart of rats) is also to be found in this outing.
A review of a Pratchett book would not be complete without a reference to Josh Kirby's marvellous covers. A close examination of the Discworld jackets disclose much of the narrative.
Pratchett, in his chapterless (or single chapter) novel has created another masterpiece of totally unbelievable characters who nonetheless strike an unnerving resonance with some of Earth's population. He is one of the very few authors I buy in hardback. I do wish he would write more than one book a year.
The Last Continent
by Terry Pratchett
Doubleday
copyright 1998
Terry Pratchett is one of the few authors whose work I scramble to buy when it is still only in hardcover. At $35 it could be seen as expensive (and of course, if the $A continues its downward crawl, it will become even more pricey). At present Pratchett's work may be found in the science fiction section of your local bookstore. He is not (yet) in the Litracha section. Still, I suppose Jonathan Swift would, in his day, have had Gulliver's Travels confined to the Fantasy section, if there was such a genre in those bygone times..
Until Pratchett wrote the first of his Discworld novels The Colour of Magicand The Light Fantastiche was seen solely as a children's writer. His first Discworld books poked only mild fun at the world: tourism and science primarily. Who can forget his iconograph, the Discworld equivalent of a camera, in which a little demon sits painting furiously until he completes a representation of the outside world? We first met Two Flowers the Tourist's Luggage, later generously bequeathed to a terrified Rincewind, in the first of the Discworld books. Just what the Luggage ( now opalised and coyly known as 'Trunkie' in The Last Continent) is meant to satirise I am not sure, unless Mr. Pratchett has ever observed my method of packing.
In the first few Discworld books there was no evidence at all of off-colour
humour: it was all Simon pure (who WAS this unlikely Simon?).As time has
progressed a little colour has been observed to redden Simon's formerly
alabaster cheeks.
Discworld is. as evidenced by its name, a flat disc perched atop four elephants which, in turn, stand at the edges of the shell of a giant turtle, the Great A'Tuin. The events taking place on the Discworld are somehow distorted (ever so slightly) reflections of what occurs on our traditionally spherical world.
Since the inception of Discworld, Pratchett has mocked Hollywood, feminism, universities, the army, the police, religion (one of my favourites is Small Gods ), Death, fairies and (as they say) much, much more. Now it is the turn of Australia, although there is a disclaimer from the publishers on the jacket of the book, announcing that 'Terry Pratchett would like it to be known that The Last Continentis not a book about Australia. It's just vaguely australian' (sic).
Briefly, the Unseen University (home of the wizards who educate promising students ... all male... in Magic) has a bigger problem than usual. Its Librarian has spent countless years in the form of an orang-utan (it was the leakage from the rampaging books of magic that transformed him from human seeming). Now his morphic field as well as his temporal lobe, has been damaged and every time he sneezes he is transformed into something else. The faculty of UU realises something has to be done about this dreadful state of affairs since, without their ultra-efficient Librarian who knows what will happen to their Library and its vast store of esoteric knowledge? One suggestion is that Rincewind, rogue and inept wizard (or Wizzard, as his pointy hat proclaims) knows the Librarian's True Name, knowledge of which might be able to help effect a cure.
The faculty ... Archchancellor Ridcully, Dean, Senior Wrangler, Chair of Indefinite Studies, Lecturer in Recent Runes, Ponder Stibbons (the youngest and most easily ignored, but most scientifically minded member of the Faculty) and the Bursar .... decide they must attempt to cure the Librarian. Inadvertently they travel to a beach which is located ten thousand years in the past. Mrs. Witlow, the University's housekeeper, follows them to the sunny island , but moves the wood keeping ajar the window linking them to the present. The wood has been clearly labeled 'Do not remove this wood. Not even to see what happens. IMPORTANT!' Thus the wizards (together with Mrs. Witlow) are stranded in the past, and Pratchett has a lovely time getting them to discuss some of the paradoxes indulged in by contemporary science fiction authors.
