Showing posts with label Discworld. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Discworld. Show all posts

Monday, March 9, 2020

Unseen Academicals by Terry Pratchett


Source of book: Audiobook borrowed from my brother

Ah yes, time for another Discworld audiobook to make the miles go by quickly. Unseen Academicals is the 37th Discworld novel, and the last in the Rincewind/wizards series. However, I think that it stands alone reasonably well as long as the reader knows some basic Discworld realities, and is familiar with the Unseen University denizens. We previously read or listened to the first four Rincewind novels, so it was no problem to pick up the story. 

The basic setup of the plot is this: it comes to the attention of the indolent and incompetent faculty of Unseen University that a rather large bequest (which enables their indolent lifestyle and lavish feasting) is contingent on the university fielding a football (soccer, for Americans…) team. This is problematic both because of the general lack of athleticism of the faculty and students, and because football in Ankh-Morpork is mob football, an often fatal and always violent enterprise. 

To solve this conundrum, the wizards join forces with Lord Vetinari (the Machiavellian ideal of a dictator - and I mean that in a good way...mostly), who wishes to regulate and civilize the sport. In order to do this, new rules need to be invented, and then promulgated in a way that will be accepted by the mob football traditionalists. The Archchancellor, Mustrum Ridcully, who is pretty much incompetent at everything, nominates Ponder Stibbons to figure things out. 

Stibbons is an interesting character in the series. He is arguably the only truly competent faculty member other than the Librarian, and has created a rudimentary artificial intelligence, HEX, using ants and rats and other things. Over the years, he has accumulated a plethora of titles, until he basically runs the university. An interesting side note here is that Stibbons cannot grow a beard, and looks - in the illustrations - more than a bit like...Harry Potter. Since the Discworld books - including the illustrations - came out years before Potter, any “borrowing” must have been done by J. K. Rowling. And Ponder, Potter, hmm…


Draw your own conclusions...



Since this is Terry Pratchett, it is easy to guess that hilarity will ensue. And it definitely does. Much of the book is a parody of football culture, from its mob days to its modern English Premier League incarnation. Pratchett also pokes fun at university sports culture, ludicrous ancient rituals at said colleges, and sports interview cliches. But that isn’t all. At its core, the book is about belonging - inclusion and exclusion. Along with that comes a pointed look at the generational trauma of slavery and colonialism, the dynamics of bullying, prejudice, and more. Oh, and then you have the parodies of Romeo and Juliet, the fashion industry, and psychology. Whew! It’s quite a ride, and there are so very many pithy quotes. 

So how did it get there from football? Well, a university doesn’t run on magic alone. It takes a large staff to keep the candles lit, the wizards fed, and the place reasonably clean. The basement servants’ quarters are full of people too, including some of Pratchett’s best characters. The genius (Lord Vetinari’s words) of the kitchen is Glenda Sugarbean, a kindhearted if a bit daunting woman, who rules all things culinary in the university. She fiercely looks out for Juliet, a gorgeous but not particularly bright young woman entrusted to her care. (Juliet’s parents are more interested in drinking away her earnings.) Also downstairs are Trevor Likely, in love with Juliet, and brilliant footballer; and Mr. Nutt, an odd character of mysterious background. Ah yes, Mr. Nutt. He is a savant, highly educated, and looks kind of like a goblin. He is obsessed with “attaining worth,” and thus works exceedingly hard. It is he who ends up with the job of coaching the football team. It turns out that Nutt spent his formative years chained to an anvil, before being freed and educated by Lady Margolatta. Also, he is an orc, which he has to discover through psychoanalysis. 

Orcs, as any fantasy fan would know, are not goblins, although they can be similar. While goblins occur in nature, orcs were created to be fighting machines. In the Discworld universe, they were created by the eagles to supply a sentient weapon for the armies back in the days of the Evil Empire. But they were not made from goblins. As Lady Margolotta (who has protected the few remaining orcs after they were slaughtered for being an inconvenient reminder of the past) puts it, “But the Orcs were made from men, you know, not goblins.” Vetinari replies, “No. However, now that you tell me it, it’s patently obvious. Goblins would not have been nearly ferocious enough.” 

The book thus centers around two sets of characters. The wizards try to figure out how to field a football team and keep their feasts going. Oh, and feud with a neighboring university. At the same time, Glenda, Juliet, Trevor, and Nutt have their own challenges and adventures. They overlap and combine, of course, with football at the core. 

