Monday 16 January 2017

Hard Endings

I first found Terry Pratchett about 1985, when I was 17. I picked up a copy of Strata from a newsagent because I thought it sounded interesting, and then had to hunt down Dark Side of the Sun (the newsagent near my work carried all sorts of books, including Tanith Lee. Not what one would expect). A year later I found The Colour of Magic and fell headlong into the world of the Disc.

The first two books were, by Mr Pratchett's own admission, an opportunity to tell lots of jokes, the story mainly serving as a platform for said jokes. But then it switched. From Equal Rites onwards the story was the focus and the jokes served it. Served it so well, but still served rather than ruled.

I have loved those stories. I would wait (sometimes not very patiently) for the next one to come out, and would disappear into the new book until it was read. My kids have grown up with Mum periodically doing everything while reading. Amazing how much of dinner can be prepared one-handed.

Each book was deeper than the one before, and in the meantime others would come along. The Johnny Maxwell books (Only You Can Save Mankind And If Not You Who Else, Johnny and the Dead, Johnny and the Bomb), The Unadulterated Cat (never was a truer book written about catkind), Truckers, Diggers, Wings. Good Omens with Neil Gaiman. And just recently the Long Earth Books with Stephen Baxter. But always there was the Disc, and Great A'Tuin and the Elephants. I have a copy of Where's My Cow? which I read to my youngest when he was younger, so by the time he was old enough last year to start entering the Discworld on his own he was well acquainted with Sam Vimes, and Lord Vetenari ("Please, don't let me detain you") and Foul Old Ron.

From 2000 the stories became darker, well before his 2007 diagnosis of early onset Alzheimer's, and ,in my opinion at least, the darkness made them even better. Most, but not all, of my favourites date from this time on.

I was lucky enough to meet Mr Pratchett several times over the years and always found a generous man willing to talk to fans and play in games (see? It pays to be a con nerd) and to share his love of language and observing people. The last time I met him (many years ago now), he remembered me, which still fills me with wonder to this day.

And the books kept coming, and the Disc was part of my life.

And then, about eighteen months ago (so long?), Terry Pratchett died. He had so many stories still to tell, at least 20 years' worth. We were robbed, but not so much as his family were, for whom the loss must have been devestating.

I got a special edition of the final novel, the Shepherd's Crown, in a slip case. I got it out once, to look at it and then put it back on the shelf. When the paperback came out I got a copy of that, but it has only been in the last few days that I have screwed up the will to read it, and could at first only read it in small doses. Once that was done, there would be no more.

Paul Kidby, cover of The Shepherd's Crown by Terry Pratchett, 2015, Doubleday
There had been a few unfavourable reviews "you can tell he was going downhill", "the weakest novel", "lacking", etc. Gods, people can be shits. When Mr Pratchett wrote, he wrote in pieces and then put it together, and then polished, and then wrote extra links, and then went back and reworked parts, and then added new notes, and then wrote some more. And finally was forced to give a book to the publisher even though he felt there was still more to do. And admittedly, there are a couple of passages in the Shepherd's Crown where there was a little bit of polish missing. But other than that, there is no difference in quality, and certainly not in the story-telling. Tiffany Aching is one of my favourite characters, and Granny Weatherwax another. And he did not disappoint me with either of them.

I have to admit, I cried a lot in this book. At the beginning, because I was starting the last book, and then near the beginning because it was deeply moving. Then at several places in the book because it too was moving. On the train this afternoon, coming home from a day in Sydney, the woman beside me must have thought I was a nut because I was in floods. The end of the book was beautiful and sad and uplifting. And then it was the end of the book. And truth be told I took off my glasses, put my head in my hands and tried very hard not to sob. That was it. Done. The end of it all. And a good end. A good one to bow out on. But he was made to bow out. And when you look at the shits in this world who go on and on and on, it is wrong and unfair that people like Terry Pratchett are gone. Douglas Adams too. The week Adams died, some stupid security guy saved George W. Bush from choking on a peanut. Could we not have swapped that?

I had one longstanding gripe with the Discworld books, and that was the covers. A friend of mine was commissioned to do some book covers some time ago, so I know how it works. The artist is given a brief and has to do their best to interpret it. Sometimes, if they are lucky, they have read the book, but usually not. I never liked Josh Kirby's covers. They were sexist and overloaded. Granny particularly pissed me off. In Wyrd Sisters, Granny was very well described. She was not a haggard old crone with a hooked nose and crooked back, and there was not a wart to be seen. Yet, how did Kirby draw her? You guessed it. Complete witch stereotype. What was the publisher thinking? Since Paul Kidby took over, the covers have been much more satisfying. Folklore of the Discworld has a much better version of Granny adorning its cover. Kidby clearly read and loved the books and the amount of collaberation he did with Pratchett speaks volumes about how the author felt regarding the new interpretations.

Josh Kirby, cover of Wyrd Sisters by Terry Pratchett, 2008, Gollancz books. Had he actually read the description of Granny? I can't believe so
Paul Kidby, Granny Weatherwax from Maskerade:Patron of the Opera by Terry Pratchett, 2012. While the clothes are atypical (there are reasons for that. Read the book), this is otherwise Granny through and through. A man who knows the Discworld characters. Granny would bridle if I added "intimately", and Nanny would leer.
I think The Art of Discworld is the one thing I am now missing. Don't know how that happened. Time to pick it up.

There are drawings of Great A'Tuin upstairs somewhere, done over the years. But I shan't share them. They were drawn by me, for me, not as fan art. And anyway, Mr Kidby has done the definitive paintings of the Star Turtle, so that's that.

I wish I could say thank you to Mr Pratchett for thirty two years of wonderful stories. I really wish I could say thank you to him for many many more. As usual, Tiffany Aching helps to take the pain away. Time to go back to the beginning.