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A review by dark_reader
The Colour Of Magic by Terry Pratchett
5.0
When I was 10 years old, my mother gave me this book. This was 1985. It was the Corgi paperback edition with the delightfully grotesque and madcap cover art by Josh Kirby who went on to create 25 more Discworld book covers. I still have this very same copy:
[bc:The Colour of Magic|601238|The Colour of Magic (Discworld, #1)|Terry Pratchett|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1365691644l/601238._SY75_.jpg|194190]
The title box text reads "Jerome K. Jerome meets LORD OF THE RINGS (with a touch of Peter Pan)" (emphasis original). I never knew who Jerome K. Jerome was until this year (thanks, google); I think you had to be British. He died in 1927. The other literary references are obvious, and I think represent a slightly flailing attempt by the publisher to describe this book as fantasy + whimsy. That is a fair but shallow categorization. This is probably what made my mother think I would like it. I don't recall reading any other fantasy titles at that age. My in-bedroom library at the time was probably mostly Enid Blyton young persons' adventure stories. I loved science fiction and horror films, but I guess fantasy was in my wheelhouse also. I recall seing the movie Legend around the same time at least, and Conan films were in my past.
I tried to read it at age 10. We briefly lived in the Netherlands at that time, which is part of the history, because I don't think the book would have had the same exposure in our native Canada at the time. I specifically recall reading it while curled up in the footwell in the back seat of the family car, safety consciousness not being what it is today, and I can't imagine there was much room with two sisters also aboard. It was intriguing, but I didn't quite get it. "In-sewer-ants" escaped me. I sure didn't have the fantasy literacy to understand the tropes that informed it. I am pretty sure that I didn't finish the book.
I tried it again later, when I was perhaps 13, and it went much better. I was still missing many of the references; I was unfamiliar with Lankhmar and Fritz Lieber's characters, with Lovecraft, and other elements of fantasy that went into this not-quite-parody. But, I got enough out of it at that time to launch a lifelong devotion to Terry Pratchett and the Discworld. Throughout my teens I would snatch up each new paperback as it appeared (at at that time in Canada, paperbacks were the only versions printed) and tear through them. I adored the Guards series, the Witches were okay, almost anything set in Ankh-Morpork was golden (although I detested Moving Pictures for reasons that I will only be able to ascertain when I reread it), and Rincewind's further adventures were, well, often confusing to me. But I knew that I had hit upon something special. I was largely alone in my fandom. I did not share this interest with my usual friends, except late in high school I discovered one fellow also liked them, but I was aghast when he would talk about "Offler the Crocodile Dog" It's Crocodile God, not dog! Clearly he did not love them as I did. One high-school girlfriend of mine became interested in the books along with me, which was nice. At one point after we had broken up, she asked to borrow some of my Discworld paperbacks which I was fine with, although I never got those ones back.
Discworld and I drifted apart slightly while I was in University, solely because I was not regularly exposed to new releases. It was mostly a pre-internet world and I was not aware of means to keep up with coming releases at that age. I caught up eventually on any books that I missed but at some point stopped buying them, instead reading them from the library. Regardless, I grew up alongside the Discworld. I was amazed at the continued output after Sir Terry announced his rare form of early-onset Alzheimer's diagnosis, since I was sure that would be the end of it. He amazed us all with the continued quantity and quality of books in his final years, and I continue to be saddened by his passing in 2015.
