Sir Terry Pratchett died today. He was 66.
I started to read Terry’s books back in 2002 with “The Color of Magic,” which is a fantastic book about about a traveler, his luggage (called Luggage and it has an attitude), a wizard, and it also includes the Librarian of the Unseen University – a wizard who is later turned into an orangutang, and various other characters of the Discworld which is a flat world resting on the backs of four elephants which are standing on the back of a giant turtle whose name is Great A’Tuin. In 40+ books about the Discworld we learned that this crazy, wonderful world was inhabited by the wizards of the Unseen University, the police of Ankh-Morpork, Lord Vetinari – the Medici like ruler, various thieves, zombies, trolls, dwarfs, witches, vampires, werewolves, various Gods and Goddesses, golems, assassins, DEATH (who talks in CAPS, had a horse named Binky, a raven named Quoth, and a granddaughter), Cohen the Barbarian, and the most wonderful things ever – the Nac Mac Feegles- the Wee Free Men – blue fairy folk, think smurfs with kilts, Scottish accents, and who like to fight. Got it?
The New York Times described it this way:
“Mr. Pratchett introduced it in 1983 in the novel “The Colour of Magic.” Its protagonist, Rincewind, one of a number of recurring characters in the series, is a feckless wizard-wannabe who was an unsuccessful student at Unseen University, the principal school for wizards in the city-state of Ankh-Morpork.
Over three decades and 40 or so volumes (a handful of which were aimed at young readers), Discworld grew into a multilayered society inhabited by witches, trolls and other creatures of varying personalities and powers who often seem to re-enact the follies of Englishmen and other Earth people. Death was a character in almost all of the Discworld books, speaking in all capital letters and expressing a fascination with humans.
Mr. Pratchett often wrote with eyebrow arched and tongue planted firmly in cheek; in the behavior of his mythical creatures it was hard to miss the barbs being tossed in the direction of
humanity.
“Of course, Lord Vetinari, Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, would occasionally meet Lady Margolotta, Governess of Uberwald,” he wrote in the most recent Discworld book, “Raising Steam” (2013). “Why shouldn’t he? After all he also occasionally had meetings with Diamond King of Trolls up near Koom Valley, and indeed with the Low King of the Dwarfs, Rhys Rhysson, in his caverns under Uberwald. This, as everybody knew, was politics. Yes, politics, the secret glue that stopped the world falling into warfare.
“In the past,” he continued, “there had been so much war, far too much, but as every schoolboy knew, or at least knew in those days when schoolboys actually read anything more demanding than a crisp packet, not so long ago a truly terrible war, the last war of Koom Valley, had almost happened, out of which the dwarfs and trolls had managed to achieve not exactly peace, but an understanding from which, hopefully, peace might evolve. There had been the shaking of hands, important hands, shaken fervently, and so there was hope, hope as fragile as a thought” (The New York Times, March 12, 2015 http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/13/books/terry-pratchett-popular-fantasy-novelist-dies-at-66.html?_r=0)
I was very fortunate to have met Terry years ago at a book signing, where I waited in line for hours. I am not kidding. It was hours. He kindly signed my book and even drew a turtle (I am sure its the Great A’Tuin) in my “The Color of Magic” book.
I knew he had not been well, he had a terrible form of Alzheimer, but this morning on Twitter I read this:
(Courtesy of the Terry Pratchett @terryandrob Twitter account)
His website posted this today: “Terry passed away in his home, with his cat sleeping on his bed surrounded by his family” (http://www.pjsmprints.com/). Truly the best way to go.
