Re-read reviews: the Discworld series, by Terry Pratchett. Part 1 - Overview
Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels are brilliant, a wide-ranging series satirizing both fantasy tropes and our own reality while also building a compelling world and set of characters of their own. But I have half a bookcase full of these, and each book is a work that can stand on it's own. So where to start? Well, I plan to feature three sets of characters who show up the most frequently, and are also my favorites: the witches, Commander Vimes and the Ankh Morepork City Watch, and Death1. *Edit: reviews now linked*. But first, a brief overview.
The titular Discworld, as the name suggests, is flat, supported by four elephants that stand on the back of a turtle2. This fact doesn't come into play that much, but it does set the tone for the absurdity to come. Pratchett never settles for easy fantasy or fairytale conventions, though. He plays a lot with tropes and stereotypes and pre-existing stories, but is always probing them, asking questions, exploring the consequences of accepting these ideas as fact.
The books don't do this perfectly. The 'start with tropes, then subvert them or build on them' approach works wonderfully for the central characters and places, but can leave some of the peripheral ones under-developed and stereotypical. And since the author is British and therefore tends to start with satirizing British - and to a slightly lesser extent American - things, that means that the more culturally removed from the Anglophone world a Discworld place is, the more likely it is to get stuck in stereotype limbo. This isn't as problematic-feeling as it is in, say, 'Good Omens', because Discworld is so clearly not our world, and so many stereotypes do eventually get subverted that you start expecting that to happen, whether or not it actually does. But it is still a little bit of a flaw.
The cultural and historical references in these books are non-stop, and yet somehow manage not to be distracting or annoying. They fit the stories, but also feel a bit like a fun scavenger hunt. Some are obvious. Many of the books are a direct parody of a specific story or genre - 'Phantom of the Opera' in 'Maskerade' or vampire stories in 'Carpe Jugulum', for instance. Others reference particular historical phenomena: 'Monstrous Regiment' is both a tribute to the surprisingly large number of women over the years who have dressed as men to join the army, and a critique of how war and nationalism are frequently glorified. But there are lots of subtler jokes and references as well. For instance, it was only last year when I learned about the Battle of Cable Street - in which working-class Londoners went up against the police to prevent a fascist march through their neighborhood in 1936 - that I realized why the secret police baddies who get taken out by the heroes of the Glorious Revolution in 'Night Watch' are called 'the Cable Street Particulars'3.
As goofy as the Discworld books are, they also manage to be very philosophical. After a while, you start to get a sense of how Pratchett thinks about the world. Several themes come up a lot:
The nature of evil - The dominant attitude to this is best summed up by Granny Weatherwax (who would be chief witch, if witches had a hierarchy): sin starts with treating other people as things. While sometimes a Discworld conflict arises out of a mistake or misunderstanding or natural phenomenon, the really serious antagonists are always those who consistently view others as something less than full, autonomous people. Sometimes this is expressed in obvious cruelty, but sometimes in trying to "do good" for someone whether they want it or not.
Heroes - The heroes of Discworld don't set out to be that. Sometimes they are people who would never view themselves as a hero because they are highly aware of their own dark side - and yet that is precisely why they have developed a moral code that won't let them stand by while bad things happen. Sometimes they are genuinely sweet people that others consistently underestimate because they are so nice, but who turn out to have a steel spine when it comes down to it. And sometimes they are rather hapless types who stumble ass backward into saving the world while they are trying to do something else entirely.
Friendship and long-term relationships - Pratchett is really good at writing pairs or sets of characters that have known each other a long time, the sort who might argue and drive each other crazy but who you absolutely believe would die for each other. There are several pairings I like to think of as "platonic life-partners", most notably the witches Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg and the guards Sergeant Colon and Colonel Nobby Nobbs. Pratchett's romances have a tendency to feel weirdly platonic as well - sexual tension is not his strong suit - and sometimes even a bit unconvincing. But there are some couples who have a similar kind of strong partnership and complementarity, such as Commander Vimes and Lady Sybil. There are some "clumps" of characters who play off each other well too, even if I wouldn't always call them "friends", such as the wizards of Unseen University.
