Mar. 11th, 2013

skygiants: Sokka from Avatar: the Last Airbender peers through an eyeglass (*peers*)
Huh. Going Postal is a Pratchett I sort of remember not being super impressed by when I first read it; this time around I really liked it quite well, and I'm not totally sure why the switch.

I mean, I think part of it is probably just having recently read a history of telegraphy, because Going Postal is a SUPER TELEGRAPH BOOK . . and like the history of telegraphy I read, it is also a telegraphy-is-a metaphor-for-the-Internet book. Actually I am at least 60% convinced Terry Pratchett read The Victorian Internet somewhere in the middle of writing Going Postal, which is when the focus switches from CREEPY ELDRITCH POST OFFICE HORROR and GOLEM METAPHYSICS to, you know, telegraphy. And Business For The Public Good.

I am interested in CREEPY ELDRITCH POST OFFICE HORROR and I am interested in golem metaphysics and those things did sort of just fizzle off into the middle of this book somewhere, not really to return, so I guess it's possible that before I also was interested in telegraphy I became cranky when the things I liked went away, and that's why I didn't like it? Anyway, I'm fine with it now! I even have discovered a degree of caring about Moist, whom I never really cared about before, so that's nice.

(It is sort of interesting, though, how the CREEPY ELDRITCH POST OFFICE HORROR plot -- which starts out sort of reminiscent of Moving Pictures, another Eldritch Progress Rises From The Past narrative -- has to basically fizzle away, because Discworld is okay with technological progress now and there's nowhere for the eldritch to go. Sorry, creatures from the Dungeon Dimensions, Discworld has outpaced you and your Lovecraftian playdates have been cancelled.)

Relatedly on the progress track, I also don't know exactly why Ankh-Morpork in this book is suddenly proper steampunk -- it's very important that we know that bustles are back in and Sacharissa Crisplock is running around in bum-rolls and a fascinator, and Terry Pratchett has decided to get in on the feel of the thing by throwing in lengthy Victorian-pastiche chapter titles and descriptions, because why not -- but everyone seems to be enjoying themselves so who am I to complain?

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