Source of book: Audiobook from the library
Over the years, we have listened to a lot of Terry Pratchett books while on our adventures. You can find the list at the bottom of this post.
Making Money is another in the “industrial revolution” series of Discworld novels. This is the first one I have read with Moist von Lipwig as a central character. I think he is one of Pratchett’s finest characters: the crook gone (inadvertently) straight, retaining the knowledge of one below the law in a way that allows him to see the above the law thievery well. In other words, the kind of people we need more than ever in the Trump Era.
This is apparently the second book involving Mr. Lipwig, the first being Going Postal, which we have not yet listened to. Later industrial revolution books such as Raising Steam refer to Lipwig, without featuring him.
Making Money also features some of the important characters from other books, such as The Truth, and the Watch books, as supporting characters.
So, about Mr. Lipwig. Formerly known as Albert Spangler (also likely an alias), he was born in the vaguely Eastern European Discworld nation of Uberwald (literally a play on words with the same meaning as Transylvania), orphaned, and left to a life of petty crime. He became a successful con man, playing off of other people’s greed and stupidity.
When he was eventually caught by the law, the tyrant Patrician Lord Vetinari noted his many talents (and his equally notable lack of violence in his life of crime), and arrange for his hanging to “accidentally” spare his life - provided he was willing to assume a new one to go with a new identity.
Thus was Moist von Lipwig born, and assigned to the Post Office. Voluntarily, of course - he could also have voluntarily elected suicide had he preferred. That story is the subject of Going Postal.
By the opening of Making Money, Lipwig has, by applying his insider knowledge of the underworld, reformed the postal service. In fact, he has been so successful that his genius idea - the postal stamp - is now functioning as currency in Ankh Morpork, a serious challenge to the official banking system.
Which is owned by old money - the kind of old money where everyone has forgotten the slavery and piracy underlying it. The old money is wedded to the gold standard, and the idea that banking is for rich people.
The problem is, now that the postal service is doing well, Lipwig is bored out of his skull. His main outlet, his girlfriend Adora Belle, is off in foreign parts, working for the Golem Trust.
Vetinari, realizing this, orchestrates things so that Lipwig is forced into a new role in charge (more or less) of the national bank and the national mint.
If you hadn’t figured out already where this is going, well, let me tell you that Pratchett ends up giving the best concise, accurate, perceptive, and also hilarious crash course on how banking and currency actually work in the real world.
Pratchett clearly understands what so few do now and in history: ALL money ever is “fiat currency.” Money is worth something because humans agree it is worth something. Whether the shells and beads of the vast Native American trade networks spanning an entire hemisphere, or the use of gold and silver in the ancient world, all means of exchange have had value because humans agreed they did.
Because you can’t eat gold.
Lipwig realizes this even before he realizes that the old Lavish family who controls the bank has stolen the gold reserves to enrich themselves. (The book was written just before the financial collapse of 2008 - Pratchett had already seen the writing on the wall…)
There is a lot in this book that I don’t want to spoil, but I do want to point out some of the themes, and some of the best stuff in there.
Banking is the most obvious theme, and Pratchett examines both its aspirational best, and its kleptocratic worst. At best, banks allow everyone to put their savings to work, and borrow for their investment needs.
Lipwig is the one with the vision for this democratization of finance, embracing both Harry King (the waste management tycoon shunned by the “best” citizens) and Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler, purveyor of questionable yet incredibly popular sausages - who wants to borrow money to expand his business by an additional wheelbarrow.
I will also mention that Pratchett is spot on in this book in his analysis of the obvious injustice in how small-time impoverished crooks are brutally punished while white collar criminals that harm far more humans are considered “legal.”
There is also the Golem subplot, with the question of the “humanity” (or whatever the discworld equivalent is) of Golems - clay creatures programmed with obedience. Which also leads to a discussion of the problem of both outsourcing and technological replacement of artisans. Very on point for our own times, of course.
Oh, and a free Golem who spends too much time reading questionable romance advice, before discovering feminism? And anyway, since Golems do not technically have a sex at all, why are they assumed to be male? (Yeah, Pratchett on gender is always a lot of fun….)
