by Craig Cabell
‘And then there was only the snow.
After a while, it began to melt in the sun.’
(Hogfather)
Since the dawn of time, every human being has been born of woman, lived and died. Some have had children along the way and made some contribution to the legacy of the human race. But why is it, without prompt, that a child will run from the bathroom once they have turned the light out at night, just as their parents did, just as their grandparents had done, without any true reason to do so, without any real justification?
For me, this is where Pratchett wins the biggest points because he supposes that somewhere way back in time, somebody had
the wildest and biggest scare possible and the legacy of that has been passed down genetically through countless generations.
‘… and there presently rose to my nostrils the subtle, penetrating perfume of age: of letters, long preserved, with ink faded and ribbon pale; of scented tresses, golden and brown, laid away, ah, how tenderly! among pressed flowers that still held the inmost delicacy of their forgotten fragrance; the scented presence of lost memories…’
Algernon Blackwood (‘The House of the Past’,
Tales of the Uncanny and Supernatural)
The fear of the unknown, the darkness lost in the mists of time, these are the chilling – thrilling – factors that create suspense, wonder and intrigue. These are the ingredients that make bestselling novels and hit movies. And to be thrilled is better than the need to be horrified: that is the difference between the need for make-believe and the horrors of reality, present-day or ancient.
‘They were sounds that I had heard many times before in my life, and yet they were still, for me, the most thrilling and evocative in the whole world. They consisted of a series of little soft metallic noises, of metal grating gently against metal, and they were made, they were always made by somebody who was very slowly, very cautiously, turning the handle of one’s door from the outside.’
Roald Dahl (‘The Visitor’, Switch Bitch)
CHAPTER ELEVEN
If Music be the Food of Love
‘Other children got given xylophones. Susan just had to ask her grandfather to take his vest off.’
(Soul Music)
The dark majesty of the music of Thomas Tallis in a piece such as ‘Spem in Alium’ (‘Life in Any Other’ – a piece for eight choirs of five voices) exposes the gentleness and calm at the centre of Pratchett’s life. The author rates the 16th-century English composer highly and, if one looks at the almost Amishlike whites and blacks of Pratchett’s taste in clothing and interior design, one can detect a love of more conservative and simple times.
Tallis was an Elizabethan composer who wrote music to please his queen and the nation as a whole. His pieces are now considered to be best suited for grand cathedrals and state occasions. He was not a composer in the style of Bach or Mozart; he lived and wrote in a time when the music of heavenly choirs was more sought after than that of instruments. Simple beauty is something that appeals to Pratchett, and for a spiritual person – rather than a deeply religious one – he shows his empathy for assumed religious music through compositions adopted by it.
Simplicity in music has created highly praised milestones in different genres throughout history, witness ‘Silent Night’ or John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’. Things don’t have to be complicated. Ask any writer – draft number one is normally better than draft number 56, because the meaning isn’t obscured by too many metaphors or similes.
‘The person on the other side was a young woman. Very obviously a young woman. There was no possible way that she could have been mistaken for a young man in any language, especially Braille.’
(Maskerade)
See what I mean! When people talk about the secret of writing a bestseller, the obvious answer is KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid). Write what you know about and don’t try too hard are the watchwords. When you open a book, the voice of the author should be there, and all the great writers have that ability to engage with their own voice, from Frederick Forsyth to Julia Donaldson.
‘The wind howled. The storm crackled on the mountains. Lightning prodded the crags like an old man trying to get an elusive blackberry pip out of his false teeth.’
(Maskerade)
The voice of your favourite author is as comfortable and reassuring as a favourite shirt, a reliable old pair of shoes; instantly you get it, and want to be part of the new adventure, and there is an effortlessness that draws you across the pages and from the front of the book to the back. Pratchett found this with authors such as Tolkien, and now many people find it with him.
In 1997 Pratchett appeared on the radio programme Desert Island Discs. His choice of music was eclectic but revealing, citing the traditional song ‘Thomas the Rhymer’ by Steeleye Span as his favourite track. Steeleye Span are an English folk-rock band, initially formed in 1969. Best known for their 1975 hit ‘All Around My Hat’, they are, along with Fairport Convention, one of the best known bands of the British folk revival and a world away from Thomas Tallis, but then again so were some of Pratchett’s other choices, from Vivaldi and Mozart to the Australian band Icehouse and Meat Loaf. And it’s with the last-mentioned artist that we see a strong comparison with Pratchett’s fiction: the character Death on his motorbike evoking the famous image of Meat Loaf’s ‘Bat Out of Hell’ flying out of the stage; indeed, that was the very track Pratchett selected for Desert Island Discs.
‘… someone tentatively picked up a musical instrument that echoed to the rhythm in their soul.’
(Soul Music)
When it comes to music, Pratchett wears his heart on his sleeve and we see bits of his personality in his choices. It’s almost like music influences his personality and shapes his writing – it’s certainly an important part of his life. Another of his Desert Island Discs was Bernard Miles’ ‘The Race for the Rhinegold Stakes’. Miles was a writer, actor and director well known for his comic monologues, and one can picture Pratchett and his father listening to him while members of the Chiltern Amateur Radio Club. Like most people his age, Pratchett grew up listening to the radio and enjoying the great comedians of the second part of the 20th century. Great acts such as the Goons and shows such as Round the Horne, The Navy Lark and Hancock’s Half Hour would appeal to his irreverent sense of humour.