Juliet becomes a model for Dwarf fashions (that’s as amusing as it sounds), Trevor is torn between his promise to his late Mum that he would never play football and his obvious skills, Nutt seeks to understand himself and become worthy, and Glenda has to be the mastermind keeping the rest out of trouble. 

Here are the quotes I liked the best, starting with this exchange between Lord Vetinari and his secretary: 

“The female mind is certainly a devious one, my lord."
Vetinari looked at his secretary in surprise. "Well, of course it is. It has to deal with the male one.”

By this point in the series, Vetinari has become one of the best characters, with shrewd powers of observation, and a knack for soft politics that seems missing in our own time. He is the first to identify Glenda as the brilliant person she is, and his handling of a very volatile situation surrounding football is politics at its best. 

Near the end, he finally lets down his guard for a second, in a rather interesting scene. Lady Margolotta is pretty shrewd herself, but she also has the blindness of one who is used to being the benevolent benefactor. With her inherited wealth and title, she doesn’t see underlings as equals, so she is condescending to Nutt, even as she does him immense good. She totally underestimates Glenda. Vetinari finds this amusing, because while he may or may not have the book learning Margolotta does, he has years of avoiding assassination, and thus reads people extremely well. At the end of the book, she asks Nutt if he is willing to go meet others of his kind and raise them up from the degradation they have suffered. 

“Many bad things were done under the Evil Empire" she said. "The best we can do now is undo them. Will you assist in this endeavor?"
"In every way that I can" said Nutt.
"I would like you to teach them civilized behavior," said Ladyship coldly.
He appeared to consider this. "Yes, of course, I think, that would be quite possible," he said. "And who would you send to teach the humans?"
There was a brief outburst of laughter from Vetinari, who immediately cupped his hand over his mouth. "Oh I do beg your pardon," he said.” 

There is more than a little of the charity woman in this portrayal. You know, the missionary spirit: go “civilize” the “savages” in the third world. The great white savior complex, so to speak - memorably portrayed by Harrison Ford in the somewhat obscure movie Mosquito Coast. Like Nutt, I often ask myself who will come teach Americans how to be decent, moral, Christian people. Because we sure need it. On a related note:

“Juliet's version of cleanliness was next to godliness, which was to say it was erratic, past all understanding and was seldom seen.”

I’ve spent much of my life around that kind of “godliness.” For that matter, how about this bit from Vetinari, perhaps channelling Darwin? 

“The Patrician took a sip of his beer. “I have told this to few people, gentlemen, and I suspect I never will again, but one day when I was a young boy on holiday in Uberwald I was walking along the bank of a stream when I saw a mother otter with her cubs. A very endearing sight, I’m sure you will agree, and even as I watched, the mother otter dived into the water and came up with a plump salmon, which she subdued and dragged on to a half-submerged log. As she ate it, while of course it was still alive, the body split and I remember to this day the sweet pinkness of its roes as they spilled out, much to the delight of the baby otters, who scrambled over themselves to feed on the delicacy. One of nature’s wonders, gentlemen: mother and children dining on mother and children. And that’s when I first learned about evil. It is built into the nature of the universe. Every world spins in pain. If there is any kind of supreme being, I told myself, it is up to all of us to become his moral superior.” 

Something to think about, in any case, whatever your belief about the Divine. 

Oh, and here is another Vetinari gem:

“Peace?' said Vetinari. 'Ah, yes, defined as a period of time to allow for preparation for the next war.”

On a rather lighter note, how about this one? 

“It is considered in the Sto Plains that only scoundrels know the second verse of their national anthem, since anyone spending time memorizing that would be up to no good purpose.”

Of course, it is our third verse of the national anthem that is quite problematic - the one talking about how the slaves who sought refuge with the British would be slaughtered. Not good. But the quote is quite amusing. And probably true. 

'Oh, you know the sort of thing if you read the papers a lot,' said Ponder. 'I seriously think they think that it is their job to calm people down by first of all explaining why they should be overexcited and very worried.’

A good bit to that one too. 

