by Craig Cabell
‘The body, they assure us, changes its atoms every seven years or so, being therefore totally different at twenty-eight from what it was at twenty-one, but science does not commit itself with regard to mental changes, such changes being doubtless incommensurable… am I the man who wrote these tales so many years ago, or am I someone else?’
Algernon Blackwood (Author’s Preface, Selected Tales)
I do agree that the sonic screwdriver is overused nowadays, but the main problem I have with Doctor Who is that it is disposable. Each episode is a rush against time that has to be killed dead in just under 50 minutes (or maybe two 50-minute episodes if you’re lucky). The attention span of the television consumer has dwindled over the past 50 years. In the 1960s, Doctor Who could easily stretch a story over six or seven weeks (at least) in episodes of 25 minutes, but the present fan is apparently unable to cope with such frustrations. Life in the 21st century moves at a much faster pace; everybody wants their entertainment now. Music and movie downloads have made the younger consumer less patient: they don’t need a lyric booklet with pretty pictures with their favourite CD, they just want the music on their iPod now; they don’t want a hardback novel that has to be stored and loved, they want titles on their Kindle now. Things need to be done immediately, and society as a whole has begun to accept this.
As we move into a more computerised/virtual world, we find that taste is dictated by TV and word of mouth (that’s if you can get the headphones off your friend in order to speak to them). People have become more insular, younger folk pinned to their bedroom laptops to prod a friend on Facebook, under-age youths assassinating criminals and Nazi zombies on PS3 then gloating about it on Skype, or texting their poor little fingers to oblivion (surely bad for teenage girls’ fingernails?).
Traditional values are being reassessed. The LP lost out to the CD and now the CD has lost out to the download. Video lost out to the DVD, but the DVD has now lost out to the download too and, eventually, the time-honoured book will lose out to the download as well. But more obscure traditions are going too (evolving?). The photo album is no longer a tangible part of a family bookcase; it sits in a virtual library or on a computer backup system. The wristwatch is now a digital display on everybody’s mobile phone rather than a possession that sits on an individual’s wrist. The downside to this latter change is that it’s just a matter of time before children will not be able to tell the time on a traditional clock face.
Is what I’m saying science fiction? Indeed, some of it is. It is a forward-looking projection of the near future, but it is not a fantasy of the near future. That would be something like every house having a red dragon that told the time, televisuals plumbed straight into the consumer’s head by organic scart lead and controlled by blue pixies listening to Led Zeppelin, and a flat Discworld sitting on the back of four elephants standing on the back of a great turtle swimming through space.
My analysis of different genres in this book is based upon the beliefs set out above. I apologise to high-street bookstores for any inconvenience caused, but there are defining lines within genres, and Pratchett knows that too. But, I hear you cry yet again: the turtle in the Discworld is travelling through space, so surely Discworld is science fiction or at least a strong crossover?
I totally disagree, because the fantasy outweighs the science fiction. There is no deep exploration of space across the Discworld novels. There are wizards (even a female one), witches, dragons, dwarves, goblins, and much more fantasy imagery than there are science fiction elements. To understand Discworld and the life and work of Terry Pratchett, you have to go to what is at the heart of his passion for writing and at the heart of his most important series – fantasy – otherwise nothing fantastic can come from any analysis of his life and works. And if the high-street bookshops refuse to place fantasy novels on the bestseller shelves, then they are clearly overlooking one of the most popular genres and not addressing the public’s need for some extreme escapism in these troubled times. No wonder so many people now shop online. The ability to browse in bookshops will become a thing of the past, bookshops will cease to exist, and consequently people will become more insular – and less broad-minded – about their tastes. The eclectic consumer will become a thing of the past, so perhaps the fantasy novel will become an important genre, one that teaches people to use their imaginations again, to step back from the machines they so slavishly play with.
I recall the journal of the publishing industry, The Bookseller, calling for something to get children off computer games and, just when all seemed lost, up popped JK Rowling and the young Harry Potter. At that time, Pratchett was the country’s most popular writer, but now we can say the top two writers in the country are both fantasy writers. And if that is not an interesting fact for you, witness the fact that Harry Potter books cannot be found in the science fiction/fantasy part of the bookshop, nor the children’s section, nor even the general fiction department: they sit on the bestseller shelves.
It is important to have genres, to define what we as consumers want for our entertainment, and let us hope that the high street wakes up to the importance and popularity of the fantasy genre and gives it the respect it so richly deserves. Yes, people do have their own interpretation of what fantasy is, and that may muddy the waters somewhat, but if great works of fantasy are to be showcased, then there must be an area of the bookstore that is forever fantastic and that includes not just the latest sword-and sorcery-titles but many of the books I list in the Further Reading section at the back of this book. There is more to the fantasy genre than meets the eye. Women didn’t always wear tight black leather and ringlets; certainly not Alice in her wonderland, not Hermione Granger, and certainly not the women and children in Hamelin town by famous Hanover city!
