Welcome back to the Terry Pratchett Book Club! Today seems like a good day to put on your favorite tunes, knit a hat, do a mundane chore that doesn’t depress you, and pick up books that you like!
With that in mind, let’s push on to the next section of our reading party, “The Lure of the Wyrm”.
Summary
The Wrymberg is an inverted mountain. Once in range of it, Rincewind realizes that they are in the presence of powerful magic; this magic dates back to the Mage Wars when the first men fought the gods. The Old High Ones had to put an end to the fighting and banished the gods up high while making men smaller, and sucking a lot of magic out of the earth. But the places that were hit with spells during that war still have magic warping the reality around them because magic doesn’t die—it simply fades away. Rincewind, Twoflower, and Hrun make to leave the area. They are spied by Liessa Wyrmbidder and her dead father, a wizard who is keen to get his hands on Luggage. Liessa wishes to break the deadlock on the throne to Wyrmberg, a throne that would have been hers, had she been born a man. She only needs a man to be the figurehead so she can rule, and she thinks Hrun might be it. She saddles up her dragon to hunt them down.
Hrun tries to fight the dragons head on, while Twoflower is distracted because he desperately wants to see one, leaving Rincewind to attempt at fleeing. He is knocked out, and when he comes to, he finds a semi-transparent dragon and a mostly naked man standing watch. He escapes and come across Kring the sword in the forest. He means to flee with Kring, but the sword wants to rescue their compatriots and resolves to teach Rincewind about being a hero. They hold up the dragon rider K!sdra and his steed, and force them to take them both to Wyrmberg. Once there, Lio!rt Dragonlord assumes that Rincewind is a hero who means to challenge him in combat. They both have magic swords and engage in a duel. As they are fighting, Death appears, and Rincewind starts trying a little harder.
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Hrun and Twoflower are in a cell and Liessa barges in. She goes to stab a sleeping Hrun, but he stops her in his sleep and awakens. Liessa explains that Hrun could be of great use to her if he passes three tests—and he’s just passed the first one. The next is to kill her brothers. Twoflower speaks up, so she has him carried off, while Hrun goes to handle his next tasks. Stuck in his cell, Twoflower thinks of how badly he wanted to see dragons, and accidentally summons one into his cell, creating the dragon from his thoughts. It is willing to do his bidding, and helps him escape the cell and continue out. He names the dragon Ninereeds, and as they move through Wyrmberg, they discover Liessa’s father, Griecha the First. Because he is dead, he is unmoored from time and isn’t certain of the order of things.
Griecha explains to Twoflower that he has the Power, the ability to imagine dragons into being. This is something that Griecha himself once did, but his daughter isn’t as skilled with the Power because she doesn’t really believe in dragons (though his sons are far worse). She poisoned him three months back—which is normally how it goes for their line of succession—but he refuses to leave until only one of his three children remains. He tells Twoflower to go rescue his friend Rincewind from one of his sons. Rincewind is in the process of falling to his death and almost gets his entire spell out before being caught up by Twoflower and Ninereeds. In the meantime, Liessa sets Hrun to challenge her bothers, Lio!rt and Liartes, but they choose dragons as their weapons, ruining the gambit for Hrun. He still manages to knock both of them out, but he refuses to kill them when they’re unconscious, so Liessa resolves to banish them. Hrun then must undergo the third test, which is the sleep with Liessa, but he’s snatched away by Twoflower and Rincewind trying to rescue him.
Death appears to take Griecha. Ninereeds travels higher and higher until there is no more atmosphere and they all fall unconscious, which causes Ninereeds to disappear. Liessa catches Hrun on her dragon. Twoflower won’t wake up, so Rincewind tries to imagine a dragon himself, but Death reminds him that he can’t manage it—he doesn’t believe in them. He ends up manifesting a passenger jet instead, or rather, appearing in a passenger jet on another plane of existence that he has always existed on, as a fellow named Dr. Rjinswand. Luggage appears on the plane and breaks the reality, causing them to shift a few hundred miles away and fall into the Circle Sea. They later use Luggage as a raft.
