The Turtle Moves! (20 page)

So far, this is the final
Science of Discworld
volume, and I rather suspect it will stay that way. It holds up well, but one rather gets the impression that the authors have pretty much said what they had to say on their various subjects. Dragging the faculty of Unseen University into yet another adventure on Roundworld would really seem to be stretching the premise too far.

Fortunately, there's still plenty to be said about Discworld, so it's back to Ankh-Morpork for another look at the adventures of His Grace Sir Samuel Vimes, Duke of Ankh-Morpork and Commander of the Watch. . . .

T
HE ENMITY OF DWARFS and trolls has been an established feature of the Discworld for many a volume at this point, and there have been several mentions of the infamous Battle of

Koom Valley. At long last, Mr. Pratchett sees fit to tell us more about that fabled conflict, while setting Commander Vimes another mystery to solve, and another disaster to stave off.

The title comes from the board-game Thud, which was introduced in
Going Postal
; in it one player plays dwarfs and the other trolls, in a battle between the two species.
¹⁴⁹

There are other echoes of
Going Postal
, as well—the expression “go postal” comes up more than once, in contexts where “go spare”
¹⁵⁰
would have been more likely a few volumes back, and the Post Office's fondness for collectible stamps manifests itself in two different Koom Valley commemoratives that serve to fan the flames of dwarf/troll hostility.

And there's the painting,
The Goddess Anoia Arising from the Cutlery
—Anoia was first mentioned in
Going Postal
, and will turn up in person in
Wintersmith
.

These little consistencies are part of what gives the Discworld its charm. Little details of all sorts add to the flavor, as when we learn that Carrot Ironfoundersson's actual first name is Kzad-bhat, meaning Head Banger. “Carrot” is presumably merely a rough approximation of the correct pronunciation, as well as describing his appearance.

And then there are the little inter-universal references, such as the dwarfish symbol for the Long Dark, i.e., a mine tunnel. It's a circle with a horizontal line across it—which happens to be the logo of the London Underground.

At any rate, things are tense in Ankh-Morpork as the anniversary of the Battle of Koom Valley nears. A group of very conservative, very respected dwarfs have settled in the city—or under it, really—and are stirring up trouble.

Then one of the most provocative of the lot is murdered, and the dwarfs say a troll is responsible, and Sam Vimes investigates. He wants to prevent open warfare, and he wants to find the killer; he
hopes
these goals aren't incompatible.

Matters, of course, get complicated. It turns out there was more than the one murder, there are strange things going on in the troll community , the Watch has taken on a vampire as a recruit, Nobby has acquired a girlfriend. . . .

And Sam Vimes has a son, Young Sam, and every day at six he
must
read Young Sam the boy's favorite book,
Where's My Cow?
¹⁵¹
He's made this an absolutely inviolable rule, in order to make sure that he never allows himself to neglect his child; it's
important
. Allowing anything to interfere with this daily ritual will be conceding defeat, admitting that the world can force him to give up parts of himself he does not intend to give up.

Non-parents may not empathize easily with the importance of the ritual.

Carrot, interestingly,
does
appreciate its importance, and cooperates with Vimes to ensure that the ritual happens on schedule, even though Carrot has previously said that “Personal isn't the same as important.”

Some things, it would seem, are both.

All in all, it's a Vimes novel on the usual pattern—a crime has been committed that Vimes is determined to solve, no matter what or who might get in his way, and in the course of solving it he finds himself dealing with matters far larger than mere murder. Along the way, we see the various members of the Watch being themselves—Carrot, Angua,
Fred Colon, Nobby, Detritus, Cheery Littlebottom, Corporal Visit, and the rest. There are meetings with Lord Vetinari, interludes with Lady Sybil and her dragons, and more. It's a very satisfactory package indeed. The addition of Young Sam and the revelation of the secret of Koom Valley are new, of course, but they fit in nicely. Willikins, the family butler Vimes acquired when he married Lady Sybil, returns and develops some wonderful new depths.

