Review: Small Gods by Terry Pratchett
Blurb:
Brutha, a simple lad who only wants to tend his melon patch, hears the voice of a god—small, but bossy as hell—in this hilarious installment of Sir Terry Pratchett's bestselling Discworld series
Lost in the chill deeps of space between the galaxies, it sails on forever, a flat, circular world carried on the back of a giant turtle— Discworld —a land where the unexpected can be expected. Where the strangest things happen to the nicest people. Like Brutha, a simple lad who only wants to tend his melon patch. Until one day he hears the voice of a god calling his name. A small god, to be sure. But bossy as Hell.
Religion is a competitive business in the Discworld. Everyone has their own opinion and their own gods, of every shape and size—all fighting for faith, followers, and a place at the top. So when the great god Om accidentally manifests himself as a lowly tortoise, stripped of all divine power, it’s clear he’s become less important than he realized.
In such instances, you need an acolyte, and fast. Enter Brutha, the Chosen One—or at least the only One available. He wants peace, justice and love—but that’s hard to achieve in a world where religion means power, and corruption reigns supreme.
The Discworld novels can be read in any order but Small Gods is a standalone.
Review:
If there was ever a fantasy series meant to soothe the soul, it would be Terry Pratchett’s Discworld. I’ve always positioned a Discworld book around when I may be reading a heavy (literally or figuratively) book and need a recharge or refresh, and Small Gods was no different. In what could be considered a perfect entry point for the massive 41-book series, Small Gods offers boatloads of laughs against its backdrop of religion and philosophy alongside Pratchett’s signature wit to create a read that is, above all else, immensely fun.
Brutha is a novice of the Prophets of Om, a religious order in the theocratic state of Omnia, when the great god Om falls into the melon patch Brutha had been tending. Om, having accidentally manifested himself as a small tortoise, is no longer the powerful god he once was, and needs an acolyte, whom he finds in Brutha. The novice, however, though gifted with a photographic memory, is not too bright, and is less a “Chosen One” and more the person who happened to be nearby. Om tasks Brutha with forcing people to believe in him once more, though that proves difficult when small gods of every make and description are fighting for the same.
As ever, Small Gods is a riot. Pratchett was an absolute wizard in taking the conflicts of ages past and turning them on their head into the realm of absurdity. Throughout Small Gods, topics such as Greek philosophy, democracy, the Crusades, prophecy, and heliocentrism are lampooned to great effect. It frequently evokes the feeling of having a drunk conversation with a friend about these topics, and I mean that in the absolute best way. Gods are created out of everything and nothing, philosophers argue about topics in a way that feels pulled right out of a Monty Python sketch, and even when everything heads to a major battle at the end, it’s accomplished with the trademark Pratchett charm.
The dynamic between Brutha and Om is frequently hilarious, with Brutha often oblivious to the tasks required of him as Om’s acolyte, while Om’s short temper makes for some truly memorable exchanges. The cast is rounded out by a parody of Greek philosopher Diogenes, a spoof on the Inquisition—which includes both an Inquisition and an Exquisition, depending on how violent they are—and a democratically elected Tyrant, who all mix together perfectly. At points, the plot itself drags its feet a little bit, but it’s picked up by how funny the characters and prose are.
Small Gods never overstays its welcome. It’s brilliant, funny, charming, and an absolute blast to read. If you’re looking for a great entry point for Discworld, this is the one for you.
