Making Money has chapters, like Going Postal, but Thud!, as described in Chapter 44, does not.
The board game of Thud is introduced in Going Postal, as it happens—Lord Vetinari is playing a game by clacks. Thud involves a battle between dwarfs and trolls. Again, Mr. Pratchett is hinting at things to come.
But first we have a short story, and then another book with chapters, lots of them, as the Science of Discworld series reaches its third volume.
42
“A Collegiate Casting-Out of Devilish Devices” (2005)
IT COULD BE ARGUED that this isn’t really a short story at all, but it looks like one to me, so I’m including it. “A Collegiate Casting-Out of Devilish Devices” first appeared in the Times Higher Education Supplement for May 13, 2005; that was well after the publication of Once More* with Footnotes, which is why it isn’t included therein.
It’s an account of a faculty meeting at Unseen University where the wizards deal, in their usual fashion, with certain suggestions from the Patrician’ s representative, A.E. Pessimal. Readers will see more of Mr. Pessimal in Thud!, when he’s assigned to review the operation of the Watch, but here he’s been sent to see if he can improve the University.
The wizards don’t think the University needs improvement, but it doesn’t do to simply ignore the Patrician, so they give Mr. Pessimal’s questions some attention.
Like many of the scenes at Unseen University, it’s a parody of academia, and a good one. It stands on its own as such, but definitely ties into the series as a whole—besides Mr. Pessimal, there are references to Braseneck College, which was introduced in The Last Continent.
It’s a shame it isn’t more widely available.
43
The Science of Discworld III: Darwin’s Watch (2005) (with Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen)
ONE MORE TIME, THE WIZARDS of Unseen University descend upon Roundworld to prevent the eventual extinction of the human species. This time an outside force has been tampering with Charles Darwin’s history. Instead of writing Origin of Species, he’s written Theology of Species, which results in a more peaceful twentieth century—and slower scientific and technological progress, leading to disaster.
This is really quite a clever idea, and depends on a good understanding of Darwin’s life and background. He was brought up in the Church of England and took it seriously, and almost certainly would have preferred to find a theological explanation for the diversity of life he observed, but instead reported honestly what he saw, and what he concluded from that.
In Darwin’s Watch, something, it would seem, has prevented this.
The cause of the tampering is less obvious this time than was the interference by elves in The Science of Discworld II, and is not discovered until halfway through the story, so I’ll only name it in a footnote,147 so those of you who prefer not to be told can avoid it.
It’s the footnote to this paragraph.148
There.
Now, moving on, the science in the even-numbered chapters in this volume, unsurprisingly, includes a great deal about evolution, but not merely Darwinian natural selection; it also discusses social evolution and technological evolution, how particular social situations led to certain results. Sociology and history can be considered science, right? There’s a good bit about how and why nineteenth-century Britain saw such a tremendous surge of development, compared to most of the rest of the world.
But since you’re reading about it here, I assume you’re more interested in the Discworld elements, rather than the science.
In the previous Science volumes, Rincewind was more or less the hero; in this one it’s really an ensemble effort, with Ponder Stibbons taking the lead more than Rincewind. Oh, Rincewind (who has now accumulated a total of nineteen posts on the UU faculty, rather than the mere seven he had in The Science of Discworld II) is certainly present and active, but it’s Stibbons, Hex, and Archchancellor Ridcully who take charge of dealing with the situation.
They (and we) learn a great deal about the life of Charles Darwin, and about just how unlikely it was that Origin of Species actually got written.
Charles Darwin, incidentally, learns far more than he wanted to about the Discworld when the wizards transport him there briefly. His stay includes a visit to the God of Evolution, whom we first met in The Last Continent. Fortunately for his sanity and our history, Darwin’s memory of this is magically removed before he’s returned to his own world, where he does indeed write Origin of Species.
So far, this is the final Science of Discworld volume, and I rather suspect it will stay that way. It holds up well, but one rather gets the impression that the authors have pretty much said what they had to say on their various subjects. Dragging the faculty of Unseen University into yet another adventure on Roundworld would really seem to be stretching the premise too far.