Poetry fans (or haters) will appreciate this one:

“Nutt was technically an expert on love poetry throughout the ages and had discussed it at length with Miss Healstether, the castle librarian. He had also tried to discuss it with Ladyship, but she had laughed and said it was frivolity, although quite helpful as a tutorial on the use of vocabulary, scansion, rhythm and affect as a means to an end, to wit getting a young lady to take all her clothes off. At that particular point, Nutt had not really understood what she meant. It sounded like some sort of conjuring trick.”

As usual, Pratchett is brilliant when discussing prejudice. All the things that “everybody knows” but also are not true. Things like “orcs eat people” or pretty much anything that comes out of Donald Trump’s mouth about non-whites. It is when we fool ourselves into believing these untrue things - and acting on them - that we cause great damage to the world. 

“Sometimes people fool themselves into believing things that aren't true. Sometimes that can be quite dangerous for the person. They see the world in a wrong way. They won't let themselves see that what they believe is wrong. But often there is a part of the mind that does know, and the right words can let it out.” 

There are so many more great moments. The ludicrous German titles of Discworld psychology books. The many references to literature where famous lines are warped into parodies. The naughty references which go completely over Juliet’s head. Oh, and Pepe. I can’t forget him - the street urchin re-made as a flamboyant pseudo-French assistant to the Dwarf fashionista. 

I could go on and on. But anyway, this is a hilarious book, full of “Easter Eggs” for the literary sorts, and moral and empathetic to its core. We love Terry Pratchett around here, and I only regret that I didn’t discover him until I was in my late thirties. 

This audiobook was narrated by the delightful Stephen Briggs. We also like Nigel Planer, who is more likely to be on the earlier books than the later ones. I wouldn’t start with this book if you are new to Discworld, but definitely come back and read it after getting your bearings. 

***

The Discworld Wiki is a good source for understanding the references and the world itself. 
For information about reading order and how things connect, this page is helpful.

***

The Terry Pratchett list:

Rincewind:


Tiffany Aching:


Witches:


Watch:

Guards! Guards! (Stupid abridged edition, which is an abomination.)

Non-Discworld:



Monday, February 26, 2018

I Shall Wear Midnight by Terry Pratchett

Source of book: Audiobook borrowed from my brother

Since first discovering Terry Pratchett less than five years ago, he has become one of our favorite authors. His imagination, social commentary, and strikingly complex and nuanced ethical dilemmas make for enjoyable yet deep books. And he does it all with brilliant humor and an empathetic touch.

Here are our previous selections:

Discworld Novels

Guards! Guards (stupid abridged edition &#$*@!)

Non-Discworld Novels and Short Stories


***


This book is #4 in the Tiffany Aching series - and you really should read them in order. Tiffany is a young witch (which in Discworld means she does magic - but mostly fills the role of nurse/midwife/social worker in her community.) In the first book, The Wee Free Men, she is a child, and has to deal with a child-appropriate challenge: keeping the queen of Fairyland out of the real (disk)world, and incidentally rescuing the local baron’s son. She then is able to train to be a full-fledged witch.

In the second book, A Hat Full of Sky, Tiffany is a bit older, and has a more complex and grown up problem. A “hiver” tries to take over her mind, and she must fight it off while trying to learn her craft. The ethical dilemma involves pride and empathy and what it means to be a witch.

The third book, Wintersmith, has Tiffany older still, and further along in her training. In a bit of a metaphor for puberty, she ends up inadvertently involved with the Wintersmith, the spirit of winter. While figuring out how to correct her mistake and allow spring to return, she also has to help extricate another witch in training (the delightfully mean-girl Anagrama) from problems of her own making. In essence, Tiffany has to learn leadership.

In this book, I Shall Wear Midnight, Tiffany is nearly 16, and is working as a witch in her native Chalk Country. The old baron is dying, his son Roland is engaged to a girl Tiffany dislikes (in part because she had feelings for Roland, a local teen girl miscarries after her father beats her nearly to death. Oh, and the ancient incorporeal embodiment of a notorious witch hunter known as the Cunning Man has returned, and is hunting Tiffany. Just another day in Discworld…

I Shall Wear Midnight has significantly more “adult” themes than the earlier books in the series. And by “adult,” I don’t mean smut. The themes do often involve sex, as do some of the jokes (and I mean that in the best possible way), but nothing is for titillation: these are adult problems that require maturity to address appropriately. So, Tiffany has to figure out how to protect a victim of domestic violence - and protect the perpetrator from being lynched by the mob. She has to navigate her own romantic feelings - and her own dark side - while doing the right thing for others and for her village. She has to figure out how to handle the issue of teen pregnancy and love. And she has to deal with a false accusation against her, and the creeping spirit of hatred that threatens to destroy her - and all that is good.

