If you like: Douglas Adams, PG Wodehouse, Diana Wynne Jones, The Daily Show, The Onion.
This blog could have easily been “One Kelley Sister reviews all of Terry Pratchett’s books.” There are enough of them and I am enough of a fan.
But let’s face it, they would have mostly been quotes and at that point, if I start quoting Terry Pratchett, it might as well be the entire book.
So I promised myself only one Terry Pratchett book, but how to decide? Do I go with one of the superstars in his Discworld series, such as Granny Weatherwax or Commander Vimes? But “Small Gods” is a standalone, and it’s a classic discourse on religion and philosophy. Then there’s “Nation,” which doesn’t even take place in Discworld and is about as perfect a YA novel as you can get.
It was my brother who finally decided for me. He was trying to describe what it was like to be part of a chanting soccer crowd in Quebec. I think the way he finally put it was “I now understand how someone becomes a hooligan.”
I knew what he meant, though, because I’ve read “Unseen Academicals” and so that’s the book I chose.
First off, part of the fun of reading any Terry Pratchett book is how clever he is with words.
I like the way he describes things:
“She read the way cats eat: furtively, daring anyone to notice.”
“Juliet's version of cleanliness was next to godliness, which was to say it was erratic, past all understanding, and was seldom seen.”
The other is Pratchett’s deep sense of humanity. No matter how bad things get, how impossible it is for all evil to be truly banished, it doesn’t mean better instincts can’t prevail.
Or, as Mr. Nutt puts it, it doesn’t mean you can’t find worth.
Mr. Nutt is a new employee at Unseen University, where the wizards protect the world from metaphysical horrors and research the wonders of the universe down to its molecular structure, but mostly they look forward to the next meal.
Their librarian is an orangutan and there’s the Department of Post-Mortem Communications, where the most evil thing that happens is Professor Hix stuffing unsuspecting pockets with fliers to amateur theater productions.
Mr. Nutt wants to fit in, he knows it can be dangerous not to fit in. He spent the first years of his life chained to an anvil because he scared the people in the village who found him.
So he befriends Trev, who knows the rules of the street and is trying to figure out his own way in life.
And Mr. Nutt gets to know Glenda, the young ruler of the Night Kitchen at the university. Glenda asks questions: Why am I mothering everyone? What are the wizards up to? What, exactly, is a boudoir?
The three of them get caught up in a plot to civilize a street game known as “foot-the-ball,” which generally ends when someone scores or dies. But, as Glenda worries, what happens when the nobs start telling people like her how to think.
This isn’t the best of Pratchett’s books. It lacks the neat weave of “Small Gods” or “Witches Abroad” -- too many ideas, not enough binding.
But oh, the ideas. There’s the metaphorical hammer, can a leopard change its shorts, community as crab bucket, how people are made, The Chant, sports as religion, analysts, romance novels, context, selling the dream, becoming your mother, competitive academia and pie.
They make your brain blink and pop and fizzle, then laugh.
“When I was a young boy on holiday in Uberwald, I was walking along the bank of a stream when I saw a mother otter with her cubs. A very endearing sight, I'm sure you will agree, and even as I watched, the mother otter dived into the water and came up with a plump salmon, which she subdued and dragged onto a half-submerged log. As she ate it, while of course it was still alive, the body split and I remember to this day the sweet pinkness of its roes as they spilled out, much to the delight of the baby otters who scrambled over themselves to feed on the delicacy. One of nature's wonders, gentlemen: mother and children dining upon mother and children. And that's when I first learned about evil. It is built into the very nature of the universe. Every world spins in pain. If there is any kind of supreme being, I told myself, it is up to all of us to become his moral superior.”
One idea that might have been interesting to explore a little more is the fallibility of the city-state’s tyrant, Lord Vetinari. His omnipotence is a long-running joke of the series.
“That's why I am still tyrant of this city,” he says at one point. “The way to retain power, I have always thought, is to ensure the absolute unthinkability of oneself not being there."
It seems like there may be a challenge to that balance of power in this story, but it never fully coalesces.
Still, you should finish the book feeling satisfied, even if there’s no easy answer.
“What does ‘worth’ mean, Mister Nutt?”
“It means that you leave the world better than when you found it,” said Nutt…”I don't think there are absolutes. I think what ladyship meant was that you do the best you can with what you have.”
Or, as the crowd chants: “It matters not who won or lost/Nothing is the score you made/Fame is a petal that curls in the frost/But I will remember how you played.”
"Unseen Academicals" by Terry Pratchett; HarperCollins Publishers; Oct. 2014.
Comments