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Okay, so this section is obviously a parody of Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonriders of Pern, specifically Dragonflight (which, similar to this book, is basically several novellas pasted together into the novel). And that tickles me for one particular reason: the Pern novels are well-known for being very sexy fare, which is the complete opposite of Pratchett’s M.O. In fact, I seem to recall reading an interview with Pratchett once where he chuckled over the fact that he’d never written a graphic sex scene in the entirety of his work, and then wondered if he’d ever end up taking a crack at it. To my knowledge, he never did. And that’s fine, of course—that sort of writing isn’t going to be everyone’s cuppa, and it’s not as though Pratchett ever pretends that sex doesn’t exist in his books. He’s just not interested in depicting it.
But the Pern books are very, very interested in telling you about sex and how people (and dragons) have it, so having this parody show up is extra funny, particularly within the parameters of a first novel. Coming directly after the Lovecraft parody, I appreciate the fact that Pratchett chose to move to a pastiche of a well-known female author, even if the Pern books have never quite been my thing personally. His description of Liessa—which seems like he’s just taking the protagonist name, Lessa, and putting a “lie” into it—feels a bit like he’s poking fun at the “special girl” trope (her hair is red flecked with gold and she’s super hot!), but she is still written as a person with agency, who has clear goals and desires. Plus royal drama that’s centered around needing to off your family members is always good for a laugh. See: Stardust, et al.
My favorite aspect of this is the fact that Liessa frames sleeping with her as the third “test” for Hrun—point being that if he’s not up to snuff, she can still get rid of the guy because she’s smart like that. (They are both equally cutthroat about this arrangement, which is part of why it works.) The Pern books could get a little squicky on that front, at least in hindsight, so giving us a scenario in which Liessa actually has control, and isn’t influenced by a dragon (or anything else), and he’s completely game, is a welcome change up to my mind.
The whole bit explaining how everything is upside-down in Wyrmberg is just… for some reason I cannot get my head around the descriptions, which I’m aware is my own brain’s problem. The visual is still excellent, so I can’t figure out why my brain reads those words and kind of ‘nope’s away from them. It’s strange because I usually only come across this problem with horror books, not with fantasy descriptions? Go figure.
Outside of the parody, this is a great little section to watch Rincewind get roped into yet more things that he wants nothing to do with. His particular brand of cowardice is great because it’s completely understandable cowardice—he’s not without bravery, he just hits a limit and then decides that if people aren’t going to listen to him, he might as well save himself. You can’t really argue with the logic because he does his due diligence. Unfortunately, he’s spending his time with a guy who does big heroing for a living, and the world’s most clueless traveler.
I appreciate this section a great deal because it’s the first time within the story that Twoflower actually proves his usefulness. Up until now, it’s all been about his haplessness and his relative misunderstandings, and needing to be rescued by all and sundry, but we finally get a measure of his strengths… and pointedly, they are tied to imagination. In many ways, it’s sort of lovely that the Disc’s resident “tourist” has such an impressive knack for that because it is, often, what prompts people to travel, isn’t it? We imagine what other places are like, and we want to experience them up close.
But more importantly, I’m a great big sucker for the trope of Believing In Magic Is Itself A Form of Magic. Which is exactly what we have here—Twoflower believes in dragons, and that’s the reason he can manifest one. That belief gives him power, and that’s beautiful because it is one of the only truly layman types of magic, when you get right down to it. It’s an equalizer than has nothing to do with station or skill or even learning.
Rincewind, on the other hand, manifests something truly ordinary by our own standards—a world that is, or is similar to, our own. It speaks again to his desire for rationality, science, logic, things that make sense. It also speaks to his innate sense of the world, which doesn’t really waver. People often believe that good stories require massive loads of character development, and often they do. (I myself am partial to stories that contain boatloads of character development.) But it takes a special kind of skill to tell a story about characters who don’t really change, and still remain interesting. Pratchett has told stories about both types over the course of his career, but often his characters who shine the most are the ones who don’t really change overmuch. Their stickiness is what makes them interesting.
