What I Love about Going Postal (Part 1)
Oct. 2nd, 2007 04:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tealinI'm halfway through my last pre-Making Money re-read of Going Postal so now seems as good a time as any to transcribe my list, so far. It's just a jumble but it's in roughly chronological order. I strongly recommend anyone who has not read the book to turn away now as I give away all the cool stuff without letting you enjoy the story at all.
The endpapers covered in stamps (reason #2 to get the UK edition)
The title page ... but I think that's because it has the title on it.
The chapters, their titles, and the little sub-headings that list what's in the chapter but in such an obscure way that you have no idea what they mean until you read that far. 'The Bacon Sandwich of Regret' makes me giggle every time and is the trigger phrase for GP Glee Syndrome. Beware using it in my presence unless you like Obnoxiously Giddy.
The lead: 'They say that the prospect of being hanged in the morning concentrates a man's mind wonderfully; unfortunately, what the mind inevitably concentrates on is that it is in a body that, in the morning, is going to be hanged.' Not only is it a great hook to get you interested in the story (threat of death = involvement) but it includes the reader instantly by calling upon a well-known phrase, then turning it around to be amusing in a masterfully structured way. Subsequent revelation of the main character, his name, and how he reacts to the prospect of being hanged in the morning is an efficient, clear, and entertaining way to establish him while simultaneously getting the plot moving.
'That greatest of all treasures which is hope.'
The setup and reversal that is Vetinari's coach appearing at the execution – this, coupled with his idea of 'occupational therapy,' gives us a good idea what he's like and makes him central to the story before he actually appears.
'Moist filed that under "deeply suspicious."'
The escape and retrieval by Mr Pump: the perfect opportunity to see Moist's character in action and the perfect introduction of Pump 19. It's a surprise reveal, so the reader is both entertained and sympathetic to Moist, but he's just doing what he does and being who (and what) he is.
Moist paid $70 for a pin which Stanley later states is worth $50-$65, but a big deal is not made of this. This is the sort of thing that makes rereading so much fun.
Moist ponders the little events and chance decisions that are the turning points of history and then walks down the street that takes him to Miss Dearheart, a person who is not just the romantic interest but whose connections allow the climax of the book to progress the way it does and without whom, it is possible, the Challenge to the Clacks would not have been as successful as it was. However, it cuts to Groat back at the Post Office and the establishment of the Gnu, so you forget what you just read, before introducing her, and doesn't hit you on the head with 'LOOK IT'S A TURNING POINT!!!'
Thefordmustang, I am not one to carry a grudge, but when I find evidence to back up an ancient but friendly disagreement I cannot resist: Moist says 'we' (he and his parents?) left Lipwig 'When I was a kid.' So he would have learned Morporkian at an early enough age not to have an accent.
'... said almost-certainly-Miss Dearheart...' I love the gradual besottment in this scene. Moist doesn't step into the Golem Trust and get immediately floored by the striking Adora Belle, he comes to this through the course of a page and a half, throughout which his thoughts drift more and more out of his control. In fact that's the great thing about the internal monologue in this book, it actually works like thoughts – your brain drives itself most of the time and your thoughts go every which way, and then there are other thoughts, the you that watches you from inside, that try to correct the course or focus or whatever. Mr Pratchett explains the Second Thoughts (and Third Thoughts) idea much better in the Tiffany books and The Bromeliad. Anyway, this makes you actually feel like you're riding around in Moist's head, as opposed to him telling you the story. His thoughts are orderly when he's calm and collected but when he's nervous or excited in any way his thoughts start to race away from him, either happily about a scheme or Miss Dearheart when he ought to be focusing on something else, or in horror when he's in a scary situation. (more on this to follow)
Also, Moist doesn't meet Miss Dearheart just to meet Miss Dearheart, that scene plays a useful expository purpose insofar as establishing golems and revealing the immediacy of the threat to Postmasters not-so-long-past.
'I am the fibbermeister'
The way Moist keeps compromising – but in an entirely rational way – to stay in his position: He starts out with 'escape as soon as possible' then eases into 'play it straight for a few days, then run at the first opportunity,' but in only a day or so (and by page 89) is at 'hang on for a while and make some money off this, then escape.' And this is all in his own head; he isn't agreeing with anyone who tells him to stay put.
'His head was all over the wall... Look, he said to his imagination, if this is how you're going to behave, I shan't bring you again.' Thoughts racing away, again. See?
