I just had a great time reading the first book of Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, The Colour of Magic. The Discworld series is an astounding 36 books long and still running. The most recent novel in the series is available for pre-order in the US and the UK, and will be released in October 2009. On amazon.com this pre-order ranks #84 in comic literature and fiction, and around #17,000 in books, overall. Not bad sales for a book buyers can't even read until October! According to Wikipedia, as of 2006 Pratchett was the #2 bestselling author in the UK and the #7 non-US bestselling author in America.
Discworld began its impressive and popular career in 1983 with The Colour of Magic. The story is charming, its cosmology enchanting. As in many successful firsts of fantasy series, The Colour of Magic introduces the reader to its magical world through the arrival of a newcomer- although Pratchett turns this convention on its head, because the protagonist is not the newcomer, but his seasoned guide.
A lot of the pleasure of reading The Colour of Magic comes from its not-so-subtle parallels to our real world experience. The characters in the book grub for money, lie, cheat, steal, go on vacation, take photographs, and worry about their luggage- but it's all incredibly fun and clever while they do it.
The Colour of Magic is a bird's-eye-view narrative, the camera zooming in and then zooming very far out. We see the story from many angles, aware not just of the main characters' struggles, but of the interplay of the gods, of the cosmology of the universe (four elephants atop a giant turtle), and even of the multiverse. As a result of this constant panning in and out, the reader gains the emotional distance from the story needed to make it funny. The trade-off is that the reader (at least this reader) cares very little whether protagonist Rincewind lives or dies- and the story's entire dramatic structure is built on the question- will Rincewind live or die? Fortunately I was having so much fun sight-seeing in Discworld, that I didn't need any genuine concern for the characters or deep involvement with the plot in order to enjoy the book.
Discworld began its impressive and popular career in 1983 with The Colour of Magic. The story is charming, its cosmology enchanting. As in many successful firsts of fantasy series, The Colour of Magic introduces the reader to its magical world through the arrival of a newcomer- although Pratchett turns this convention on its head, because the protagonist is not the newcomer, but his seasoned guide.
A lot of the pleasure of reading The Colour of Magic comes from its not-so-subtle parallels to our real world experience. The characters in the book grub for money, lie, cheat, steal, go on vacation, take photographs, and worry about their luggage- but it's all incredibly fun and clever while they do it.
The Colour of Magic is a bird's-eye-view narrative, the camera zooming in and then zooming very far out. We see the story from many angles, aware not just of the main characters' struggles, but of the interplay of the gods, of the cosmology of the universe (four elephants atop a giant turtle), and even of the multiverse. As a result of this constant panning in and out, the reader gains the emotional distance from the story needed to make it funny. The trade-off is that the reader (at least this reader) cares very little whether protagonist Rincewind lives or dies- and the story's entire dramatic structure is built on the question- will Rincewind live or die? Fortunately I was having so much fun sight-seeing in Discworld, that I didn't need any genuine concern for the characters or deep involvement with the plot in order to enjoy the book.
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