‘“Dad da da dum! Doesn’t that stir anything in you?”’
Douglas Adams (Ford Prefect to a Vogan guard,
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy)
In Soul Music Pratchett picks up on the same classical composition as Ford Prefect (above), albeit ‘Dah dah dah DAH’. It seems there are impressive but simple pieces of music that echo throughout time and space, and are used to such fitting ends by iconoclasts such as Pratchett and Douglas Adams.
Soul Music is drenched in musical goodies. With characters like Cliff and Buddy, one naturally thinks of Cliff Richard and Buddy Holly from the 1950s music scene. And then you have titles such as ‘BORN TO RUNE’ screaming out at you and simultaneously paying tribute to the iconic 1970s album Born to Run, by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.
Of course Death has to get involved, and the threat of playing down at the crossroads to save your soul (not unlike Eric Clapton) becomes a very real possibility, although it fails to show. Pratchett really runs through the history of pop/rock music in Soul Music, acutely understanding what makes it tick and therefore striking a chord within people.
With each of his books, Pratchett picks a theme and exploits it fully. He turns all the clichés around and provides the audience with a different take on traditional themes.
‘“Live fast. Die young.”
The music tugged at his soul.’
(Soul Music)
Soul Music pokes fun at popular music and the insatiable lust of youth, exploiting all the clichés along the way. ‘Never age. Never die. Live for ever in that one last white-hot moment, when the crowd screamed. When every note was a heartbeat.’
&nb
sp; But as with his Desert Island Discs choices, Pratchett doesn’t just look at popular music of the late 20th century. He goes back and looks at more traditional pockets of music, such as opera, which he deals with in Maskerade through a parody of Gaston Leroux’s The Phantom of the Opera. Yes, of course the chandelier that hangs over the audience is just an accident waiting to happen, but it’s not just these tongue-in-cheek asides that drive the book, it is the music too. It is the glue that keeps the soul of the opera house together. Good music – like good books and love – never dies.
Maskerade is a Discworld novel in the witches series and begins with Agnes Nitt leaving Lancre to seek fame and fortune at the opera house in Ankh-Morpork. This is where the paths of influential witches cross. Granny Weatherwax finds out that Nanny Ogg has written a popular cookbook but has not been paid by the publisher. The witches leave Ankh-Morpork to collect the money, as well as attempting to entice Agnes Nitt into their coven.
Agnes becomes a member of the opera house chorus and meets Christine, who begins to get more leading roles because the resident murderous ghost demands it of the management. But all is not as it seems, and murder, dodgy finance and intrigue are rife, echoing the greed and power of the money people behind the music industry in the real world today. One could say that the ghost is only using exploitation, like a maniac agent.
It is interesting that Maskerade and Soul Music were released close together in the Discworld series, but this is typical Pratchett not letting a train of thought go. He needed to look at certain themes in different ways and this is something we see time and time again in his work. Only when he has got something out of his system does he finally let it go and move on to the next theme. So are Maskerade and Soul Music inextricably linked? I think so. Both are hugely enjoyable novels about music and the influence it has on people and, when we see the favouritism for Christine in Maskerade, we assume that favouritism through attraction will always outshine talent, and indeed Agnes is the victim in this situation.
‘“I mean, everyone acts as if it’s only the music that matters! The plots don’t make sense! Half the stories rely on people not recognising their servants or wives because they’ve got a tiny mask on! Large ladies play the part of consumptive girls! No one can act properly!… There should be a sign on the door saying ‘Leave your common sense here’! If it wasn’t for the music the whole thing would be ridiculous!”’
(Maskerade)
Pratchett casts a pessimistic eye over the world of opera in Maskerade, which is something he doesn’t really do in Soul Music. He seems more in tune with pop and rock music than opera, and that is clearly shown through his Desert Island Discs selection as well.
Pratchett rounded off his desert island experience by selecting Edible Plants of the South Seas by Emile Massal as his book of choice, clearly a practical selection, but still showing his love of horticulture. Picking New York’s Chrysler Building as his luxury item was probably taking fantasy a step too far!
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Long Dark Tea Party of the Soul
‘“As though Nature… here and there concealed vacuums, gaps, holes in space (his mind was always speculative; more than speculative, some said)…”’
Algernon Blackwood (‘Entrance and Exit’)
Lots of writers have a morbid fascination with the darker side of life. We see this most prevalently in crime, horror, science fiction and fantasy writing. It’s as though people are only entertained if there is a darkness – an evil – that people have to do battle with. One could suggest that this is society’s call for more bloodshed, since the explicitness of the horror genre dates from the early to mid-1970s with the arrival of Stephen King and James Herbert. But why should we blame those guys? Explicit horror has been around since mankind could dream in technicolour.