This time, she has to do it alone. At least mostly. The other witches can’t really help her here, except with advice; and indeed, they are poised to kill her if she succumbs to the Cunning Man. At least she has the Wee Free Men on her side, even if they cannot fight this battle. And she has the incorruptible Preston, who believes in her even when the lies about her threaten to fool everyone else.

Since the plot is a lot of fun, I won’t spoil any more of it than I have to.

I was particularly struck by how applicable to our present political moment this book is. There is a fantastic quote near the end, when Tiffany confronts the Cunning Man.

“Your power is only rumour and lies, she thought. You bore your way into people when they are uncertain and weak and worried and frightened, and they think their enemy is other people when their enemy is, and always will be, you – the master of lies. Outside, you are fearsome; inside, you are nothing but weakness.”

Pratchett really nails it here. The Cunning Man is no longer a person - he is just an idea: those rumors and lies that turn humans against each other. His spirit lives on in those like Le Toupee who stir up racial hatred against immigrants, refugees, and those outside our tribes. It is a spirit which is contrary to teachings and example of Christ, and it is ironic that Pratchett, who was not religious, had a better handle on this than a shockingly high number of Christians in this country.

There are so many marvelous quotes in this book - Pratchett writes like a human quote generator. Let me mention some of my favorites, starting with these two:

“Evil begins when you begin to treat people as things.”
My wife marched at the local women’s march last month carrying that quote on a sign. This is one of Granny Weatherwax’s pearls of wisdom. The second quote is related:

“People aren't just people, they are people surrounded by circumstances.”

That’s the problem with oversimplification - particularly when it comes to poverty. It is why giving people moral lectures doesn’t help - and tends to make things worse. The circumstances are important, and you can’t just look at people in isolation from them.

And then, there is this quote, which is pretty apropos to our times as well as to the Cunning Man and his ideas:

“And there are those who would rather be behind evil than in front of it.”

Pratchett also expresses what many of us who long for a better, more just world feel, both about the past (which isn’t the glorious golden age people wish to imagine) and the future.

“There have been times, lately, when I dearly wished that I could change the past. Well, I can’t, but I can change the present, so that when it becomes the past it will turn out to be a past worth having.”

Or this one, about life and death - Pratchett has so many fine quotes on these topics:

“One day all of us will die but - and this is the important thing - we are not dead yet.”

Don’t think for a moment, however, that this book (or any Pratchett book) is dark and serious. Pratchett simply overflows with good humor and wit both smart and silly.

“Roland was staring at Tiffany, so nonplussed he was nearly minused.”

“Behind her, Preston grunted and said, "I know it's not the right thing to say to a lady, miss, but you are sweating like a pig!"
Tiffany, trying to get her shattered thoughts together, muttered, "My mother always said that horses sweat, men perspire, and ladies merely glow..."
"Is that so?" said Preston cheerfully.
"Well, miss, you are glowing like a pig!”

The Wee Free Men, aka the Nac Mac Feegles, are hilarious whenever they appear. Some of the best lines belong to Daft Wullie, who is not, shall we say, the sharpest tool in the shed.

“I may be daft but I'm no' stupid!” he protests. But then, after really inserts his foot in his mouth:
Rob Anybody clearly noticed this, because he turned to his brother and said, “Ye will bring tae mind, brother o’ mine, that there was times when ye should stick your head up a duck’s bottom rather than talk?” Daft Wullie looked down at his feet. “Sorry, Rob. I couldna find a duck just noo.”

Pratchett rarely passes up a chance to make a mildly naughty joke either - in good British taste, naturally. I liked this exchange:

“‘Arse’ is a traditional usage—nothing to be ashamed of.” The Baron nodded. “It has a commendable grown-up sharpness to it. ‘Ass,’ on the other hand, is quite frankly for spinsters and little children.” Tiffany turned the words on her tongue for a moment and said, “Yes, sir. I think that is probably the long and the short of it.”

I’ll finish with a couple from Tiffany, in her less than charitable moments. Throughout the book, she struggles with the thoughts that the Cunning Man puts in her head, and doesn’t always quite win the battle. About her rival (who later turns out to be not all that bad):

“Letitia! What a name. Halfway between a salad and a sneeze.”