'This place is cursèd.'
The Order of the Post ... of course.
When Moist gets swept up in the moment and has his manic absurd conversation with the mail ... and then it ends in 'Deliver us!' (Reason #5 to have the UK edition is that the font here is much better)
When Moist tries to cram his fist in his mouth after hearing from Pump what he promised that night. What an illustrative gesture.
The golden suit. Holy cow. What is more hilarious and inappropriate?
The mental picture painted of the sorting room and the death of Mr Whobblebury...
'You just can't imagine what it was like in here, sir.'
'I think I can,' said Moist.
'I doubt if you can, sir.'
'I can, really.'
'I'm sure you can't, sir.'
'I can! All right?' shouted Moist. 'Do you think I can't see all those little chalk outlines? Now can we get on with it before I throw up?'
Talk about drawing out the moment and reluctance to reveal information leading to interest and to a more intensely drawn picture ... far better than if it had just been described.
The New Pie. It's one of those glorious common sense vs science things that makes Discworld so entertaining.
Moist making excuses to himself for stealing Teemer & Spools' paper. He's not just bad, he tries to convince himself that's he's actually good. This, more often seen in his frequent self-assurances that he's never actually hurt anyone, makes him a much more interesting character than if he just took advantage of people and didn't care. This gives him enough of a concience that he's easier to relate to and root for. So he's not exactly an antihero, the way Joe Gillis or that guy from Brave New World are, he's just ... an ahero. 'A-' as in asymmetrical.
The things thrown in for those who have followed the series: specifically, Sacharissa Cripslock. Those who have read The Truth know who she is as soon as she's introduced as 'the newspaper lady' but nevertheless we get to see her for the first time through Moist's eyes, and we know what he gets right, but he doesn't get enough right to make it sound like just an exposition device where the author speaks through him. Also, the wedding ring was a nice touch ... for new readers it's a character point (a wedding ring but nevertheless 'Miss') but for old ones we go 'a-haa.'
The virtues Tubso and Bissonomy, which have been forgotten ... I love how the word 'bissonomy' actually sounds like it could be a virtue.
Clockwork pastry lobsters
Moist wouldn't burn a book – see? He's a good guy way down inside, kind of.
There's just a hint dropped of what happened to Horsefry ... enough for us to connect the dots but not, for instance, Vetinari giving a reading of the newspaper article: 'Hmm, it also appears that a notable banker, Mr Crispin Horsefry, was attacked in his home last night by a terrible monster, and the Watch's werewolf is perplexed.' We can piece this together from snatches of conversation and internal monologue, it does not need to be artificially presented to us. Involving the reader.
Part 2
The endpapers covered in stamps (reason #2 to get the UK edition)
The title page ... but I think that's because it has the title on it.
The chapters, their titles, and the little sub-headings that list what's in the chapter but in such an obscure way that you have no idea what they mean until you read that far. 'The Bacon Sandwich of Regret' makes me giggle every time and is the trigger phrase for GP Glee Syndrome. Beware using it in my presence unless you like Obnoxiously Giddy.
The lead: 'They say that the prospect of being hanged in the morning concentrates a man's mind wonderfully; unfortunately, what the mind inevitably concentrates on is that it is in a body that, in the morning, is going to be hanged.' Not only is it a great hook to get you interested in the story (threat of death = involvement) but it includes the reader instantly by calling upon a well-known phrase, then turning it around to be amusing in a masterfully structured way. Subsequent revelation of the main character, his name, and how he reacts to the prospect of being hanged in the morning is an efficient, clear, and entertaining way to establish him while simultaneously getting the plot moving.
'That greatest of all treasures which is hope.'
The setup and reversal that is Vetinari's coach appearing at the execution – this, coupled with his idea of 'occupational therapy,' gives us a good idea what he's like and makes him central to the story before he actually appears.
'Moist filed that under "deeply suspicious."'
The escape and retrieval by Mr Pump: the perfect opportunity to see Moist's character in action and the perfect introduction of Pump 19. It's a surprise reveal, so the reader is both entertained and sympathetic to Moist, but he's just doing what he does and being who (and what) he is.
Moist paid $70 for a pin which Stanley later states is worth $50-$65, but a big deal is not made of this. This is the sort of thing that makes rereading so much fun.