But it’s not gore I want to explore here, it is Darkness with a capital D. The Darkness of Poe, Dickens, Shelley, Stoker, Doyle and Stevenson – some call it gothic or macabre but they’re wrong – is the crux of page-turning mystery, and by mystery I mean an audience’s desire to know what happens next. It’s where I believe Dan Brown has got it all wrong. If The Da Vinci Code and Angels and Demons had been dark rather than horrific, they would have been much better books. There are of course books that need horror, such as The Rats and Lair (from James Herbert’s The Rats trilogy), but even he brought in other elements in Domain (the series’ finale) to create one of his most exciting and thought-provoking novels.
There are some novels, however, that exploit the Darkness beautifully – with Herbert, witness Others – but there is also Stephen Laws’ Macabre and the lesser-known novel The Pastor by Philip Trewinnard. Moving away from horror and into fantasy, we can witness the Darkness in Coraline (Neil Gaiman), The Thief of Always (Clive Barker) and I Shall Wear Midnight by Terry Pratchett. Every book is a field day for movie director Tim Burton because he understands how the Darkness should be played, Edward Scissorhands and The Corpse Bride being very good examples. The same can be said within the science fiction genre. Looking at Doctor Who alone, ‘The Empty Child’, ‘Blink’ and ‘42’ are fine examples of how Darkness is conjured within the show’s comeback seasons with Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant.
Let us now explore the Darkness in the mindset of Terry Pratchett with regard to the Tiffany Aching novels. The Wee Free Men was a children’s book, A Hatful of Sky and Wintersmith less so, but I Shall Wear Midnight definitely not. Why is that? Because it harbours the Darkness.
‘She got one hour’s sleep before the nightmare began.’
(I Shall Wear Midnight)
Pratchett lives at a slower pace nowadays. Whether that is because of the diagnosis of his Alzheimer’s or just the process of getting older is unclear. He admitted to The Times in May 2011 that he pays ‘more attention to the details of nature now. I tend to see things more clearly in the garden, which is totally contradictory [to the symptoms of his Alzheimer’s]. I’ll see the details in the flowers or the birds and things like that.’
This is a very telling quote. There is so much one overlooks in everyday life, which one takes for granted, and this has been an important theme in Pratchett’s work over the years. Algernon Blackwood was very much influenced by Earth Power and the unseen doorways in nature (see ‘Entrance and Exit’, ‘The Willows’, ‘The Wendigo’, ‘A Haunted Island’ and even ‘The House of the Past’). As Pratchett walked through his garden during The Times interview, one almost expected the Nac Mac Feegle to make an appearance, and indeed the conversation goes exactly that way, with Pratchett saying that the day after his Alzheimer’s was diagnosed he thought he saw ‘“a pixie in a red hat”. He looked away and told himself that it must have been a flower or some red leaves. But when he looked at the spot again, there was no flower, no red leaves.’
Tiffany Aching once said that one day she would wear midnight – to be a qualified witch – and perhaps Pratchett is proving himself equally worthy. He did go on to say that he didn’t really think it was a pixie and therefore didn’t tell anybody about his experience. But there is a very important point here. The Bible tells us about all that is seen and unseen, and added to that should be the things we choose not to see or appreciate in everyday life. It’s as though human conditioning takes away the power that allows us to stop and look more deeply into what lies around us, which probably explains why children normally have the natural power of second sight and not adults.
‘But somewhere – some time – there’s a tangled ball of evil and spite, of hatred and malice, that has woken up. And it’s waking up all the old stories too – stories about evil old witches.’
(Jacket blurb, I Shall Wear Midnight)
Tiffany Aching is now a witch caring for the sick and elderly, but because she deals with people, she sees the Darkness that festers inside the home. People open up to her and talk about the darker side of life. She tries to hold back – but that’s the only place where she will find the power to wear midnight.
; ‘“… If you chopped your hand off I could probably make you forget about it until you tried to eat your dinner, but things like loss, grief and sadness? I can’t do that. I wouldn’t dare meddle with them. There is something called ‘the soothing’, and I know only one person in the world who can do that, and I’m not even going to ask her to teach me. It’s too deep.”’
(I Shall Wear Midnight)
The thing that really intrigues me about I Shall Wear Midnight is the progression of magic. Tiffany Aching is proving herself to be a witch of power. She is tackling adult problems, the darker areas of life that exist after youth and are influenced by stress, relationship problems, ill health and downright cruelty. These are issues that haven’t appeared in Pratchett’s novels before, not in a real everyday sense. Domestic violence thwarted by magic, or a negotiation of things that could be construed as magic if performed by a witch, shows a maturity for Tiffany Aching, a girl who has learned important lessons in life. Early in the book, she talks about learning from her elders, not just Granny Weatherwax but Nanny Ogg too. This is akin to a teenager listening to the life philosophy of their grandparents. This is confirmed by Tiffany admitting to herself that Nanny Ogg was good at old magic, which was magic that didn’t need witches and was built into the landscape and concerned death, marriage, betrothals and the promises never spoken out loud; fundamental things older people knew about.
‘You didn’t need to be a witch to understand it. The world around you became more – well, more fluid, at those special times.’