Asides and little thoughts:
- We learn that Death is coming to get Rincewind because Death comes for wizards—your average folk, Death sends his subordinates for.
- The detail about the dragons getting more real the closer you get to Wyrmberg is so satisfying.
- Rincewind’s fear of heights is… ugh, it me. Twoflower’s point about the distance you fall not making much difference is darned sensible, but that’s not really what a fear of heights is about.
- In calling his dragon Ninereeds, we find that naming conventions for Twoflower’s people, which is charming as all get out.
They don’t make heroines like Liessa anymore. Or at least they make them wear more clothes.
Oh
Oh I used to love the Pern books, back when I was in junior high. What teenager can resist a bodice ripper with dragons? But then I read an interview with Anne McCaffrey and her contempt for the working class, for the poor, just put me right off her. As I recall, she said the drudges deserved to be drudges because they were lazy. Something like. Certainly not because they didn’t get opportunities or anything like that. And now I see her son has taken the reins of the Pern franchise.
Pratchett has more fun with his dragons. I’d have a far more agreeable time discussing the fine points of swamp dragon conformation with Lady Sybil than talking about anything with Lessa.
I love that Dr Rjinswand is a specialist in Breakaway Oxidation Phenomena of nuclear reactors. Or in other words – ones that are on fire and out of control. Very much Rincewind’s niche.
The dragons might explain themselves thusly: You think, therefore I am. ^_^
We’ll see no more of the Wyrmberg or these particular peculiar dragons on Discworld, and spend some delightful if too-short times with more-interesting dragons and the more-wonderful people who love them. In anticipation of that future fun, here’s Mark Oshiro flipping out about “swamp dragon puppies.” (starting at around 13 minutes), which I never tire of watching and reading.
Interesting Times will display much more about Twoflower’s culture, including more examples of the naming conventions. It’s very…problematic.
To anyone interested in critical discussion of the Pern series, I recommend Mari Ness’s 2019 reread here on Tor and/or the very in-depth and extremely disapproving deconstruction on the Slacktiverse; the latter began in May 2014 and is nearing completion.
This section was a hoot for me as I was still neck-deep in Pern at the time, and am still a big fan. The clash between Liessa and her brothers was a little more Byzantine than the plots of the previous two sections which made for a pleasant change of pace but didn’t diminish my enjoyment. Pratchett handles a bunch of different characters and plot lines quite nicely in this section, I think, and the little touches of history and colour make it an interesting, layered read. The upside-down sections are nicely handled, too, especially the “duel” between Rincewind and Lio!rt. It was also great to see Twoflower saving the day and being a lot more aware of the possible dangers they were in without losing his appeal as a character.
Tangent: Anne McCaffrey’s books were the first time I’d seen gay characters in fiction presented as heroic or anything other than flamboyant sidekicks or tragic, lonely figures and it really made a difference to 14-year-old me and my viewpoint of them. Regardless of how Ms McCaffrey may have felt or what she believed, that series was instrumental in me coming to terms with and accepting people with an alternative sexuality to mine.
Yeah, Death comes in person for wizards, witches, and important people…including most of the POV characters who die on-page in the series, and more besides. So I often forget that he doesn’t actually show up for everyone.
I wonder if TP was riffing on Stanislaw Lem’s short story ‘The Dragons of Probability’, which can be found in The Cyberiad. Here’s a nice description of the story:
https://tentoinfinity.com/2013/05/15/the-dragons-of-probability-by-stanislaw-lem/
I have most of Terry’s books on my Kindle although, I have all of his books in paperback and hardback.
Did any of you folks attend the 2002 Discworld Odyssey? They had a t-shirt with the Luggage on the back and the caption “My God, it’s full of stars”.
So with Terry, Neil Gaiman and Neil Stephenson and maybe Jasper Fforde, you’ve got my favorites.