Rincewind, by a strange Discworld coincidence, is vaguely mislaid on the Last Continent of EcksEcksEcksEcks (Fourecks for short) where he is introduced to many arcane mysteries. He discovers that the locals know nothing about rain ... indeed, it is seen as highly improbable and were it to exist it would be downright dangerous! Everyone knows that water comes from underground.
The inept 'wizzard' has been shown how to survive on local food....strange twisted roots and crawly things that are found under rocks which, when cooked, taste exactly like chicken... by black people living on the continent. Then he is shown how to find the True Bush Tucker. He only has to look under rocks and behind bushes to find, for example, chicken sandwiches that taste like, of all things, chicken as well as unearthing...er, undiscworlding... a sponge delight coated with chocolate icing and dusted lightly with coconut flakes, as dessert. After all, he is told, he has to be kept fit and healthy for his quest to rescue the Unseen University's most illustrious members from the past. Not quite the sort of adventure on which Rincewind delights to embark. Rincewind never delights in embarking on any kind of adventure. Therefore Rincewind runs!
Rincewind, throughout his sporadic and peripatetic existence on the Discworld , has preserved his life (Death now only makes social visits to him, speaking, as always, in small upper case) by running. Very fast. He needs to do this constantly throughout this book. During his many escapes he becomes the swagman of Waltzing Matilda fame, invents Vegemite, hides in the Opera House (which reminds him of an open tissue box) is presented with a Pie Floater (Good Gods! Could Pratchett possibly be poking fun at Adelaide's own Gourmet Delight?), is responsible for the first Peach Nellie, encounters Discworld's equivalent of Priscilla Queen of the Desert and the Gay Mardigras (without realising that the magnificent large women with big feet and hands might not be female) and finally introduces rain to the long drought-stricken Last Continent.
The Faculty, in their attempts first, to return to Ankh-Morpok, but when they realise they are trapped in the past, to regain the present, meet their share of oddities. They encounter the god of Evolution, in whom Ponder Stibbons takes an inordinate interest and with whom even considers taking up an apprenticeship. And could it be that the wizards arguing in a highly charged magical field, are responsible for the creation of the duck billed platypus?
Then the wizards are cast up on the shores of the Last Continent as it is in the process of being created and more chaos ensues.
Mention of Terry Pratchett's work would not be complete without a reference to Josh Kirby's art. Kirby, in his (their?) delightfully manic depictions somehow manages to encapsulate almost all the action of Pratchett's novels ... no mean feat considering the amount of that action... on the dust jackets far more successfully than any written blurb. I wish I had some of his original art-work to hang on my walls!
I
have read American reviews of Pratchett's work which are disparaging in
the extreme. Well, Americans do have a DIFFERENT sense of humour, do they
not? For that matter, a True American would have to ridicule a book written
without any chapters. For my part, and on behalf of his very many loyal
Australian fans, I can only urge Pratchett to continue his relating of
the History of the Discworld. Lots of it. Soon.
DOOMSDAY BOOK
by Connie Willis
ISBN 1741141958
669 pages
A Sue Hines Book
Allen & Unwin
January 1 2005
$22.95
reviewed by Denise Pickles
December 31 2005
It's a fair old step from writing True Confessions to producing what could quite accurately be described as 'deathless prose' but former schoolteacher Connie Willis has made the considerable leap. Although DOOMSDAY BOOK bears the copyright date of 1992, there are only trifles that could distinguish the novel from something written today. Certainly the standard of the writing is considerably higher than much one could read with a 2004 copyright date.
DOOMSDAY BOOK is the first in a loose sequence of time travel novels set in Oxford. James Dunworthy belongs to the Twentieth Century department while Mediaeval's Gilchrist has wangled his own appointment as Acting Head of History while the department head is on holidays, reputed to be catching fish. Dunworthy is terrified that his own best student, Kivrin, will be injured when visiting the year 1320. Gilchrist has managed to take the year off the forbidden list for time travellers and is voraciously hungry for the information Kivrin will be able to bring back from that time.