Fortunately, there’s still plenty to be said about Discworld, so it’s back to Ankh-Morpork for another look at the adventures of His Grace Sir Samuel Vimes, Duke of Ankh-Morpork and Commander of the Watch. . . .
44
Thud! (2005)
THE ENMITY OF DWARFS and trolls has been an established feature of the Discworld for many a volume at this point, and there have been several mentions of the infamous Battle of
Koom Valley. At long last, Mr. Pratchett sees fit to tell us more about that fabled conflict, while setting Commander Vimes another mystery to solve, and another disaster to stave off.
The title comes from the board-game Thud, which was introduced in Going Postal; in it one player plays dwarfs and the other trolls, in a battle between the two species.149
There are other echoes of Going Postal, as well—the expression “go postal” comes up more than once, in contexts where “go spare”150 would have been more likely a few volumes back, and the Post Office’s fondness for collectible stamps manifests itself in two different Koom Valley commemoratives that serve to fan the flames of dwarf/troll hostility.
And there’s the painting, The Goddess Anoia Arising from the Cutlery—Anoia was first mentioned in Going Postal, and will turn up in person in Wintersmith.
These little consistencies are part of what gives the Discworld its charm. Little details of all sorts add to the flavor, as when we learn that Carrot Ironfoundersson’s actual first name is Kzad-bhat, meaning Head Banger. “Carrot” is presumably merely a rough approximation of the correct pronunciation, as well as describing his appearance.
And then there are the little inter-universal references, such as the dwarfish symbol for the Long Dark, i.e., a mine tunnel. It’s a circle with a horizontal line across it—which happens to be the logo of the London Underground.
At any rate, things are tense in Ankh-Morpork as the anniversary of the Battle of Koom Valley nears. A group of very conservative, very respected dwarfs have settled in the city—or under it, really—and are stirring up trouble.
Then one of the most provocative of the lot is murdered, and the dwarfs say a troll is responsible, and Sam Vimes investigates. He wants to prevent open warfare, and he wants to find the killer; he hopes these goals aren’t incompatible.
Matters, of course, get complicated. It turns out there was more than the one murder, there are strange things going on in the troll community , the Watch has taken on a vampire as a recruit, Nobby has acquired a girlfriend. . . .
And Sam Vimes has a son, Young Sam, and every day at six he must read Young Sam the boy’s favorite book, Where’s My Cow? 151 He’s made this an absolutely inviolable rule, in order to make sure that he never allows himself to neglect his child; it’s important. Allowing anything to interfere with this daily ritual will be conceding defeat, admitting that the world can force him to give up parts of himself he does not intend to give up.
Non-parents may not empathize easily with the importance of the ritual.
Carrot, interestingly, does appreciate its importance, and cooperates with Vimes to ensure that the ritual happens on schedule, even though Carrot has previously sai
d that “Personal isn’t the same as important.”
Some things, it would seem, are both.
All in all, it’s a Vimes novel on the usual pattern—a crime has been committed that Vimes is determined to solve, no matter what or who might get in his way, and in the course of solving it he finds himself dealing with matters far larger than mere murder. Along the way, we see the various members of the Watch being themselves—Carrot, Angua, Fred Colon, Nobby, Detritus, Cheery Littlebottom, Corporal Visit, and the rest. There are meetings with Lord Vetinari, interludes with Lady Sybil and her dragons, and more. It’s a very satisfactory package indeed. The addition of Young Sam and the revelation of the secret of Koom Valley are new, of course, but they fit in nicely. Willikins, the family butler Vimes acquired when he married Lady Sybil, returns and develops some wonderful new depths.
There are certain new elements here of which I confess I’m not immediately enamored; the dwarfish culture seems to be getting even darker and more unpleasant than it was in The Fifth Elephant, for one. The Devices, pre-human artifacts the dwarfs collect, strike me as potentially a bad idea, and not entirely in keeping with Discworld’s history as we know it.