@7 This might be my most intractable case of head canon. I know we’ve been told multiple times throughout the books that Death only shows up in person for certain types of small-d deaths, but every time, that knowledge just sort of slides off my brain in face of the fact that I can’t imagine Death of Reaper Man and Hogfather leaving anyone to die alone.
How could everyone miss the homage to Douglas Adams?
Terry obviously followed the H2G2 radio series. From the confusion of tenses (which Douglas says makes up much of the actual Hitchhiker’s Guide) to the appearance in the plane causing odd effects to occur throughout the universe just as the improbability drive does. The idea that Rincewind materialized with a past echoes the system at Milliways where after you arrive you can make a reservation and deposit in the past andiit will be waiting for you even if you didn’t know it in the present.
Beyond that, I only realized during this read through the similarities between Rincewind’s and Arthur Dent’s personalities and perspectives on life.
I find myself savoring the style of Pratchett’s writing, and have a feeling that regardless of the content I would still enjoy it greatly.
It’s just the right amount of humor, satire, sarcasm, and just general witty conversations that make me laugh out loud.
Loving the journey so far.
Although I’ve got to admit that I have never read Anne McCaffrey’s work. Somehow, I have over 30 of her hardcovers sitting on my shelves, because, you know…Dragons, but I have never made my way to actually reading them. Maybe I should…after this Pratchett’s binge is over. (Oh and also the Wheel of Time read I am following along here on TOR as well).
Soo..probably not anytime soon. Anyways.
The upside-down thing. I completely agree. I had the hardest time visualizing how this would look like with the boots and the hooks and everyone hanging upside down, walking and such…and I couldn’t do it. I re-read passages a few times, and then just gave up. So, I hear you…that part was too over the top.
Do you know what else was over the top? Twoflower imagining his own dragon and it becoming true. lol. But it was such a fantastic over the top and I enjoyed that concept greatly. I even tried to hang upside down and imagine my own dragon. Needless to say, my shoulders hurt and…yep..no dragon. Disappointing, especially since I wholeheartedly believe in magic. My girl now also thinks I am an idiot, which is actually a great thing because now I can get away with pretty much anything, so…a silver lining.
Roman
@11 I don’t know if it’s just me, but literally, if someone says Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams are two pen names for the same person, I would not blink an eye.
It just reads…the same. Is it a British sarcasm thing or what?
This entire book is a homage to Douglas Adams….
@13 I think it’s British humor in general going back to at least P. G. Wodehouse.
For another off the wall British comic fantasy writer, you might try Tom Holt.
Another enthusiastic vote for Tom Holt here! Who’s Afraid Of Beowulf is my favorite.
Does anyone know if the band Imagine Dragons nicked their name from this book, or is that just my own headcanon?
Is there a schedule for this book club? Which books or parts of books will be read when? I’m interested in taking part.
@17 We’re going through Terry Pratchett Discworld series from beginning to the end.
Potentially with a bunch of his non-Discworld novels thrown into the mix here and there. (Hint..Hint: Carpet People…do Carpet People)
@14 Thank you, Dave! I’ve never heard of either. Will definitely add to To Read list!
@13 I feel that that was more true in the early days. I enjoyed TCoM and TLF I think more than many because I came from Adams. Once you get past that point, somewhere in Equal Rites (and definitely by Mort) he starts to use his own voice and the series really comes into its own.
@13 I agree with @20 that the Adams similarity fades pretty quickly into the series. To me, the difference is that in Pratchett the jokes exist to serve the story, whereas in Adams the story exists to serve the jokes. Both brilliant authors but only Pratchett manages to deeply examine the human condition through very silly stories.
If you’re looking for more British humour I’d highly recommend Jasper Fforde, who sits somewhere between the two.
@10/
We know that the death of rats shows up on occasion and it will expanded a bit when we get to Mort but as per your headcannon I can’t imagine Death of the discworld would find anyone too unimportant to attend to personally.