In the interests of verisimilitude, Kivrin is physically injured before she leaves the twenty-first century. Her cover story for anyone who finds her is that she was waylaid by robbers and a blow to the head has caused her to lose her memory. An unforeseen complication is that she is infected with influenza, despite her inoculations, so that she is extremely ill on her arrival in the past. By the same token, modern day Oxford sees an epidemic of the same infection after her departure. Dunworthy's friend, Doctor Mary Ahrens, is expecting her great nephew Colin to arrive in Oxford on Christmas Eve and he does not disappoint - despite quarantine restrictions.
Kivrin finds her translator inadequate for its task until she has been in the past for some time. She is in a noble's household and becomes intimately bound up with the fate of the residents. Her especial concerns are the two young daughters, five year-old Agnes and twelve year-old Rosemund and the priest, Father Roche who she at first mistakes for a cutthroat.
Dunworthy attempts to help preserve order in the panicking Oxford population, augmented by a troupe of American bellringers. He battles the recalcitrant Gilchrist in an attempt to retrieve Kivrin before her projected return on Holy Innocents Day. His attempts to understand the situation are frustrated by the severe illness of the technician who had been in charge of the drop which transported Kivrin to the fourteenth century.
This is an amazing work. There is no doubt it is a triumph of scholarship. The author is able to propound a theory of history and speech that may not agree with that put forward by some scholars. She is able to bring tecnicolour life to the dry and brittle bones of fourteenth century history as her heroine does battle with the conditions and prejudices of the past. Her attention to detail and her masterly command of dialogue is nothing short of prodigious. There are trifling discrepancies - for example, the most glaring being the emergence of mobile phone technology in the past decade. Her prophecy was for videophones but they still to be limited by landline technology. It would have taken a major rewriting job to have brought just that aspect of the novel up to date but it is a glitch easy to overlook in the awed admiration for the incredible achievement of the writing.
Willis provides deft characterisation as well as plotting. The reader
is easily bound up in concern for the fates of Kivrin, Dunworthy and the
children of both eras. One can hope that Allen & Unwin will re-release
further of Ms Willis' work and readers may trust that the author will produce
more new novels in the not too distant future (lack of time machines notwithstanding.)
THE SCIENCE OF DISCWORLD III
DARWIN'S WATCH
by Terry Pratchett, Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen
ISBN 0091898234
344 pages
EBURY PRESS
June 1 2005
$55.00
reviewed by Denise Pickles
May 20 2005
It is a sad fact, but true (in this part of the world, at least) that students are turning away from science, fearing that it is just too difficult. Help is sorely needed in the area to make the study more attractive to young people. Enter Terry Pratchett and his wonderful creation, Discworld. The flat world, supported on the backs of four elephants which are, in turn, balanced on the shell of the giant tortoise, the great A'Tuin, has been a huge hit over the years with young readers (as well as older folk) in many lands. Although physics and chemistry are remarkably lacking - or perhaps simply different - on Discworld, Terran science (or Roundworld science, according to the wizards of Unseen University) can still be seen to be applied by those self same wizards (Wizzard, in the case of Rincewind) in their dealings with the accidentally created Roundworld.
There is disquiet on Discworld within the hallowed precincts of the Unseen University, home to most of the wizards of their universe. Something is interfering with the history of the Dean's inadvertent creation, the Roundworld. Charles Darwin, the scientist who, in our timeline, is the writer of the Origin of Species, is somehow being prevented from completing the voyage on the Beagle, the trip that would, almost a quarter of a century later, be responsible for concentrating scientific minds wonderfully upon the notion of evolution and somehow, therefore, permit the escape of humanity from their doomed planet to voyage through space to a new, and, one trusts, more salubrious environment. But what malign influence could be thwarting the journey and how could the thwarters themselves be thwarted?
