I was born at the time
when Terry Pratchett's career had already taken off and he'd set out to work
diligently on his novels - both those of the Discworld series and those set in unrelated worlds. One of the first
full-length novels I read as a child was Wyrd Sisters - the sixth novel in the Discworld series. It was also the first
literary satire that I came across - my introduction to the genius overlap
between humor and literature, and one which delighted and intrigued me in turn. I proceeded
to explore the Discworld - and then venture out of Discworld - in a haphazard
order, with all the childish enthusiasm a book-lover in the making can muster.
My mother read each novel alongside me - sometimes before me - and our every
trip to a bookstore resulted in an addition to our ever-growing Terry Pratchett
collection. No bookstore clerk seemed willing to tell us exactly how many
books there were in total, or which order they were supposed to be read in -
but it hardly mattered. As long as there were novels, we would be reading and
re-reading them, and our discussions went far beyond the contents of just one.
We would get introduced to characters we'd already met in latter books, then
have a-ha moments when we finally
understood some references we'd come across in our chaotic, non-sequential
exploration of Discworld, and of
Terry Pratchett.
My favorite character, incidentally,
was Death. Today I am not entirely sure if I am happy or devastated by the
fact.
Terry Pratchett was also my
introduction to Neil Gaiman - through their collaboration on Good Omens. The novel was prefaced with
the comment that it's a miracle how it ever became written, considering the
fact that Terry was an early bird and Neil a night owl.
And from then on out, for as long as I lived with my parents, my mother and I
would reference this tidbit when we'd pass one another in the hallway - me on
my way to bed, her on her way to work.
"Good morning, Terry."
"Good night, Neil."
and then
"Good morning, Neil."
"Good night, Terry."
Following Terry's diagnosis with
Alzheimer's and my grandmother's passing after a long struggle with the
disease, I went on to major in psychology. Last year, in my final
year of undergraduate studies, I took a course in Social psychopathology, which
encouraged debate on controversial topics. On the day these debates were held -
publicly and loudly, to the ire of
other professors in the building - I was (justifiably) late to class a full
hour, showing up for the very end of the debate on assisted suicide. I alighted
on an auditorium full of tears, grief and general sadness, only to be told that
it was Terry's impassioned speech on the subject, played via YouTube, that had closed
the debate. Its impact was such that it had reduced a mass of 21 year-old soon-to-be
graduates to sobs, including the opposing side. I could never decide if I
was glad or sad to have missed it.
When I started grad school, I
met my friend Natalie and became a book blogger - devoting a large part of my
free time solely to the promotion, discussion and appreciation of books. It was
a hobby a long time in the making, and largely influenced by those first
literary heroes and their wildly talented creators. And if we ever touched on
the subject of the humor in literature - whether on the blog, on social media
or in our own personal discussions, I would start with Terry's work and go from
there. Natalie and I are part of the "Generation Y", which we choose
to call the Harry Potter generation.
The reason is obvious. We feel like it was books, more than any other form of
entertainment, which shaped our childhoods. These books led us to become
impassioned readers, devoted book-lovers and outspoken enthusiasts in
all-things-literature. Most days it feels like we owe large parts of ourselves
to these authors who penned our youth, and despite our daily
immersion in the literary community, it is a kind of influence that can't be
fully explained, and one which we cannot give enough thanks for to those who
deserve it the most. Just a few short days ago, a "love letter to bookbloggers" was published in The
Guardian, by a grateful author who marveled that we are a powerful, vocal
force which does what they do for free and out of love. From a book blogger's
perspective, however, it is these authors we promote who we can never quite
thank as they ought to be thanked. And it is our pleasure to try at every turn.
In the end, it was Sir Pratchett himself who said "No more words. We know them all, all the words that should not be
said. But you have made my world more perfect." This encapsulates it
all better than we ourselves could have ever expressed it.
This afternoon, the same Guardian published Terry Pratchett's obituary. And one of these authors who shaped a generation - myself included -
has left us forever. I will miss Sir Terry Pratchett's books. I will miss
Discworld, and the anticipation of the upcoming release. I will miss the many
stories that surely remained untold and the characters we could have met. But
most of all, I will miss Sir Terry Pratchett himself - the genius, the humor,
the fantastical mind and the eternally kind soul.
And today, for one last time, I
will be calling my mother to say
Good night, Terry.
You have made my world more perfect.
2 Comments
Okay now I'm crying.
ReplyDeleteYou are not alone. And for what it's worth - I'm always here (and on social media), ready and willing to commiserate. I've hardly had an unrelated thought since I heard the news.
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