I also have to mention that this book is a serious play on the game of Monopoly. Expect to find all of the classic pieces somewhere - you just have to pay attention.
Oh, and also, by way of warning, the book uses “fornication” in its lesser-known meaning, having to do with architectural arches, not the, um, human ones. And also, vibrating sex toys are a key plot device - this might not be the most kid-friendly Discworld novel. Or, alternatively, it will go over the heads of the kids and the adults can snigger throughout. No, there isn’t any “sex” per se - Pratchett is all about the humor.
As always with Pratchett, there are far too many pithy quotes to fit in one blog post, but I will mention my favorites.
They were indeed what was known as 'old money', which meant that it had been made so long ago that the black deeds which had originally filled the coffers were now historically irrelevant. Funny, that: a brigand for a father was something you kept quiet about, but a slave-taking pirate for a great-great-great-grandfather was something to boast of over the port. Time turned the evil bastards into rogues, and rogue was a word with a twinkle in its eye and nothing to be ashamed of.
Seriously. Take a look at how the old rich families got rich. It’s depressing.
It was sad, like those businessmen who came to work in serious clothes but wore colorful ties in a mad, desperate attempt to show there was a free spirit in there somewhere.
Hey, now, I feel seen!
People don't like change. But make the change fast enough and you go from one type of normal to another.
This is in some ways hopeful, but also the most damn depressing line in the book. God, I hate Trump and his racist ghouls.
“But what's worth more than gold?"
"Practically everything. You, for example. Gold is heavy. Your weight in gold is not very much gold at all. Aren't you worth more than that?”
Sacharissa looked momentarily flustered, to Moist’s glee. ‘Well, in a manner of speaking—’ ‘
The only manner of speaking worth talking about,’ said Moist flatly. ‘The world is full of things worth more than gold. But we dig the damn stuff up and then bury it in a different hole. Where’s the sense in that? What are we, magpies? Is it all about the gleam? Good heavens, potatoes are worth more than gold!’
‘Surely not!’
‘If you were shipwrecked on a desert island, what would you prefer, a bag of potatoes or a bag of gold?’ ‘Yes, but a desert island isn’t Ankh-Morpork!’ ‘And that proves gold is only valuable because we agree it is, right? It’s just a dream. But a potato is always worth a potato, anywhere. A knob of butter and a pinch of salt and you’ve got a meal, anywhere. Bury gold in the ground and you’ll be worrying about thieves forever. Bury a potato and in due season you could be looking at a dividend of a thousand per cent.”
This is the problem with understanding wealth as consisting of whatever means of exchange you use, rather than the underlying labor that creates wealth.
“Building a temple didn't mean you believed in gods, it just meant you believed in architecture.”
The bank, in the book, is an old temple. Built with the idea that if the temple was built, a god would occupy it. Which, I suppose, is what happened. The worship of money and gold and capitalism took its seat in the building.
“A banker? Me?"
"Yes, Mr. Lipwig."
"But I don't know anything about running a bank!"
"Good. No preconceived ideas."
"I've robbed banks!"
"Capital! Just reverse your thinking," said Lord Vetinari, beaming. "The money should be on the inside.”
And later:
“People who understand banks got it into the position it is in now.”
Vetinari is one of the best characters in the Discworld universe, because he is both a tyrant, and yet, the weirdest one ever. He is kind of like the anti-Machiavelli? He is all about soft power most of the time, and embraces progress and freedom and the free press and all kinds of things that should threaten his power…yet they never really do. He is both freaking scary, and yet also weirdly admirable. If one had to have a dictator, he would be the one I’d choose. Although I prefer democracy.
“The Igor position on prayer is that it is nothing more than hope with a beat to it.”
Explaining the whole Igor thing would take too much time, but you can read the Discworld Wiki if you like. I’m pretty much with the Igors here. Either prayer is just asking God to like people you care about more than other people, or it is, perhaps, hope with a beat. (If you consider prayer to be a petition rather than just a communion with the Divine…)
It contained herbs and all natural ingredients. But belladonna was an herb, and arsenic was natural.
