Small Gods (Discworld 13)
Sep. 7th, 2023 10:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jazzfishIn which the great god Om discovers that his empire-spanning religion has decayed into a rather nasty secular power structure, and his sole remaining faithful worshiper is Brutha, a typical Pratchettian protagonist (slow-witted and socially maladept but good-hearted).
Alternately: in which I revisit the book that put me off Discworld some twenty-five years ago.
Summer, late nineties. I was having a bad time of it, for any of a number of reasons. I was at the library and thinking I could do with something fun and light. Say, like Discworld, I remembered enjoying those when I was in high school, I could try another one. So I picked up Small Gods. Which proceeded to live up to my expectations so poorly that I didn't read another Pratchett book for over a decade (Nation, which, meh), or another Discworld book until, well, the start of this project.
Surely, surely, I said to myself, I have misjudged Small Gods. Surely it is not as unsettling and unpleasant as I remember it being. Besides, my Xianity was still in its death throes, so likely I was just hypersensitive to whatever it had to say about religion. Surely I'll like it better this time through.
"Better" is relative. Literally the only part of the book I retained any memory of was the introduction, the eagle and the tortoise. "What a great friend I have in the eagle." I remembered well -that- I disliked it, but not -why-. With the benefit of years of therapy and self-knowledge, I can make a better stab at that now.
The thing is ... Exquisitor Vorbis, the antagonist, lacks redeeming features. He is an intensely unpleasant person, and personality. And we spend half or more of the book following Brutha as he follows Vorbis, gradually realizing that Vorbis is in fact an awful person, and more gradually deciding to stand up to Vorbis. This happens to be a particularly triggering set of circumstances for me. (And late-nineties Tucker was traumatized by that depiction and had no idea why.) As a result my emotional response to the book is to hurl it as far away from me as I possibly can.
So. Looked at more objectively ... I still don't like the first half. It's grim. Lies and betrayals and the conquering of Ephebe. (I wanted to like it! The Ephebians are some of my favourite Discworlders.) It gets better as Brutha develops a spine, and as Ephebe gets, well, unconquered. I'm not sure what I think of the Omnian afterlife as being a journey across a desert, though I do approve of the final image of Brutha taking Vorbis's hand. Overall it feels out of place for a Discworld book. Sort of like a delayed overcorrection from the insubstantiality ofFaust Eric.
Oddly it reads to me like a very Christian work, or at least one that exemplifies the ideals of certain flavors of Protestantism. Personal relationship with God, opposition to institutions, emphasis on kindness and forgiveness, etc. Turns out the general recipe for Being A Decent Human is fairly universal.
Next: ... oh, it's Lords and Ladies, another Witches book. Oh well.
Alternately: in which I revisit the book that put me off Discworld some twenty-five years ago.
Summer, late nineties. I was having a bad time of it, for any of a number of reasons. I was at the library and thinking I could do with something fun and light. Say, like Discworld, I remembered enjoying those when I was in high school, I could try another one. So I picked up Small Gods. Which proceeded to live up to my expectations so poorly that I didn't read another Pratchett book for over a decade (Nation, which, meh), or another Discworld book until, well, the start of this project.
Surely, surely, I said to myself, I have misjudged Small Gods. Surely it is not as unsettling and unpleasant as I remember it being. Besides, my Xianity was still in its death throes, so likely I was just hypersensitive to whatever it had to say about religion. Surely I'll like it better this time through.
"Better" is relative. Literally the only part of the book I retained any memory of was the introduction, the eagle and the tortoise. "What a great friend I have in the eagle." I remembered well -that- I disliked it, but not -why-. With the benefit of years of therapy and self-knowledge, I can make a better stab at that now.
The thing is ... Exquisitor Vorbis, the antagonist, lacks redeeming features. He is an intensely unpleasant person, and personality. And we spend half or more of the book following Brutha as he follows Vorbis, gradually realizing that Vorbis is in fact an awful person, and more gradually deciding to stand up to Vorbis. This happens to be a particularly triggering set of circumstances for me. (And late-nineties Tucker was traumatized by that depiction and had no idea why.) As a result my emotional response to the book is to hurl it as far away from me as I possibly can.
So. Looked at more objectively ... I still don't like the first half. It's grim. Lies and betrayals and the conquering of Ephebe. (I wanted to like it! The Ephebians are some of my favourite Discworlders.) It gets better as Brutha develops a spine, and as Ephebe gets, well, unconquered. I'm not sure what I think of the Omnian afterlife as being a journey across a desert, though I do approve of the final image of Brutha taking Vorbis's hand. Overall it feels out of place for a Discworld book. Sort of like a delayed overcorrection from the insubstantiality of
Oddly it reads to me like a very Christian work, or at least one that exemplifies the ideals of certain flavors of Protestantism. Personal relationship with God, opposition to institutions, emphasis on kindness and forgiveness, etc. Turns out the general recipe for Being A Decent Human is fairly universal.
Next: ... oh, it's Lords and Ladies, another Witches book. Oh well.