And, about Letitia’s genuinely appalling mother (who both gets a comeuppance and turns out to be more a complex and troubled person than a true villain):

“Well, child? Aren't you going to try to turn me into some kind of unspeakable creature?”
“I don't think I shall bother, madam, seeing as you are making such a good job of it yourself!”

Perhaps that is the theme to take away from the book, though. People are surrounded by circumstance, and are rarely pure good or pure evil. They are complicated, and navigating through life requires learning to read them. And being a decent person requires rejecting the hatred of the Cunning Man, and rejecting the urge to turn our fears and weakness into harming others.

My second daughter is particularly fond of this book out of all of the Pratchett books we have read. I have to concede that it is indeed a good one. However, it makes the most sense if you read the others in the Tiffany Aching series first, so you understand her history and how she came to be who she is.

***

Just a note of caution on the audiobooks: For reasons that are entirely lost on me, somebody decided that Pratchett needed to be shortened, and made a series of abridged audiobooks read by Tony Robinson. In the process, much of what makes Pratchett delightful is lost. The detail, the language, the wit. DO NOT BOTHER WITH THESE! THEY SUCK! And I hope there is a circle of hell for book abridgers in general. Blah!

Instead, look for one narrated by Stephen Briggs, if possible. (Nigel Planer is also good.) Briggs was a good friend of Pratchett’s and they collaborated on a number of projects. Briggs is a fantastic reader in general, and and particularly good at the Wee Free Men and Anagrama.









Tuesday, September 5, 2017

The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett

Source of book: Audiobook borrowed from my brother.

Earlier this year, we listened to the very first Discworld book, The Colour of Magic, which my sons in particular loved, and had read themselves before we listened to it. We got our start on Terry Pratchett with his early novel, The Carpet People, which is not part of the Discworld universe, although it could be. From there, we listened to Dodger, about Victorian England, before finally making our acquaintance with Discworld through the first three Tiffany Aching books. (The Wee Free Men, A Hat Full of Sky, and Wintersmith.) Somewhere in there, we also listened to some short stories collected as Dragons at Crumbling Castle. (I am in denial about the abridged edition of Guards! Guards!) 



Anyway, The Light Fantastic is the second Discworld book written, and the direct sequel to The Colour of Magic. In fact, one might well consider it to be part of the same story, as the first book ends with a literal cliffhanger.

Incompetent wizard Rincewind has just joined tourist from hell Two Flower and his sapient chest The Luggage in tumbling off the edge of the disk toward oblivion. This is a cosmic problem, however, because inside Rincewind’s head is one of the eight great magic spells from the Octavo. This magic book takes the liberty of rewriting reality in order to save Rincewind - and thus itself.

Meanwhile, a red star has appeared in the sky, headed apparently right for the Discworld. The world’s greatest wizards decide that the eight spells from the Octavo need to be said in order to save the world from certain destruction. Thus, they need to find Rincewind. The Octavo does not particularly want Rincewind to be found, at least until the proper time. As Rincewind eventually learns from the spell squatting in his mind, he was chosen because he has an incredible ability to sense danger and run away, thus preserving himself.

Rincewind and Two Flower (and the Luggage, of course) end up in a magic forest with a gingerbread house, catch a ride on a flying rock piloted by a druid, and end up disrupting a virgin sacrifice at a Stonehenge analogue. They are saved by Cohen the Barbarian, one of Pratchett’s best creations.

Cohen is meant to be a parody of Conan, naturally, much like Hrun in The Colour of Magic. However, while Hrun is a straight up barbarian, Cohen is, well, old. He has forgotten whether he is 90 or 95, has no teeth, has constant aches in the back and other ailments of age. His long white beard comes down to his loincloth.

But he is no weakling. He didn’t live to be his age while saving maidens in distress, looting temples, and starting fights by being weak. No sir, he can still best just about anyone - particularly those who underestimate him. Well, as long as his back doesn’t lock up…

So anyway, Cohen rescues this virgin sacrifice, Bethan, who falls in love with him, because he is irresistible to nubile maidens. (This is why he has dozens of children.) Bethan, though, is special, because she can give amazing massages, allowing Cohen’s back to cooperate with him.

In any case, Cohen is quite funny, a very Pratchett sort of character.