I re-read The Colour of Magic at least one other time in my 20's, I think, and my recollection of that read was that I thought it suffered in quality compared to his later books. But, on my latest reading (October 2019) I did not at all find this to be the case. For the record, on the go-around, I was fortunate to aquire a copy of the 1983 book club edition with this amazing cover image, visualizing the Disc sitting atop the shoulders of Berilia, Tubul, Great T'Phon and Jerakeen, all upon the mighty back of Great A'Tuin as she(?) swims through the cosmos:
[bc:The Colour of Magic|596896|The Colour of Magic (Discworld, #1)|Terry Pratchett|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1239669621l/596896._SX50_.jpg|194190]
Discworld has certainly evolved since the first book, but there was no lack of magic, wit, and love in his writing from the start. There are differences, surely. For one thing, The Colour of Magic had chapters. Chapters! Can you believe it? Fortunately Pratchett abandoned these by the next book. For another thing, it has a certain sandbox quality to it that is unique in the series, as Rincewind and Twoflower journeyed through diverse locations spanning the Disc in adventures that string together but are also each encapsulated. The biggest difference is that the first book was still establishing its character. It included homages to many specific fantasy icons, including Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser and the city of Lankhmar (I did not recognize this nomenclature origin for Ankh-Morpork until it was pointed out to my in some article very recently), Conan the Barbarian, Lovecraft and more. What really struck me on this reading is how Pratchett used these sources and fantasy tropes so lovingly. If you can categorize his work as satire or parody, it is one with any trace of meanness or snark removed. If he makes fun of the indomitable barbarian trope, it is done with love. He doesn't make fun of, he makes fun with. And in this Pratchett stood apart from other attempts at fantasy-based humor, such as the Harvard Lampoon's Bored of the Rings which was simply mocking, Piers Anthony's Xanth series' incessant punnery, or Robert Aspirin's Myth Adventures.
The one part of the book that continues to sit unwell with me is the sequence that finds Rincewind and Twoflower. This was part of some trans-dimensional, mind-bendy jaunt that I think is drawn from Moorcock and other 'New Wave' sci-fi and fantasy of the 1970's. I am insufficiently versed in that material to say with any certainty. This is the one part of the book that I continue to not really 'get', and I am open to an explanation or hypothesis.
Of course, the Discworld quickly took on a life of its own, and later books did not need to reference any external source material, even obliquely. Later stories became more centered in time and place, and grew to be increasingly grounded explorations of society and human nature. It's fine to skip The Colour of Magic and jump into the Discworld elsewhere, but once you do, if you find yourself in love, do yourself a favor and come back to see where it all began. If you don't, you'll miss out on a terrific sex joke in the prologue, which definitely escaped me at age 10.
Thanks, Mom.
[bc:The Colour of Magic|601238|The Colour of Magic (Discworld, #1)|Terry Pratchett|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1365691644l/601238._SY75_.jpg|194190]
The title box text reads "Jerome K. Jerome meets LORD OF THE RINGS (with a touch of Peter Pan)" (emphasis original). I never knew who Jerome K. Jerome was until this year (thanks, google); I think you had to be British. He died in 1927. The other literary references are obvious, and I think represent a slightly flailing attempt by the publisher to describe this book as fantasy + whimsy. That is a fair but shallow categorization. This is probably what made my mother think I would like it. I don't recall reading any other fantasy titles at that age. My in-bedroom library at the time was probably mostly Enid Blyton young persons' adventure stories. I loved science fiction and horror films, but I guess fantasy was in my wheelhouse also. I recall seing the movie Legend around the same time at least, and Conan films were in my past.
I tried to read it at age 10. We briefly lived in the Netherlands at that time, which is part of the history, because I don't think the book would have had the same exposure in our native Canada at the time. I specifically recall reading it while curled up in the footwell in the back seat of the family car, safety consciousness not being what it is today, and I can't imagine there was much room with two sisters also aboard. It was intriguing, but I didn't quite get it. "In-sewer-ants" escaped me. I sure didn't have the fantasy literacy to understand the tropes that informed it. I am pretty sure that I didn't finish the book.