Having had Pratchett set the scene for the science, the scientists/science writers, Stewart and Cohen, are then given their heads to explain the foundation of the evil threatening Earth. A fine job they do of it, too. Philosophers such as Zeno are called into play whilst scientists, ranging from Archimedes through Einstein to Stephen Hawking are also explained. Religion, both on the flat world and the inexplicably round, is also illustrated. What more could an inquiring mind wish?
Despite the science being popular, there are, possibly, times when the reader's eyes might glaze, just a trifle. They will, of course, resume their customary brightness when Pratchett's prose resumes once more. There is no pretence that the science chapters have been written by Pratchett but that author has made a sterling job of uniting the body of knowledge with the fiction. A mention should also be made of an aspect of the jacket illustration, the skillfully done depiction of the birds - or could some of them be fish?
In short, if you know someone who would benefit from a dose of sugarcoated
science with an excipient of fantasy, bestow upon them a very worth
while series.
THUD
by Terry Pratchett
ISBN 0385608675
362 pages
Doubleday
October 3 2005
$49.95
reviewed by Denise Pickles
October 18 2005
In the latest Discworld novel, Terry Pratchett has reverted to the non-chaptered divisions that he forsook for GOING POSTAL -- well, almost reverted. Instead of chapters (and not even one prologue in this outing) he has complete, chapter-like thoughts cordoned off by the ominous dwarf sign, the Summoning Dark.
Pratchett, on the Terrypratchettbooks.com site, says that the Discworld books "began as a parody of all the fantasy that was around in the big boom of the early '80s, then turned into a satire on just about everything, and even I don't know what it is now." Regardless of definition, whatever it is, it is brilliant.
The tale begins with a dwarf head being clubbed and its body slumping, lifeless, to the ground. Although not involved in the assault, a troll witnessed it: Brick, a young, weedy (for a troll) troll, so spaced out on troll drugs as to render him useless as a witness. With trouble already fermenting in the leadup to Koom Valley Day, the commemoration of what is remembered as an historic battle between Trolls and Dwarfs (note the Discworld plural as opposed to the Terran plural of 'dwarves'. No foofy Earthian spelling for eminently rough, tough, dark dwelling Discworld dwarfs!) Sam Vimes is not enthusiastic at the repercussions an investigation into the murder and the unmasking of the murderer might provoke.
To complicate matters, a painting (said to contain a secret) of that
battle has been stolen from the Royal Art Museum. The Watch, in the persons
of Nobby Nobbs and Fred Colon are sent to investigate.
Commander Sam Vimes of the Ankh Morpork Watch is a driven man. He is
the father of a young baby and, as such, is determined to put his paternal
duties ahead of all else in his life. At precisely six every evening he
reads the picture book, WHERE'S MY COW, to his son, young Sam. Nothing,
not commands from Lord Vetinari nor even battle, prevents the ritual.
Vimes is having interracial problems within his own force as he is compelled to accept a vampire into the Watch. Werewolf Sergeant Angua finds her hackles standing on end as she must look after the newest recruit, a member of a race (albeit one who has taken the teetotal Black Ribbon) Sam finds abominable. Salacia von Humpeding ("I would prefer to be called Sally" ) is, perforce, taken on as a probationary lance-constable. Mind, she has attributes, not the least the ability to turn into more than a hundred and fifty bats (distribution of body mass, you know) that could prove very useful in her chosen profession, but on the whole, she is not a welcome addition in either Sam's or Angua's opinion.
Sam, the Luddite, is uncomfortable with technology (or technomancy). Sam's wife Sybil is constantly inflicting on him a state of the art Dis-Organizer, "The Gooseberry". A succession of the gadgets normally meet a violent end, much to the discomfort of the Mulberry powering imps. Vimes' latest acquisition manages to convince Sam, against all the odds, that his imp self is needed and proves his value during the subsequent Ankh Morporkian unrest -- as does A E Pessimal, a Watch Inspector forced on Sam by Lord Vetinari.