There are certain new elements here of which I confess I'm not immediately enamored; the dwarfish culture seems to be getting even darker and more unpleasant than it was in
The Fifth Elephant
, for one. The Devices, pre-human artifacts the dwarfs collect, strike me as potentially a bad idea, and not entirely in keeping with Discworld's history as we know it.

A couple of lines hark back amusingly to much earlier books. For example, at one point Vimes remarks, “It's been a long time since this city was last burned to the ground.”

Not
that
long, really, since it happened at the beginning of
The Colour of Magic
.

And Igor, the bartender at Biers, first and last seen in
Feet of Clay
, appears, with a footnote clarifying that he's not one of
those
Igors.

There are some nice subplots that have very little to do with the central story, but which are thoroughly entertaining all the same, such as Nobby's romance with Tawneee, and the “girls' night out” that Angua, Sally, Cheery, and Tawneee share. It's amusing to see that the Disc has cocktails just as ridiculously named as ours, including its own version of a Screaming Orgasm.
¹⁵²
And it's good to see that Mr. Pratchett can still find stories to tell about Sam Vimes that don't involve dragging him off to Uberwald or Borogravia, or flinging him into the past, or having him be anything other than the copper he is.

I hope we'll see more of Mr. Vimes in the future, but so far,
Thud!
is his last starring role. The next book is another “young adult” title featuring Tiffany Aching, and then after that it's Moist von Lipwig again.

T
IFFANY ACHING IS BACK. She's been learning witchcraft under various mentors, and as her thirteenth birthday approaches, she's living with Miss Eumenides
¹⁵³
Treason, a very old witch, who takes her to observe the Dark Morris, the silent one described near the very end of
Reaper Man
, the one that balances out the ordinary Morris that ushers in the springtime.

The Dark Morris ushers in the winter.

Tiffany, in a moment of teenage rebellion, gets caught up in it and joins the dance, bringing her to the attention of the spirit of winter itself, the elemental known to the witches as the Wintersmith.

The Wintersmith never really noticed human beings as individuals before, but you can't ignore someone who's dancing with you, and he takes a very definite interest in Tiffany. After all, she usurped the role of his usual partner in the dance.

As Granny Weatherwax points out, Tiffany has put herself into a story, a very old, very powerful story, and the only way out is to see it through to the end, and to make sure the story comes out right.

Tiffany does her best—and since this is a Discworld story, she succeeds, with the help of the other witches, the Nac Mac Feegle, and a designated Hero.

Along the way, she learns more about people, witchcraft, and the world in general. The other young witches introduced in
A Hat Full of Sky
—Annagramma, Petulia Gristle, Dimity Hubbub, Lucy Warbeck,
and the rest—appear, and advance in their respective careers. (We learn in passing that Petulia's Pig Trick was considered the winning magic at the Witch Trials in
A Hat Full of Sky
. I suspect we'll see more of Petulia. I hope we do, anyway; I like her.)

We see quite a bit of Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg.

Throughout the Discworld series, we've had snatches of dog-Latin popping up, and a few bits of Welsh; in
Wintersmith
we also get Greek—not transliterated, but in the original alphabet—and a single phrase in Russian.
¹⁵⁴
The series continues to evolve, and the Disc bears more and more resemblance to Roundworld.

And speaking of Roundworld, there's an explicit reference to narrativium, the element first named in
The Science of Discworld
. It's described as one of the components of people. Stories are what make us people, as set forth in
The Science of Discworld II: The Globe
.

Another cross-series reference is a scene of Rob Anybody reading
Where's My Cow?
, the book Sam Vimes reads to his son in
Thud!

Anoia, a minor goddess first mentioned in
Going Postal
, gets a scene with Tiffany.