A couple of lines hark back amusingly to much earlier books. For example, at one point Vimes remarks, “It’s been a long time since this city was last burned to the ground.”
Not that long, really, since it happened at the beginning of The Colour of Magic.
And Igor, the bartender at Biers, first and last seen in Feet of Clay, appears, with a footnote clarifying that he’s not one of those Igors.
There are some nice subplots that have very little to do with the central story, but which are thoroughly entertaining all the same, such as Nobby’s romance with Tawneee, and the “girls’ night out” that Angua, Sally, Cheery, and Tawneee share. It’s amusing to see that the Disc has cocktails just as ridiculously named as ours, including its own version of a Screaming Orgasm.152 And it’s good to see that Mr. Pratchett can still find stories to tell about Sam Vimes that don’t involve dragging him off to Uberwald or Borogravia, or flinging him into the past, or having him be anything other than the copper he is.
I hope we’ll see more of Mr. Vimes in the future, but so far, Thud! is his last starring role. The next book is another “young adult” title featuring Tiffany Aching, and then after that it’s Moist von Lipwig again.
45
Wintersmith (2006)
TIFFANY ACHING IS BACK. She’s been learning witchcraft under various mentors, and as her thirteenth birthday approaches, she’s living with Miss Eumenides 153 Treason, a very old witch, who takes her to observe the Dark Morris, the silent one described near the very end of Reaper Man, the one that balances out the ordinary Morris that ushers in the springtime.
The Dark Morris ushers in the winter.
Tiffany, in a moment of teenage rebellion, gets caught up in it and joins the dance, bringing her to the attention of the spirit of winter itself, the elemental known to the witches as the Wintersmith.
The Wintersmith never really noticed human beings as individuals before, but you can’t ignore someone who’s dancing with you, and he takes a very definite interest in Tiffany. After all, she usurped the role of his usual partner in the dance.
As Granny Weatherwax points out, Tiffany has put herself into a story, a very old, very powerful story, and the only way out is to see it through to the end, and to make sure the story comes out right.
Tiffany does her best—and since this is a Discworld story, she succeeds, with the help of the other witches, the Nac Mac Feegle, and a designated Hero.
Along the way, she learns more about people, witchcraft, and the world in general. The other young witches introduced in A Hat Full of Sky—Annagramma, Petulia Gristle, Dimity Hubbub, Lucy Warbeck, and the rest—appear, and advance in their respective careers. (We learn in passing that Petulia’s Pig Trick was considered the winning magic at the Witch Trials in A Hat Full of Sky. I suspect we’ll see more of Petulia. I hope we do, anyway; I like her.)
We see quite a bit of Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg.
Throughout the Discworld series, we’ve had snatches of dog-Latin popping up, and a few bits of Welsh; in Wintersmith we also get Greek—not transliterated, but in the original alphabet—and a single phrase in Russian.154 The series continues to evolve, and the Disc bears more and more resemblance to Roundworld.
And speaking of Roundworld, there’s an explicit reference to narrativium, the element first named in The Science of Discworld. It’s described as one of the components of people. Stories are what make us people, as set forth in The Science of Discworld II: The Globe.
Another cross-series reference is a scene of Rob Anybody reading Where’s My Cow?, the book Sam Vimes reads to his son in Thud!
Anoia, a minor goddess first mentioned in Going Postal, gets a scene with Tiffany.
And there’s a pun that I rather grudgingly admire. We learn that the name of Nanny Ogg’s home, in the village of Slice, in the kingdom of Lancre, is Tir Nani Ogg. “Nanny Ogg,” of course, is a familiar name to Discworld readers. “Tír na nÓg,” on the other hand, is a familiar name to anyone who knows anything about Irish myth—it means “Land of Youth,” and is the magical, other-worldly isle somewhere far to the west where the sidhe live, where there’s no disease or aging.
I’d never made the connection between “Tír na nÓg” and “Nanny Ogg” before. I rather suspect that Mr. Pratchett originally hadn’t, either, since if he had I’d have expected to see “Tir Nani Ogg” before this, but it’s an amusing one, all the same, whether coincidental or planned.