War and violence - The smarter Discworld characters tend to regard war as a pointless bloody mess. As with 'Good Omens', quite a few plots revolve around stopping a war. However, that doesn't mean these characters won't use violence if they need to. They usually try to find another way, but will get down and dirty if the antagonist really won't stop. Even so, they rarely just outright kill the antagonist, often instead defanging them, making sure they stand trial, or letting them destroy themselves. I think of this as "Doctor Who pacifism": Use diplomacy and trickery whenever possible, but when faced with fascist space robots who won't be reasoned with you might need to start blowing shit up.
Prejudice - One place a lot of fantasy stories that try to
tackle prejudice stumble is in making different species analogous to different
races, but in the processes accidentally giving false-in-our-world racial differences an
actual biological basis. Discworld avoids this by having both actual human-to-human prejudices AND inter-species prejudices that kind-of-but-not-exactly overlap with
stereotypes in our world. It doesn't do this perfectly - see stereotype-related
stuff above - but it is a better system than most. All characters of whatever gender
or ethnicity or species who get more than a few sentences of description feel
like people - slightly exaggerated versions of people you might recognize in your own community - and every group has enough
variation within it not to feel like a monolith. Even when differences between species are framed as biological, there are still some interesting subversions to be found. For instance, Discworld humans think of trolls as big stupid tanks. And they mostly are...in the lowlands where people live and encounter them. But trolls are silicon-based lifeforms that evolved in the mountains, and their brains become more efficient at cold temperatures. In their natural habitat (or with the aid of a cooling helmet) they are just as smart as anyone else.
There's one analogy that is both cool and a bit problematic. You see, Pratchett addresses the odd pattern, dating back at least to Tolkien, of making all dwarves a "he" by explaining that both male and female dwarves have beards, and that they consider sex (both the identity and the act) to be something private that they don't discuss with others. That's kind of neat. But then some dwarves, after getting to know humans, start to "come out" as female, which they express not just by insisting on female pronouns but by wearing lipstick and skirts, ordering cocktails instead of beer, etc. - though they always keep their beards. And of course the more conservative dwarves are not happy about this, treat them as abominations, and so on, and such bigots are framed as wrong. Thus, on the one hand, we have a nice "respect people's gender identity and don't judge them for how they express it" message...but on the other this reversal kind of makes it seem like certain things are inherently gendered that really aren't. Then again, because dwarves don't talk about sex, it could be that gender and biological sex are weakly correlated in their society and that up to half of the female-identifying dwarves don't have uteruses; but that's just my head canon. Queer humans, and prejudice against them, do both exist4 but are never a focus - except in 'Monstrous Regiment', sort of. But that one deserves its own review because there is a lot to unpack (*Edit: now linked*).
Sexism gets more direct attention, and these books have kind of a "90s feminism" approach. That is, the existence of sexism is acknowledged, and it is treated as stupid and wrong, but as less of a systemic problem than some other issues. We rarely see the patriarchy; we instead see sexists being taken down a peg by women who actually have more power than average - due to being witches, or werewolves, or otherwise magical - or who are simply smarter, more determined, etc. than the average person. That said, there is some attention paid to arbitrary "rules" - eg. girls can't be wizards, queens don't do anything but stitch tapestries and ensure the royal succession. Even if breaking those rules turns out to be much easier than it would be in real life, the "girl power" approach led to a lot more awesome and varied female characters than was typical for fantasy books at the time.
Who exhibits certain prejudices and how the text makes the reader feel about them can vary a good bit. Not every "good guy" is free of prejudices. Sergeant Colon, for instance, has a lot of beliefs that could be very offensive and harmful...but he is a buffoon too lazy to even exercise the power he has as a guard for more than getting a free beer now and then, and other characters regularly question his views. For instance, after he tells the Patrician of Ankh Morepork that something isn't natural, and that he's not in favor of things that aren't natural, the Patrician feigns confusion and asks whether he thinks this means people should live in trees and eat their meat raw. Then there is Sam Vimes, who pulls off the Dirty Harry "I hate everyone" thing in a way that actually makes you like him because A) he goes through an arc from initially not wanting women or dwarves or trolls or vampires in the Watch to recognizing them as some of his most valuable officers, and B) he clearly hates powerful people most. Therefore, when the choice becomes real rather than abstract, he always punches up.