Love Pratchett so deeply. He speaks to my very soul. It took me a long time to even get around to his books because the coversreminded me of the Xanth books. My sister was into those but I loathed them. My first taste of Pratchett was Good Omens and after that, well… The Douglas Adams books didn’t hold my attention. But as there is such an overlap of fans, I guess I should give them another try. I read them so long ago.
I adore Jasper Fforde’s work. Am staking out my mailbox as I have his latest on order from the UK. Frothing at the mouth for it. As Fforde ffans go, I am outlier as I like his standalones best. Loved loved loved Early Riser! Clever, funny, touching and he is a great world builder.
Hark! Is that the mail truck? I must go check!
@18
When is the next read starting? I assume it will be The Light Fantastic?
If available, I’d like to see a schedule of when each book will be read.
I first read The Colour of Magic as a graphic novel (well, I actually read the graphic novel version of The Light Fantastic first, but anyway), so I didn’t have to imagine the Wyrmberg, and the first picture of it is the one I have in my head. There’s some scans from it here. Looking back though, the artwork was…not great.
My first introduction to either Douglas Adams or Terry Pratchett was watching one of them interview the other at a book festival. I remember that I was a fan of one of them, and had never heard of the other, but it was so long ago that I can’t remember which I had discovered first. They certainly seemed to get on very well, and I have no trouble imagining that they were friends.
Glad to see so many Fforde ffans here. I’ve re-reading the Thursday Next books at the moment.
If you’re looking for more British humour I’d highly recommend Jasper Fforde, who sits somewhere between the two.
My copy of TCOM had the review quote on the cover “Less cynical than Douglas Adams, funnier than Tom Sharpe… simply a pure joy”. And I already knew I liked Douglas Adams, and I rapidly realised I liked Terry Pratchett, so that quote made me pick up a Tom Sharpe book, because he was mentioned in the same sentence as two of my favourite comic authors.
I should have read the quote more carefully.
Pratchett is not “funnier than Tom Sharpe” in the sense that Serena Williams is better at tennis than Venus Williams. Pratchett is funnier than Tom Sharpe in the sense that Serena Williams is better at tennis than Stephen Hawking.
Fforde is good though (not amazing, but good), coming from the same vein of absurdism that produced Spike Milligan and Monty Python and Tom Holt.
I love that Dr Rjinswand is a specialist in Breakaway Oxidation Phenomena of nuclear reactors. Or in other words – ones that are on fire and out of control. Very much Rincewind’s niche.
Also Pratchett’s niche – when he was writing that, he was still the press officer for four nuclear power stations. “Magnox”, incidentally, is a British design of gas cooled reactor.
@26
He once commented that his job then consisted of saying: ‘Radiation? What radiation? Oh, that radiation.’
And the nuclear theme is strong in the first few books – the idea of octiron as solidified magic, powerful and dangerous at once, is one I haven’t come across in other fantasy novels. (A bit like warpstone in the Warhammer universe – though he came up with the idea before GW did.) The descriptions of areas rendered uninhabitable or just weird by magical war. And the detailed description of the dryads doing magic by spinning against the Disc’s background magical field, which is basically exactly how an electrical generator works. (He even has Elemental Magical Force – e.m.f.!)
“And the nuclear theme is strong in the first few books”
The theme is more subdued later, but little nuggets still break through; in Reaper Man there’s a conversation addressing the inadvisability of carry a thaumometer (background magic measuring device) around in your pocket, that sounds like it’s been cribbed from a real world conversation about Geiger counters.
Speaking as the owner of nitpicking.com: this is not Pterry’s first novel. Or second. Or third. Or fourth.
Not sure if this was an intentional parody of the infodump trope by Pratchett, but I noticed an apparent “As you know, Bob,” moment in the scene where the Loremaster starts to explain (“As you know,” he said uncertainly, …) why Greicha the First”s children have to fight among themselves in mortal combat, only to be impatiently cut off by the as yet not quite properly expired Greicha:
“Yes, yes, we know all that. Get on with it,” said a thin peevish voice from the air beside [the Loremaster].