It has come to my attention there are heretics among us.
Yes, heretics. Some of you have not read the Discworld series by Terry
Pratchett!
*Pause here for shocked gasps*
If you’re sitting there thinking ‘I haven’t read it’ or ‘What
the hell is the Discworld?’, then yes, I’m talking to you, heretic!
Don’t feel too bad. My Dad is also a heretic. It has become
one of my life’s ambitions to convince him to read just one Discworld book. Just
one. The Australian one didn’t work. I’m currently trying the science angle.
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| The original and subsequent covers in Australia and the UK |
If you don’t know the greatness that is Terry Pratchett,
then you don’t know what you are missing. It is one of the world’s greatest
tragedies that Mr Pratchett is suffering from early onset Alzheimer’s. The loss
of his genius will be a cruel blow to literature. Go forth immediately, infidel,
and beg, borrow or steal (or hey, even buy!) a copy of The Colour of Magic.
It’s got dragons. I promise.
I am here to introduce you to the magical wonders of the
Discworld series via the first two books, The Colour of Magic and The
Light Fantastic. Since there are two books, I’ll be doing this over two
posts.
Unlike the rest of the Discworld books, you really do need
to read both of these together. You don’t get a real conclusion to The Colour
of Magic without reading The Light Fantastic. And, like many other series
I’ve read, I didn’t start with the first book. Are you surprised? No?
Didn’t think so. Someone bought me The Light Fantastic and in ignorance
I read it and had to backtrack to The Colour of Magic. One day, we will
find a series where I started at book one. What a novel idea...
Here’s the blurb from The Colour of Magic.
On a world supported on the back of a giant turtle (sex
unknown), a gleeful, explosive, wickedly eccentric expedition sets out. There’s
an avaricious but inept wizard, a naive tourist whose luggage moves on hundreds
of dear little legs, dragons who only exist if you believe in them, and of
course THE EDGE of the planet...
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| Rincewind |
OK, that’s maybe not how I would have put it. The Discworld
really is a disc, carried on the backs of four elephants, standing on the shell
of the giant turtle swimming through space. The wizard is Rincewind, who is my
most favourite Discworld character of all-time. He’s a wizard, but he is well
and truly inept. He wears a pointy hat that reads ‘Wizzard’ just so people know
what he is. He only knows one spell (but obviously not how to spell, ha
ha) and he can’t use it. As for the luggage on ‘dear little legs’... Possibly
my second favourite character. A box? Yes. However, if I had to describe the
Luggage, I would probably have said ‘walking sentient box with homicidal
tendencies’. The word ‘dear’ wouldn’t
feature.
This is our introduction to Rincewind, fleeing from a
burning city and waylaid by two barbarians. He has just called one of the
barbarians a ‘shadow-loving fleabag’ and the barbarian objects. How does Rincewind
respond?
‘You don’t understand at all,’ said the wizard wearily. ‘I’m
so scared of you my spine has turned to jelly, it’s just that I’m suffering
from an overdose of terror right now. I mean, when I’ve got over that then I’ll
have time to be decently frightened of you.’
That’s Rincewind, our friendly cowardly hero. He’d really
prefer you dropped the ‘hero’ part. He introduces his companion as Twoflower,
the man who started the fire. The barbarians ask if he is an arsonist.
‘No. Let’s just say that if complete and utter chaos was
lightning, then Twoflower’d be the sort to stand on a hilltop in a thunderstorm
wearing wet copper armour and shouting “All gods are bastards”.’
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| Twoflower. Typical tourist, right? |
I have to say that is a pretty fair description of
Twoflower. Everywhere he goes, he draws trouble without meaning to. For
example, he introduces the citizens of Ankh-Morpork (the burning city) to the
idea of insurance (or in-sewer-ants as the locals say it). In his well meaning
fashion, Twoflower insures the local pub, not realising all the pub owner
understands is if his pub burns down, he gets gold. Do you start to see how the
city caught fire? Not so good for Rincewind, who would like a quiet life
followed by a quiet, painless death.
Twoflower is a tourist from ‘the Counterweight Continent’,
so-called because it has so much gold it makes up the weight of all the other
continents combined. Needless to say, gold there doesn’t have quite the same
value it does elsewhere, and Twoflower flashes far too much of it for his own
safety. He is also looking to experience ‘authentic’ heroes and describes the
pub as ‘a genuine Morporkian tavern.... All these quaint old beams’.
Rincewind glanced around quickly, in case some leakage of
enchantment from the Magicians’ Quarter across the river had momentarily
transported them to some other place. No – this was still the interior of the
Drum, its walls stained with smoke, its floor a compost of old rushes and
nameless beetles, its sour beer not so much purchased as just hired for a
while. He tried to fit the image around the word ‘quaint’. His mind reeled back
from the effort.
You can see that Twoflower’s perception of things doesn’t
really match reality. A very dangerous tendency. He also doesn’t speak the
local language. Rincewind, poor wizard that he is, happens to know multiple
languages and signs on as his tourist guide. Although he does so purely for the
massive amount of gold Twoflower is offering, Rincewind is, at heart, a nice
enough fellow trying to get Twoflower out of trouble.
‘Stranger,’ said Rincewind levelly. ‘If you stay here, you
will be knifed or poisoned by nightfall. But don’t stop smiling, or so will I.’
OK, himself as well.
When Rincewind starts to discover how much gold Twoflower
really has he knows he’s gotten himself into trouble.
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| Artist's impression of the imaginary dragons |
As a student wizard, Rincewind had never achieved high marks
in precognition, but now unused circuits in his brain were throbbing and the
future might as well have been engraved in bright colours on his eyeballs. The
space between his shoulder-blades began to itch. The sensible thing to do, he
knew, was to buy a horse... But what would happen to Twoflower, all alone in a
city where even the cockroaches had an unerring instinct for gold? A man would
have to be a real heel to leave him.
Look for Part 2 to meet some more of the characters (including
an up close and personal encounter with the Luggage!) and to learn if Rincewind
is, in fact, a heel.
What do you think? If you’ve read the books, don’t give it
away for those who haven’t!