Class and politics - There are almost zero aristocratic or royal heroes in the Discworld series. Most characters are - by our real-world standards - working class, and most of the sympathetically-portrayed figures with political power started out poor. Sam Vimes, who rose from gutter-snipe to Commander of the City Watch to Duke (through marriage), is the most explicitly class-conscious character. He has no loyalty to or respect for aristocratic institutions, and even accidentally ends up talking the "true heir to the throne" out of claiming it by explaining the flaws of hereditary monarchy. Discworld is still a medievalish setting where true democracy doesn't exist (if it even exists yet in our world, which is debatable). But "Low King of the Dwarves" is an elected position, and the city of Ephebe, which is based on ancient Athens, has the same "democracy...except for women, slaves, and poor people" model as that real society. The Patrician of Ankh Morepork, while technically a dictator, has stayed in power for decades in part by being a pragmatist who does very little actual dictating. For instance, he allows a free press to emerge, feeling it is really just more efficient to know what your critics are saying about you than to try to stop them from saying it. His approach to dealing with crime was to legalize the guilds of beggars, thieves, and "seamstresses" (sex workers), and then taxing them, stating that if you were going to have crime it might as well be organized. And while I wouldn't say these books contain a strong critique of capitalism per se, there are certainly lots of examples of commerce and free markets gone wrong...or, rather, gone right, because the problems that occur are the sort that always occur in the absence of regulation5.
Religion and belief - In the Discworld universe, gods - and certain other anthropomorphic personifications such as Death and the Father-Christmas-like Hogfather - absolutely exist, but only because humans believe in them. If that belief wanes, their power diminishes, and they may even "die". Pratchett was an atheist, and most of his heroes are humanists who are either not religious6 or who talk back to their gods in a very 'Book of Job' kind of way. But he acknowledges humans' need to believe in something. Death even notes at one point that believing in rather silly things like the Hogfather might be practice for believing in, and thereby creating, things like Justice or Mercy which have no existence independent of humanity.
The power of stories - This is kind of a corollary of the previous point. Stories in Discworld can have an almost independent existence that comes either from being retold or having some deep resonance in human minds, or both. And some of the cleverest characters, like Granny Weatherwax, or Death, or even the Patrician, get a large part of their power from both recognizing the power of words and noticing when they are taking part in a particular type of story, and using that to their advantage.
That list might make these books sound preachy, but they really aren't. These are just the recurring messages I noticed after reading more than a dozen of these books! While a few like 'Monstrous Regiment' or 'Night Watch' focus on one or more of those themes directly, ideas about society and politics and whatnot are generally sprinkled in lightly with much larger helpings of witty banter, wordplay, and adventure. They are light and fun and a perfect quick beach read - they just also have things to say! And that combination is why I love them.
1. Yes, Death - the skeleton in the robe with a scythe - is a recurring and well-developed character in this series. So is his granddaughter, Susan. Confused? Stay tuned for part 4.
2. One character, trying to be clever, asks what the turtle stands on. Another gives him a weird look, and points out that it doesn't have to stand on anything. It's a turtle - it swims.
3. Though the institution is revived in a highly reformed version - plainclothes yes, but no torture - some decades later.
4. For instance, Rincewind the wizard runs into what is clearly the Discworld version of the 'Pricilla, Queen of the Desert' crew in 'The Lost Continent', and there is a joke that pops up across several books about what "everyone knows about wizards" (the joke being that the wizards - who don't marry, hang out only with each other, and wear "dresses" - are entirely unaware of what everyone supposedly knows).
5. For instance, the whole city of Ankh Morepork nearly burns down when someone introduces the idea of fire insurance, and half the city decides to collect their benefits at once. Later, there is a plague of rats that no amount of bounty can control; Lord Vetinari listens to this story carefully, and then declares the solution: 'Tax the rat farms'. Even later, a monopoly attempts to run both the post office and smaller 'clacks tower' operators (a sort of telegraph analog) out of business, to the detriment of communications as a whole.
6. Granny Weatherwax says that just because the gods EXIST, there's no call to go BELIEVING in them.