Rincewind’s troubles aren’t over, however. Two Flower manages to get poisoned, and Rincewind has to follow him to Death’s domain and bring him back. This is complicated by Death’s adopted daughter, Ysabell, who has been lonely for company and would rather keep Rincewind with her. And also by Two Flower, who has occupied himself by teaching the Four Horsemen how to play bridge. (For those not up on their apocalyptic studies, they would be Death, War, Famine, and Pestilence. Although in our modern world, Pestilence has retired, replaced by Pollution - at least that’s Pratchett’s take in Good Omens, which he wrote with Neil Gaiman.)

After that, it is off to Ankh-Morpork to try to save the world. And finally find out the answer to the crucial question of the sex of the great turtle on which the world rides.

If anything, The Light Fantastic is even better than The Colour of Magic. Pratchett seems to be finding a properly sardonic voice, and some of the familiar features of the Discworld universe come into view.

Pratchett continues to satirize modern society through the fantastic. In his sights in this novel are apocalyptic nuts of various stripes. As the world appears doomed to end, some head for the hills. Although not to escape, but “because the view will be better.” Others decide to go on a witch, I mean wizard hunt, seeking to kill off the wizards to appease the gods. (That the wizards are, on average, barely more competent than Rincewind doesn’t help matters.) Others are burning books.  Some others are taking advantage of the end of the world to make a profit. And the Druids are sacrificing a virgin. At least until Cohen shows up.

Two Flower continues to impress as the ideal form of the Ugly Tourist, driving Rincewind nuts by referring to things as “quaint” and “picturesque” and other head patting terms. And he has this rosy outlook that makes him believe that nothing will harm him because he is “not involved.”

There are far too many great quotes in this book to include here. I’ll pick a few, however.

About the age of the universe: the Discworld isn’t actually ancient, it just looks that way, because of “fake fossil bones put there by a Creator with nothing better to do than upset archeologists and give them silly ideas”
About Trymon, the wizard who seeks to master the spells and the universe:

Besides, there was something disquieting about young Trymon.  He didn’t smoke, only drank boiled water, and Galder had a nasty suspicion that he was clever.  He didn’t smile often enough, and he liked figures and the sort of organisation charts that show lots of squares with arrows pointing to other squares.  In short, he was the sort of man who could use the word ‘personnel’ and mean it.

From an exchange in the forest between Rincewind and Two Flower:

‘Do you think there’s anything to eat in this forest?’
‘Yes,’ said the wizard bitterly, ‘us’.
That is, after all, the conundrum of nature…

And on the Druids, who are all too often romanticised:

Of course, like druids everywhere they believed in the essential unity of all life, the healing power of plants, the natural rhythm of the seasons and the burning alive of anyone who didn’t approach all this in the right frame of mind...

On a related note:

You’ve got to face it, all this stuff about golden boughs and the cycles of nature and stuff just boils down to sex and violence, usually at the same time.’

One of my favorite quotes is a purely Pratchett conception of the universe:

The universe, they said, depended for its operation on the balance of four forces which they identified as charm, persuasion, uncertainty and bloody-mindedness.

As a theory, it may be on to something.

There were also a series of quotes about gender stereotypes that caused my second daughter to snort when she heard them. One of the minor characters is a female warrior (whose hard to pronounce name eludes me) who is employed by some of the wizards to find Rincewind.

She was too big to be a thief, too honest to be an assassin, too intelligent to be a wife, and too proud to enter the only other female profession generally available...any woman setting out to make a living by the sword isn’t about to go around looking like something off the cover of the more advanced kind of lingerie catalogue for the specialised buyer.

It isn’t easy being a woman warrior, though.

Not for the first time she reflected that there were many drawbacks to being a swordswoman, not least of which was that men didn’t take you seriously until you’d actually killed them, by which time it didn’t really matter anyway.

But the best one, and the one my daughter reacted to the most was this one:

Unseen University had never admitted women, muttering something about problems with the plumbing, but the real reason  was an unspoken dread that if women were allowed to mess around with magic they would probably be embarrassingly good at it …

I’m inclined to think that this is the real reason behind pretty much every attempt to keep women in their place and out of leadership.

We thoroughly enjoyed this particular book, and continue to find Pratchett to be delightful. I wish I had discovered his books when I was a child or teen, but at least I get to experience them with the kids.