While on the subject of Mrs. Ogg: We also meet one or two of Nanny’s daughters-in-law, and (rather frustratingly, if you ask me) still don’t learn any of their names.
This is primarily Tiffany’s story, though. She’s coming into her own—no longer just a girl, but a young woman; no longer a potential witch, but a practicing one.
I look forward to reading more about her—and about the rest of Discworld.
One more book to consider—the return of Moist von Lipwig.
46
Making Money (2007)
IN GOING POSTAL, we got to know former(?) con artist Moist von Lipwig, and watched him resuscitate the Ankh-Morpork postal service. In Making Money, Lord Vetinari offers him the opportunity to do the same for the Royal Bank of Ankh-Morpork, and the Royal Mint. Lipwig is not at all enthusiastic about the idea, but Fate and the Patrician conspire to see that he does eventually tackle the job—and Lipwig is forced to admit that, once prodded into it, he relishes the challenge.
And a challenge it is; Ankh-Morpork is in the midst of a banking crisis, and the Mint is horrendously outdated. Furthermore, while nobody else had any interest in running the Post Office, there are people very interested indeed in controlling the Royal Bank, and eager to wrest it away from Lipwig.
Like Going Postal, Making Money has complexly named chapters with illustrations at the start of each, though the illustrations aren’t as consistent as the stamps in Going Postal. The chapter between Chapter 7 and Chapter 9 is simply Chapter 8 this time. While it’s clearly following the model of the previous book, it doesn’t seem as if the details are quite as well handled.
Likewise, the story itself seems a little less perfect than the magnificence of Going Postal. Some of the subplots, such as the hydraulic model of Ankh-Morpork’s economy, while amusing, don’t seem completely necessary, and Cosmo Lavish is a less effective villain than Reacher Gilt—it’s fairly clear all along that Lavish carries the seeds of his own destruction, which was much less a foregone conclusion with Gilt.
Still, it’s a lot of fun watching Lipwig invent paper money, try to take Ankh-Morpork off the gold standard, and give the banking business a healthy dose of showmanship. We learn a little more about Igors, meet a figure from Lipwig’s past, and resolve some lingering old issues. We even learn C.M.O.T. Dibbler’s full name. All in all, a worthy addition to the series, and one that leave
s me eager for the next—whatsoever that may be.
47
Stories Yet to Come
THE DISCWORLD SERIES is not finished; it isn’t anywhere near finished. As Terry Pratchett said at a book-signing I attended, a few years down the road he might retire, but if he does, he’s not sure what he’d do. Maybe write a book.
Or two. does, he’s not sure what he’d do. Maybe write a book.
But I want to get this book finished, so I can’t wait around to see what becomes of it all. I will, however, mention what I know of what lies ahead.
I Shall Wear Midnight, the fourth and probably last Tiffany Aching story, is in the works. Throughout the first three books, she’s insisted on wearing blue or green, the colors of the Chalk, rather than proper witchy black; it would seem this is finally going to change.
Making Money ends with Lord Vetinari suggesting that Moist von Lipwig might consider revamping Ankh-Morpork’s system of tax collection; presumably Lipwig will eventually accept the job. A working title of Raising Taxes has been mentioned. It seems Lipwig has taken over the “Beyond the Century of the Fruitbat” series, or perhaps he’s becoming another series, like Sam Vimes or Granny Weatherwax. Launching another sub-series some thirty volumes in is . . . interesting.
Beyond that—I don’t know. As of October 2006, Mr. Pratchett said he didn’t, either, though he had a few ideas forming. The story goes on.
PART FOUR
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48
The Discworld Phenomenon
SO THAT’S THE SERIES TO DATE. It started out as clever but fairly simple parodies of fantasy novels, but grew and changed, gradually shifting from parody to satire, and gradually turning its focus from fantasy to the real world, growing darker in the process. It’s still changing—Moist von Lipwig has become a series, for example.
The Turtle Moves! Page 15