I am not a fan of literature of fantasy. I don't like books about dragons and talking animals, long-lost heirs to the throne, evil wizards, and knights in shining armor. I have no patience for distant planets or medieval alternate universes with silly names. I didn't enjoy the Lord of the Rings trilogy or The Chronicles of Narnia when I read them in school. The only exception to this rule, however, is the Harry Potter series. Even though HP is full of wizards and witches, trolls, gnomes, dragons and mermaids, the story is set not in some fictional kingdom of yore or on another planet, but in present-day England. The characters are ordinary people who just happen to have magical abilities. So the stories seem less, well, fantastic. But long before J.K. Rowling could ever dream of becoming the richest woman in all of Great Britain, there was Terry Pratchett. And I now have another exception to my anti-literature of fantasy rule.
My sister recently exposed me to Pratchett, one of her favorite authors. She is a devout sci-fi and fantasy fan and always has been. She loved Planet of the Apes and Star Trek as a child. When we were kids she had to see Star Wars a second time when it first came out, and I had to go with her because it was the only way our mother would let her go to the movies without being accompanied by a parent or guardian. As an adult, I've gone with her to no less than three Star Trek TNG conventions (that's The Next Generation), but only on the condition that she pay my admission fees, of course. (For the record, I've now seen Stryker, Data, and Troi in person, not that I'd readily admit it, though). My sister has seen every episode of Dr. Who and can name all ten actors who portrayed him. Me, I'm only interested in the current one because David Tennant is only the HOTTEST Dr. Who ever! (Plus, I must admit, the writing and production values are way superior to the previous series).
My sister has about thirteen books by Pratchett. Seeing them all lined up on her bookshelf one day, so many that she started a second row in front of the first, I became curious. I asked her what she would recommend I start with, seeing that I can't really get "into" dragons and wizards and such, unless, as I've mentioned, it's at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She explained the whole premise of Discworld, the land in which all of Pratchett's books take place. Discworld is, like in most literature of fantasy novels, a medieval kind of world. But it's full of modern anachronisms, like neon lights, takeout pizzas and rib joints, and strip clubs. Currency is in dollars and pence. Discworld, in the author's own words, started out as a parody of the fantasy literature boom of the early Eighties (hmm, that might be why I like it!). There are several segments of society within Discworld -- mini-series within the series. Some books deal with the witches of Discworld, some deal with the local law enforcement, etc. My sister recommended I start out with the City Watch books, the ones dealing with law enforcement in Discworld, and lent me "Guards! Guards!" It's the first book in the City Watch series, and I find that I can't put it down.
Pratchett's books, although firmly catagorized as literature of fantasy, are hysterically funny and satirical. They're like Monty Python meets J.R.R. Tolkein. Pratchett has a gift for crafting dialogue that is at once seemingly mundane yet hysterically funny. It's the dialogue that advances the story effortlessly and makes it so enjoyable to read.
The first Discworld book was published in 1983. There are now 33 books in the series. Which means I have a lot of reading to catch up on.
Terry Pratchett's official website is www.terrypratchettbooks.com.
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