‘He started and rubbed his eyes. He had been so absorbed in the latter-day substitute for a novel, that he awoke to the little green and white room with more than a touch of the surprise of his first awakening.’
HG Wells (When the Sleeper Wakes)
Part One
The Road to Dreams
‘… it is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for a succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule.’
JRR Tolkien (‘The Return of the King’,
The Lord of the Rings)
CHAPTER ONE
Early On
Terry David John Pratchett was born on 28 April 1948 in the town of Beaconsfield, Buckinghamshire. He was the only child of David and Eileen Pratchett of Hay-on-Wye. Terry’s father was an engineer and his mother was a secretary. In 1957 the family moved to Bridgwater, Somerset, for a short period, before Pratchett passed his 11-plus exams in 1959 and went to Wycombe Technical High School, Easton Street, High Wycombe.* He could have gone on to grammar school but had no desire to follow the purely academic lifestyle.
The school moved to Marlowe Hill in 1966, shortly after Pratchett left it, and is known today as the John Hampden Grammar School.
In Who’s Who Pratchett says he was educated in the Beaconsfield Public Library. This slightly flippant remark has an element of truth in it, as it was there he found his passion for books by reading fantastical stories. ‘I became a reader at the age of ten and have never stopped,’ he said. ‘Like many authors, I read all sorts of books all the time…’ What books? Pratchett cites Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows as a major influence on his writing style, and one that has endured over the years. But once he got the reading bug, his appetite became voracious. He states that he had read all the James Bond books available to him by the age of 12, which was most of the original Ian Fleming titles at that time.
When he was old enough, Pratchett took a Saturday job in the local library. He wasn’t paid for it, but, as he now jokes, they turned a blind eye to him having about ‘256 library tickets’ – Pratchett left wi
th two carrier bags of books twice a week. So the library really did become an important part of his education, as he recalls: ‘One day the librarian handed me three books tied together with string, saying: “I think these will be completely up your street.” It was The Lord of the Rings, which I read in one 24-hour sitting.’
The influence of The Lord of the Rings on Pratchett was immense. He describes his feelings of reading the book by discussing the prejudice in it. ‘I remember always feeling sorry for the orcs… the elves always seemed to be up to something and the humans always seemed to fall from grace, but the orcs were the lowest of the low and beyond redemption.’
Pratchett has always had an enquiring mind. The way he questions the different species in The Lord of the Rings is in character with the way he distinguishes different cultures sympathetically in the Discworld series today.
‘Rincewind had always liked boredom, treasuring it if only because of its rarity and value… The only time he could look back on with a certain amount of fondness was his brief spell as assistant Librarian at Unseen University, when there wasn’t much to do except read books…’
(Eric)
When one hears Pratchett recall his bookish youth, one begins to appreciate the grip books had on him and the process that led to authorship. ‘It cannot be stressed often enough that before you can become a writer, you have to be a reader, and a reader of everything at that,’ he states, and there is a lot of truth in that.
Although Pratchett read as much as he could in many different genres, it was two specific genres that left a lasting impression on him, as he recalls: ‘It was science fiction and fantasy that got me reading and science fiction writers in particular have pack rat minds.’
‘Rocket ships did not conquer space; they merely challenged it. A rocket leaving Earth at seven miles per second is terribly slow for the vast reaches beyond. Only the Moon is reasonably near – four days, more or less. Mars is thirty-seven weeks away, Saturn a dreary six years, Pluto an impossible half century, by the elliptical orbits possible to rockets.’
Robert A Heinlein (Tunnel in the Sky)
The exploration of space, as written by the great science fiction writers, combined with an early love of astronomy to set Pratchett’s young mind ablaze. It is interesting to note that after his first novel (The Carpet People), his next two (The Dark Side of the Sun and Strata) are considered to be more science fiction than fantasy.
‘There was no sound now in the observatory, and the lantern waned steadily. Outside there was the occasional cry of some animal in alarm or pain, or calling to its mate, and the intermittent sounds of the Malay and the Dyak servants. Presently one of the men began a queer chanting song, in which the others joined at intervals.’
HG Wells (In the Avu Observatory)
Science fiction writers opened Pratchett’s eyes to other possibilities later on, as he explains: ‘They introduced all sorts of interesting themes and ideas into their books, and so for me it was a short leap from fantasy and science fiction genres to folklore, mythology, ancient history and philosophy.’
