#01 The Color of Magic

but Rincewind always thought it looked a sort of greenish purple

WHAT'S GOING ON HERE? This was the very first Discworld novel, and in it Pratchett had not yet sharpened his wit to a killing edge. As you probably know, The Color of Magic is very heavily influenced by The Hitchhiker's Guide series. Instead of hapless alien Ford Prefect, we've got hapless wizard Rincewind. Instead of hapless and mildly aggravating intergalactic tourist Arthur Dent, we've got hapless and mildly aggravating intercontinental tourist Twoflower. There's even a sequence that vaguely recalls the dadaist effects of the Infinite Improbability Drive, and, while we're talking about it, there's also a stolen spaceship with a provenance in precious metals. And, of course, one of the (so far) utterly useless Eight Great Spells replaces The Guide. (And there might be a couple of nods to "DON'T PANIC!," as well.)
ILLUSTRATIVE QUOTE(S): "By now the whole of downtown Morpork was alight, and the richer and worthier citizens of Ankh on the far bank were bravely responding to the situation by feverishly demolishing the bridges. But already the ships in the Morpork docks — laden with grain, cotton and timber, and coated with tar — were blazing merrily and, their moorings burnt to ashes, were breasting the river Ankh on the ebb tide, igniting riverside palaces and bowers as they drifted like glowing fireflies toward the sea."
TEDIOUS PERSONAL OBSERVATION: ...Which is not to say The Color of Magic is a bad or unappealing book, of course — it's still very funny and very well-written. But Death isn't yet himself, and on the whole the novel is more a form of entertainment than an implement of reader annihilation. I will say that Pratchett, handily and apparently without effort, uses the book as an opportunity to shear the unearthly mystery from He Who Must Not Be Named (G*d) and return it to its rightful owner, She Who Must Not Be Named (L*ck). Which is not only appropriate — insofar as religion is horseshit which reliably alters its aroma depending on the direction of the wind, whereas gambling, for example, is Eternal, Universal, and Unchanging — but also true. This is a feeling you may come to recognize frequently enough to befriend it, as you read the Discworld.
IMPLEMENT OF DESTRUCTION: You won't need to kill yourself after reading this book. But, take the time you would ordinarily devote to planning your own demise and sharpen some extra knives. You'll need them sooner or later, believe me.

 

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