And there's a pun that I rather grudgingly admire. We learn that the name of Nanny Ogg's home, in the village of Slice, in the kingdom of Lancre, is Tir Nani Ogg. “Nanny Ogg,” of course, is a familiar name to Discworld readers. “Tír na nÓg,” on the other hand, is a familiar name to anyone who knows anything about Irish myth—it means “Land of Youth,” and is the magical, other-worldly isle somewhere far to the west where the
sidhe
live, where there's no disease or aging.

I'd never made the connection between “Tír na nÓg” and “Nanny Ogg” before. I rather suspect that Mr. Pratchett originally hadn't, either, since if he had I'd have expected to see “Tir Nani Ogg” before this, but it's an amusing one, all the same, whether coincidental or planned.

While on the subject of Mrs. Ogg: We also meet one or two of Nanny's daughters-in-law, and (rather frustratingly, if you ask me) still don't learn any of their names.

This is primarily Tiffany's story, though. She's coming into her own—no longer just a girl, but a young woman; no longer a potential witch, but a practicing one.

I look forward to reading more about her—and about the rest of Discworld.

One more book to consider—the return of Moist von Lipwig.

I
N
GOING POSTAL
, we got to know former(?) con artist Moist von Lipwig, and watched him resuscitate the Ankh-Morpork postal service. In
Making Money
, Lord Vetinari offers him the opportunity to do the same for the Royal Bank of Ankh-Morpork, and the Royal Mint. Lipwig is not at all enthusiastic about the idea, but Fate and the Patrician conspire to see that he does eventually tackle the job—and Lipwig is forced to admit that, once prodded into it, he relishes the challenge.

And a challenge it is; Ankh-Morpork is in the midst of a banking crisis, and the Mint is horrendously outdated. Furthermore, while nobody else had any interest in running the Post Office, there are people very interested indeed in controlling the Royal Bank, and eager to wrest it away from Lipwig.

Like
Going Postal
,
Making Money
has complexly named chapters with illustrations at the start of each, though the illustrations aren't as consistent as the stamps in
Going Postal
. The chapter between Chapter 7 and Chapter 9 is simply Chapter 8 this time. While it's clearly following the model of the previous book, it doesn't seem as if the details are quite as well handled.

Likewise, the story itself seems a little less perfect than the magnificence of
Going Postal
. Some of the subplots, such as the hydraulic model of Ankh-Morpork's economy, while amusing, don't seem completely necessary, and Cosmo Lavish is a less effective villain than Reacher Gilt—it's fairly clear all along that Lavish carries the seeds of his own destruction, which was much less a foregone conclusion with Gilt.

Still, it's a lot of fun watching Lipwig invent paper money, try to take Ankh-Morpork off the gold standard, and give the banking business a healthy dose of showmanship. We learn a little more about Igors, meet a figure from Lipwig's past, and resolve some lingering old issues. We even learn C.M.O.T. Dibbler's full name. All in all, a worthy addition to the series, and one that leaves me eager for the next—whatsoever that may be.

T
HE DISCWORLD SERIES is not finished; it isn't anywhere
near
finished. As Terry Pratchett said at a book-signing I attended, a few years down the road he might retire, but if he does, he's not sure what he'd do. Maybe write a book.

Or two. does, he's not sure what he'd do. Maybe write a book.

But I want to get
this
book finished, so I can't wait around to see what becomes of it all. I will, however, mention what I know of what lies ahead.

I Shall Wear Midnight
, the fourth and probably last Tiffany Aching story, is in the works. Throughout the first three books, she's insisted on wearing blue or green, the colors of the Chalk, rather than proper witchy black; it would seem this is finally going to change.

Making Money
ends with Lord Vetinari suggesting that Moist von Lipwig might consider revamping Ankh-Morpork's system of tax collection; presumably Lipwig will eventually accept the job. A working title of
Raising Taxes
has been mentioned. It seems Lipwig has taken over the “Beyond the Century of the Fruitbat” series, or perhaps he's becoming another series, like Sam Vimes or Granny Weatherwax. Launching another sub-series some thirty volumes in is . . . interesting.