I tried it again later, when I was perhaps 13, and it went much better. I was still missing many of the references; I was unfamiliar with Lankhmar and Fritz Lieber's characters, with Lovecraft, and other elements of fantasy that went into this not-quite-parody. But, I got enough out of it at that time to launch a lifelong devotion to Terry Pratchett and the Discworld. Throughout my teens I would snatch up each new paperback as it appeared (at at that time in Canada, paperbacks were the only versions printed) and tear through them. I adored the Guards series, the Witches were okay, almost anything set in Ankh-Morpork was golden (although I detested Moving Pictures for reasons that I will only be able to ascertain when I reread it), and Rincewind's further adventures were, well, often confusing to me. But I knew that I had hit upon something special. I was largely alone in my fandom. I did not share this interest with my usual friends, except late in high school I discovered one fellow also liked them, but I was aghast when he would talk about "Offler the Crocodile Dog" It's Crocodile God, not dog! Clearly he did not love them as I did. One high-school girlfriend of mine became interested in the books along with me, which was nice. At one point after we had broken up, she asked to borrow some of my Discworld paperbacks which I was fine with, although I never got those ones back.
Discworld and I drifted apart slightly while I was in University, solely because I was not regularly exposed to new releases. It was mostly a pre-internet world and I was not aware of means to keep up with coming releases at that age. I caught up eventually on any books that I missed but at some point stopped buying them, instead reading them from the library. Regardless, I grew up alongside the Discworld. I was amazed at the continued output after Sir Terry announced his rare form of early-onset Alzheimer's diagnosis, since I was sure that would be the end of it. He amazed us all with the continued quantity and quality of books in his final years, and I continue to be saddened by his passing in 2015.
I re-read The Colour of Magic at least one other time in my 20's, I think, and my recollection of that read was that I thought it suffered in quality compared to his later books. But, on my latest reading (October 2019) I did not at all find this to be the case. For the record, on the go-around, I was fortunate to aquire a copy of the 1983 book club edition with this amazing cover image, visualizing the Disc sitting atop the shoulders of Berilia, Tubul, Great T'Phon and Jerakeen, all upon the mighty back of Great A'Tuin as she(?) swims through the cosmos:
[bc:The Colour of Magic|596896|The Colour of Magic (Discworld, #1)|Terry Pratchett|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1239669621l/596896._SX50_.jpg|194190]
Discworld has certainly evolved since the first book, but there was no lack of magic, wit, and love in his writing from the start. There are differences, surely. For one thing, The Colour of Magic had chapters. Chapters! Can you believe it? Fortunately Pratchett abandoned these by the next book. For another thing, it has a certain sandbox quality to it that is unique in the series, as Rincewind and Twoflower journeyed through diverse locations spanning the Disc in adventures that string together but are also each encapsulated. The biggest difference is that the first book was still establishing its character. It included homages to many specific fantasy icons, including Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser and the city of Lankhmar (I did not recognize this nomenclature origin for Ankh-Morpork until it was pointed out to my in some article very recently), Conan the Barbarian, Lovecraft and more. What really struck me on this reading is how Pratchett used these sources and fantasy tropes so lovingly. If you can categorize his work as satire or parody, it is one with any trace of meanness or snark removed. If he makes fun of the indomitable barbarian trope, it is done with love. He doesn't make fun of, he makes fun with. And in this Pratchett stood apart from other attempts at fantasy-based humor, such as the Harvard Lampoon's Bored of the Rings which was simply mocking, Piers Anthony's Xanth series' incessant punnery, or Robert Aspirin's Myth Adventures.
The one part of the book that continues to sit unwell with me is the sequence that finds Rincewind and Twoflower
Spoiler
transported into the 'real' world aboard a commercial airplane in the midsts of a hijacking attemptOf course, the Discworld quickly took on a life of its own, and later books did not need to reference any external source material, even obliquely. Later stories became more centered in time and place, and grew to be increasingly grounded explorations of society and human nature. It's fine to skip The Colour of Magic and jump into the Discworld elsewhere, but once you do, if you find yourself in love, do yourself a favor and come back to see where it all began. If you don't, you'll miss out on a terrific sex joke in the prologue, which definitely escaped me at age 10.
Thanks, Mom.