If Pratchett’s spare time was spent in the local library or secondhand bookshop (another favourite haunt of the youngster), what was he like at school? Children who read are normally the quiet, often bullied, members of the class, but Pratchett won most of his peers over by being the joker. He used his imagination to make up stories that made the other children laugh, which is often noted as being a quirk of a future writer. Pratchett recalls that he used to doodle and draw characters in his notebooks at school and sometimes he would also write quirky bits of text, some recalled years later as vignettes in his novels. However, one piece he wrote (which he can’t now find) was a blend of JRR Tolkien and Jane Austen. He recalls a particularly good bit where the orcs take over the local rectory. So here we have an example of how developed Pratchett’s quirky style was in his youth: we have his love of fantasy books, his love of writing, his keen sense of humour, but also, and most importantly, his desire to parody, mixing the greatest book of the 20th century, The Lord of the Rings, with a tried-and-tested literary classic.
‘It was like being in a Jane Austen novel, but one with far less clothing.’
(Nation)
Did Pratchett do all this again with his first Discworld novel? No, he didn’t. By that time he had moved on and was parodying the whole fantasy genre and only gently parodying characters from peerless classics.
Apart from providing Pratchett with a venue to entertain his fellow students with his literary attempts, how did Wycombe Technical High School develop his talents?
Pratchett recalls that it was noted on his school reports that he had a good imagination, but, as he jokes, the comments were normally written as negative aspects of his school life – comments like ‘should pay more attention in class’ instead of ‘bound for literary stardom’. But the school also nurtured Pratchett’s talents, as he wrote his first short story there at the age of 13 (‘The Hades Business’ in 1961), which was published in the school magazine. Pratchett’s headteacher, however, condemned the moral tone of the story. Why? The basic plot was slightly subversive, especially for a child of 13: the Devil is having trouble recruiting souls for Hell, so he decides to get a business partner to create a theme park out of Hades, thus encouraging people to join. The Hades theme park becomes successful – so much so that the Devil decides to give up Hell and return to Heaven – just for a little peace and quiet.
To my mind, like so many of his short stories in the 1960s, there is an underlying message in the story if one wants to find it. Cheats never prosper, for example, could be a good moral pay-off for ‘The Hades Business’, so I’m sure the headteacher noticed something of merit in Pratchett’s work.* Despite the headteacher’s concerns, other stories followed in the school magazine, such as ‘Solution’ and ‘The Picture’.* Two years later (in 1963), ‘The Hades Business’ was published in Science Fantasy magazine and with the money he made from this sale Pratchett decided to buy himself a typewriter.
Some people also see a comparison with Pratchett’s fourth Discworld novel Mort.
These two stories definitely appeared in the school magazine, but as Pratchett never kept copies of them, it is uncertain how many others were printed.
Appearing in Science Fantasy magazine was a great achievement. By August 1963 the magazine was in its 12th year and had won a lot of respect. Volume 20, No 60 (Pratchett’s issue) boasted a short story ‘Same Time, Same Place’ by Mervyn Peake and an appreciation of Peake by Michael Moorcock. Pratchett’s achievement of appearing in Science Fantasy magazine at the age of 15 is not one to be taken lightly.
The very act of submitting the story to Science Fantasy magazine shows that Pratchett believed in his own abilities and had a desire to be a published writer. Buying the typewriter proved his passion for doing so. Again, it is an impressive and very single-minded thing for a 15-year-old to do, but he remained level-headed about the future. ‘When I was a little lad and thought about being a writer, I remember reading that the chances of making any kind of living at all from it were so low as to be negligible,’ he recalled. But the dream was there.
‘Like a child lost in the chasmic mazes of a darkening forest, so was Titus lost in the uncharted wilderness of a region long forgotten. As a child might stare in wonder and apprehension along an avenue of dusk and silence, and then, turning his head along another, and another, each as empty and breathless, so Titus stared in apprehension and with a hammering heart along the rides and avenues of stone.’
Mervyn Peake (Gormenghast)
Before the sale of ‘The Hades Business’, Pratchett had shown no real indication as to what he wanted to do in life. In retrospect, the move from insatiable reader to writer seems a natural one, but it was continued success that inspired him to consider a future as a writer. He wasn’t being rejected, he was being encouraged.
Pratchett has described himself as a ‘bolshy’ kid. This is not to say that he was naughty, just a littl
e headstrong. He knew his own mind and had a determination to see things through. This is echoed throughout his youth, from reading the whole of The Lord of the Rings in one sitting, to studying hard at school. He seemed to know instinctively what his priorities in life were.
So was Pratchett doing well academically? To a degree, yes; but, as he now explains, he did find maths a struggle, eventually parking an early ambition to be an astronomer because it meant you had to be good at figures.
He enjoyed more creative subjects. At school he loved lessons such as design technology (notably woodwork) rather than the more academic lessons such as maths and Latin. Outside school, Pratchett and his father were members of the Chiltern Amateur Radio Club (from the early 1960s), where their sense of humour was clear in their joint call sign: Home-brew R1155. So given the desire to play around with technology combined with a love of woodwork, one might expect that Pratchett seemed destined for a more practical career – not unlike his father – rather than writing. As it turned out, all these practical skills were nothing more than hobbies, as well as fuel for an active imagination.