Insert your favorite alternative “natural” remedy here.
“That is a very graphic analogy which aids understanding wonderfully while being, strictly speaking, wrong in every possible way,” said Ponder.
One of my favorite Pratchett lines. True in, well, every possible way.
“I read somewhere that the coin represents a promise to hand over a dollar’s worth of gold,’ said Moist helpfully. Mr. Bent steepled his hands in front of his face and turned his eyes upwards, as though praying. ‘In theory, yes,’ he said after a few moments. ‘I would prefer to say that it is a tacit understanding that we will honour our promise to exchange it for a dollar’s worth of gold provided we are not, in point of fact, asked to.”
Exactly the Gold Standard in action. And also banking in action. The book’s understanding of bank runs is every bit as good as that in It’s A Wonderful Life - another brilliant examination of predatory capitalism.
“I don’t have much time, sir, but fortunately I have a lot of gin.”
Because the alcoholic old lady is practically a British literary necessity.
The lady in the boardroom was certainly an attractive woman, but since she worked for the Times Moist felt unable to award her total ladylike status. Ladies didn’t fiendishly quote exactly what you said but didn’t exactly mean, or hit you around the ear with unexpectedly difficult questions. Well, come to think of it, they did, quite often, but she got paid for it.
Never, ever, underestimate Sacharissa Crisplock. Just saying.
And I would be remiss in omitting the way a long-dead wizard is pensioned off to a strip club - which, considering said wizard was from the era when a wayward ankle was scandalous…
“So? They’re paid to be ogled at,” said Moist. “They are professional oglees. It’s an ogling establishment.”
And a final one:
“She had the slightly wistful, slightly hungry look that so many women of a certain age wore when they’d decided to trust in gods because of the absolute impossibility of continuing to trust in men.”
As always, Pratchett is one of the underrated authors of our time. He is incredibly hilarious, but beneath the silly puns, the cultural and literary references, the magic and alternative universe, lies a keen eye for satire, and a wise perception of human nature and human foibles.
Oh, and a lot of pundits could learn a thing or sixteen about how currency works, so they could stop blithering about how bitcoin re-writes all the laws of finance.
Every medium of exchange, as Moist von Lipwig understands, rests not on some arbitrary “standard,” whether gold in a vault, an electricity-sucking algorithm, or even ancient golems in a giant pit, but on the full faith and credit of society.
The “dollar” in this book is backed, not by the stolen gold, or the interred golems, but on the city of Ankh Morpork itself.
Just like the American dollar has been the bedrock currency of the world because of the perceived stability of the American government and nation - which is essentially crumbling now due to Trump and the deterioration of American democracy and rule of law.
The moment that confidence fails, the dollar becomes meaningless, and something else will take its place. (God, MAGA people are terminally stupid!) You can’t eat gold, and you can’t eat a dollar dollar bill...
Ultimately, everything rests, not on an arbitrary medium of exchange, but on the underlying value created by humans, the people who create wealth through their effort, their creativity, their ingenuity. The bedrock of value isn’t gold, or golems, but people.
And that, ultimately, is why Moist von Lipwig succeeds: he understands and believes in people. Not that he always trusts them, of course, but that is another reason he succeeds: he can tell when he is being bullshitted, and when he is just dealing with ordinary human behavior.
This is another strength of Pratchett. He gets it. The world would be a far better place with more Pratchetts and a lot fewer Trumps in it. As well as more people who read Pratchett’s books and fewer who worship Trump’s bowel movements tweets. One will lead to a better understanding of reality. And a lot of really funny jokes. The other….not so much.
I will always strongly recommend Pratchett’s books as worthwhile reads. Making Money is no exception.
***
The complete Terry Pratchett list:
Rincewind:
Tiffany Aching:
Witches:
Watch:
Guards! Guards! (Stupid abridged edition, which is an abomination unto Nuggan and everyone else.)
Industrial Revolution:
Death:
Other Discworld:
Non-Discworld:
