Terry Pratchett, a man, a myth, an absolute legend.

I honestly cannot believe it took me this long to write an ode to one of my greatest role models. A man who has shaped my mind and probably my words more than I can ever note. A man I’ve sadly never got to meet, but still viscerally miss deeply and dearly, ever since his passing from this mortal coil. A man whose imagination and sense of wonder inspired so much in me, whose wit and humour has pulled me from many a dark place.

I am of course talking about the wonderful and magical Terry Pratchett. As hyperfixations go, STP and his books have been the most steady in my life by far. I am filled with unconditional love for him, so I cannot believe it has never spilled out into my written words. He’s on of the only people I would ever dare to commemorate in a tattoo, as I did.

I have always loved reading, ever since I was little. I adored fantasy and horror books and was reading Stephen King well before I was allowed to by our local library. Having said that, I always left room for other types of books as well. I always read them in Dutch, until a wonderful English teacher broke open my world by allowing us to read books way beyond our grade level.

I must admit that since discovering Terry Pratchett, I have never strayed far from fantasy again and I have barely read anything in Dutch. Part of that is due to time constraints in growing up of course, but the Discworld books unlocked a part of me I can never put back. 

I have found few authors and books who, at least to me, could compare to the immensely imaginative and clever way of writing and world building that seemed to come so naturally to him. (Notable exceptions in the fantasy/sci-fi genre are Douglas Adams, Georg R.R. Martin and Pratchett’s good friend Neil Gaiman, co-author of the incomparable Good Omens. That book, and subsequent BBC-series, deserves its own full fledged glowing ode, which I will one day get to writing. But I digress.) 

It was on a message board roundabout 2006 when I first heard of Sir Terry, my Dutch friend Rob told me to look up the Discworld series. The Discworld is an alternate universe where a flat disc world sits on the backs of four elephants on top of the Great A’tuin, a giant star turtle, floating through the galaxy.

The books are a hilarious mix of parody of real world events and issues, folklore and myth, and they’re full of nods to great literary works throughout the ages. They are filled with wonderfully imperfect characters who you can’t help but love, many of which are very strong women who don’t take kindly to the patriarchal society in which they live. It was probably my first impression of real life feminism and I had to find it in fantasy books. ANYWAY.

My library didn’t have an extensive Discworld collection, so I couldn’t start reading chronologically. I chose the 25th novel The Truth, which is all about the first printing press and newspaper coming to the Disc. As an aspiring journalist, my interest was immediately piqued when I read the blurb on the back. It took me a little while to get used to the lack of chapters and immense layering of the stories, but I still fell immediately and hopelessly in love with the genuine wit and wonder of the novels. Not in the least, the incredibly funny and weird footnotes that litter his books always manage to make me smile. And think. All of his writing tends to do that. 

I have been curating my own Discworld series library ever since. As of this year, I finally collected all 41 books in the series in various editions, large and small. More than a few paperbacks with the signature and frankly legendary Josh Kirby and Paul Kidby covers, a decent amount of whatever edition I could find for a good price and even two first edition hardcovers I picked up in London. This chaotically beautiful array on my bookshelf is one of my most prized possessions and I wouldn’t want it any other way. It signifies my love of the words, in any form I could get my hands on. My only regret is that I never made it to one of the book signings Terry loved to do and as such don’t have a signed copy in my possession. No matter, his words are all I need. Fortunately for me, Discworld wasn’t the only thing he wrote, so I still have many more ‘new’ Pratchett books to look forward to. One day, I will make the space to dedicate an entire book case to his works, when my collection of his words nears completion. 

Another thing I absolutely adore about his work is how I can read and re-read them until the end of time. Because of the many layers to his writing and the endless references he incorporates in his stories, I will always find a new way to enjoy the books. Having read them through various stages of life, having accumulated new factoids, knowledge and life experience myself, I will always discover something new. Even within the Discworld series, which I have gone through at least five times in its entirety now, I still discover new foreshadowing and references I missed in my last reads. 

I also love how there’s so many ways to read them. You don’t HAVE to read them all in chronological order. (In fact, there might not even BE an exact chronological way to read them since novel 26 Thief of Time and 29 Night Watch happen concurrently, but that’s another story.) You can just as easily enjoy any of the books in their own right or choose to read the sub-series that strikes your fancy. (Pick your poison: Witches or Wizards? Industrial revolution or murder mystery?) But don’t let the subject matter of those fool you. I used to think I wasn’t that much of a City Watch sub-series fan, but in the meantime I have grown to love them just as much as the rest of the books. I even went as far as to name a pet for one of the characters in that series. Meet the honourable Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson of the City Watch, a lovable ginger giant!

Not sure where to start? Send me a message, I will be MORE than happy to try and find the right Terry Pratchett/Discworld book for you. Or check out the quiz & sub-series via the Discworld Emporium. (Downsideup can not be held responsible for possible addiction and/or loss of money after clicking said link. Also, I am in no way affiliated with the Emporium, but would gladly be if they’d have me. You can pay me in books & merch! 😂)

In short, the Discworld novels have changed the way I view the world in more ways than one. They made me learn how to question the world and my place in it. They taught me women don’t need princes on white horses to save them and can stand for something in their own right. And in smaller ways, I will never see a Grim Reaper and be scared. I will never look at an Orangutan again without thinking of the Librarian Ape who is smarter than all the bumbling Wizards combined. I fill my own world and space with as many things as I can that remind me of the series, as you can see by the pictures added into this blog.

Reading the last book broke my heart in more ways than I can describe here without writing some serious spoilers. Suffice it to say, a lot had to do with the untimely demise of the author himself at age 66, from a rare form of early onset Alzheimer’s disease which he nicknamed ‘the embuggerance’. I always saw it as one of the great injustices of the world, having to lose such a great mind to such an awful debilitating disease attacking that beautiful mind full of fantasy and wonder. (Not to mention it hit a little close to home too, having lost a few people to that and similar diseases. My great uncle for instance, who actually looked strikingly similar to Pratchett, had suffered the same fate.)

An even bigger injustice perhaps, is that it is still taboo and even illegal in many places in the world, to choose your own ending when a disastrous disease like this one strikes. Pratchett stood on the frontlines of bringing the inhumanity of the illegality in the UK to light. Before his death he talked at length about euthanasia and assisted suicide and even made the touching documentary ‘Choosing to die’. Having been witness to more than a few people withering away to mere shadows of themselves because of the taboo that still rests on the subject, I feel very fortunate to live in a country that at least gives me a legal option to choose for myself.

I don’t even think I came close to doing Terry Pratchett justice with this ode. I haven’t even told you how he forged his own sword when he was knighted. Or how he had his hard-disc run over by a steamroller. Or how he’s the father of an amazing daughter who’s also a writer in her own right and made one of the most beautiful indie video games I’ve ever played. (She deserves her own ode, I am sure!)

The world is a better place for having had a man like Terry Pratchett grace it with his presence, intelligence, humour and combative egalitarianism. He was as Purple as can be. (You might even say he is beyond Purple into Octarine, aka the Colour of Magic.) The world is a sadder and darker place for having lost him.

But in his own words, as I quoted him at my own fathers funeral: 

No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away,
until the clock wound up winds down,
until the wine she made has finished its ferment,
until the crop they planted is harvested.
The span of someone’s life is only the core of their actual existence.

Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken? Speak his name.

TERRY PRATCHETT