Arthur Goldstuck
HOGFATHER (Corgi Books, R51); JINGO (Victor Gollancz, R112) both by Terry Pratchett
Some authors annoy their fans intensely by producing a book every year or two, filling up their bookshelves and depleting their wallets. If Terry Pratchett’s six-monthly release-schedule has a similar impact, none of his fans have voiced even a hint of complaint. The reality is that Pratchett is addictive. He may well be the ultimate god of the world he created, yet he seems to revel in each new discovery about its nature and people. And his revelry translates into sheer delight for his readers.
It is all the more amazing, then, that the theme of each new novel is so dramatically distinctive that his more dedicated fans can usually rattle off a potted summary of any of the last 19 Discworld novels. Numbers 20 and 21 maintain this tradition. Hogfather, now out in paperback, gives the Pratchett treatment to the spirit of Christmas, or rather, the lack thereof. Beyond the delicious wit that is the author’s trademark we also find a wise understanding of the nature of folklore, belief and religious symbolism, to mention a few powerful underlying themes.
Old-time Pratchett readers know about this wisdom thing, which is more often disguised by the writer’s sheer irreverence. Such is the case in his latest novel, Jingo. On the surface, so to speak, it is about an ancient lost land that rises above the sea once more, igniting a war of words and weapons between Ankh-Morpork, a vague allegory for all the urban sins of the Western world, and the Arabian-inspired land of Klatch. Beneath the surface it is a fascinating study of xenophobia and military tactics.
It is such undertones and overtones that are often missed by what Pratchett refers to affectionately as the “fanboys” — those over-dedicated followers who read unintended significance into every quip or gag, and then fail to see the meaning of it all. Even worse are those who find spurious sources for Pratchett’s ideas.
“If you’re writing humour in a certain direction, there are only a limited number of options open. It gets on my nerves when someone says that a line like ‘today is a good day to die’ was stolen from Star Trek. Long before it became a Klingon saying, it was a war cry of the Lakota Indians,” he pointed out during a promotional visit to South Africa this week
Pratchett’s very presence captured something of the essence of his writing. Round-faced, bearded and smiling impishly, he could have stepped right out of the Discworld, an idea emphasised by his T- shirt’s Latin slogan, which the more scholarly among his fans might have translated as “I have a catapult. Give me all your money or I will heave an enormous rock at your head.”
Buying his books is, of course, a cheaper and slightly more pleasant alternative.