As usual, Pratchett manages to capture and satirise world situations in his tales and cuts them down to risible (sort of) size. Sam is the well intentioned Everyman who would guard his city (and family) against all ill whilst seeing the overwhelming prejudice and violence reflected within himself. Sam can contain his own prejudices but can he extend the victory to the outside Discworld?
The author has invented an ingenious game, Thud, for the dwarfs and the trolls to play, one in which the dwarfs have the advantage; or have they? Can this game have any effect on the greater Discworld reality?
Alas, the Witches have no part in this novel. DEATH has but a cameo
role and Rincewind none at all despite the Unseen University and the Librarian
playing their small parts. The reader does learn, unexpectedly, of the
existence of a Troll King, Mr. Shine, but it would be nice to see the Witches
once more. Regardless, the discerning reader and Discworld aficionado will
find much to appreciate in this very thoughtful but entertaining work.
WINTERSMITH
by Terry Pratchett
399 pages
ISBN 0385609841
DOUBLEDAY
October 2 2006
$45.00
reviewed by Denise Pickles
October 25 2006
Perhaps you, Dear Reader. may have felt a twinge of disappointment at not being able to locate a new Discworld novel ostensibly for adults in the Pratchett season of October. Fear not. WINTERSMITH, while it may, at first glance, be perceived as a children's book (and has been listed as such on more than one site) and while children may well be entertained by it, it could be seen as a bridge, with a foot (so to speak) firmly planted in the world of adult literature. The wicked wit is there (but no wicked witch) as Tiffany Aching and her monstrous wee protectors, the Nac Mac Feegles sally forth into the jaws (and sharp teeth) of danger.
Tiffany is back on the Chalk (but this is in the future, "all this hasn't happened yet. It might not happen at all. The future is always a bit wobbly"). The wintersmith is determined to carry her off and the Feegles realise that since the job of saving her (and their home) is a bit too big for them, they must enlist the aid of the Hero. Who is the Hero? He must be someone wonderful indeed to be able to outperform those wily wee 'uns and save their one time kelda and present witch! Well, perhaps not. The Hero is Roland, the lad the Feegles helped rescue from the Fairy Queen some time ago.
Tiffany has really brought it all on herself. Miss Treason, the witch
who is training Tiffany, warned her she must not move until the dance was
over but Tiffany found there was a place just her size within the dance,
and joined the Morris dancers and thereby began the terrifying adventure,
for she danced with the wintersmith, attracting the attention of that semi-divine
being and kindling an ambition in his breast, firstly to become a
man and secondly, to marry Tiffany Aching.
The book is great fun. The Mac Nac Feegles support a somewhat distorted mirror of mankind as they turn their eminently sensible logic onto the problems of the bigjobs (humans) in order to solve a myriad of problems and keep Tiffany safe enough to save both them and the wider Discworld (although it must be admitted that she is unable to prevent the deaths of many lambs in the freeze inflicted by the wintersmith.)
The reader is treated to a great celebration, the funeral feast of one of the witches. Witches, of course, know the time of their death, so are able, if they wish, to attend their own wake. Speaking of witches, Miss Tick, the Witchfinder (her purpose in finding witches is quite different from that of the human witchfinders of dull Earth) and Miss Treason, are reintroduced to the reader, as are the members of Tiffany's coven but the most important of all the witches of Discworld are also in the book,: namely Granny Weatherwax (or the 'girl Weatherwax', according to Miss Treason, safe in the seniority of her 113 years) and Nanny Ogg. Nanny Ogg is quite happy to contribute to Tiffany's education by introducing her to certain aspects of boy meets girl encounters, a chapter of enlightenment which Tiffany would rather avoid.
It would be a shame if Terry Pratchett were to relinquish his other
Discworld novels (could he have run out of things to satirise in that series?)
but if he does, his Tiffany Aching adventures bid fair to rival the other
in popularity.