Moist ponders the little events and chance decisions that are the turning points of history and then walks down the street that takes him to Miss Dearheart, a person who is not just the romantic interest but whose connections allow the climax of the book to progress the way it does and without whom, it is possible, the Challenge to the Clacks would not have been as successful as it was. However, it cuts to Groat back at the Post Office and the establishment of the Gnu, so you forget what you just read, before introducing her, and doesn't hit you on the head with 'LOOK IT'S A TURNING POINT!!!'
Thefordmustang, I am not one to carry a grudge, but when I find evidence to back up an ancient but friendly disagreement I cannot resist: Moist says 'we' (he and his parents?) left Lipwig 'When I was a kid.' So he would have learned Morporkian at an early enough age not to have an accent.
'... said almost-certainly-Miss Dearheart...' I love the gradual besottment in this scene. Moist doesn't step into the Golem Trust and get immediately floored by the striking Adora Belle, he comes to this through the course of a page and a half, throughout which his thoughts drift more and more out of his control. In fact that's the great thing about the internal monologue in this book, it actually works like thoughts – your brain drives itself most of the time and your thoughts go every which way, and then there are other thoughts, the you that watches you from inside, that try to correct the course or focus or whatever. Mr Pratchett explains the Second Thoughts (and Third Thoughts) idea much better in the Tiffany books and The Bromeliad. Anyway, this makes you actually feel like you're riding around in Moist's head, as opposed to him telling you the story. His thoughts are orderly when he's calm and collected but when he's nervous or excited in any way his thoughts start to race away from him, either happily about a scheme or Miss Dearheart when he ought to be focusing on something else, or in horror when he's in a scary situation. (more on this to follow)
Also, Moist doesn't meet Miss Dearheart just to meet Miss Dearheart, that scene plays a useful expository purpose insofar as establishing golems and revealing the immediacy of the threat to Postmasters not-so-long-past.
'I am the fibbermeister'
The way Moist keeps compromising – but in an entirely rational way – to stay in his position: He starts out with 'escape as soon as possible' then eases into 'play it straight for a few days, then run at the first opportunity,' but in only a day or so (and by page 89) is at 'hang on for a while and make some money off this, then escape.' And this is all in his own head; he isn't agreeing with anyone who tells him to stay put.
'His head was all over the wall... Look, he said to his imagination, if this is how you're going to behave, I shan't bring you again.' Thoughts racing away, again. See?
'This place is cursèd.'
The Order of the Post ... of course.
When Moist gets swept up in the moment and has his manic absurd conversation with the mail ... and then it ends in 'Deliver us!' (Reason #5 to have the UK edition is that the font here is much better)
When Moist tries to cram his fist in his mouth after hearing from Pump what he promised that night. What an illustrative gesture.
The golden suit. Holy cow. What is more hilarious and inappropriate?
The mental picture painted of the sorting room and the death of Mr Whobblebury...
'You just can't imagine what it was like in here, sir.'
'I think I can,' said Moist.
'I doubt if you can, sir.'
'I can, really.'
'I'm sure you can't, sir.'
'I can! All right?' shouted Moist. 'Do you think I can't see all those little chalk outlines? Now can we get on with it before I throw up?'
Talk about drawing out the moment and reluctance to reveal information leading to interest and to a more intensely drawn picture ... far better than if it had just been described.
The New Pie. It's one of those glorious common sense vs science things that makes Discworld so entertaining.
Moist making excuses to himself for stealing Teemer & Spools' paper. He's not just bad, he tries to convince himself that's he's actually good. This, more often seen in his frequent self-assurances that he's never actually hurt anyone, makes him a much more interesting character than if he just took advantage of people and didn't care. This gives him enough of a concience that he's easier to relate to and root for. So he's not exactly an antihero, the way Joe Gillis or that guy from Brave New World are, he's just ... an ahero. 'A-' as in asymmetrical.
The things thrown in for those who have followed the series: specifically, Sacharissa Cripslock. Those who have read The Truth know who she is as soon as she's introduced as 'the newspaper lady' but nevertheless we get to see her for the first time through Moist's eyes, and we know what he gets right, but he doesn't get enough right to make it sound like just an exposition device where the author speaks through him. Also, the wedding ring was a nice touch ... for new readers it's a character point (a wedding ring but nevertheless 'Miss') but for old ones we go 'a-haa.'
The virtues Tubso and Bissonomy, which have been forgotten ... I love how the word 'bissonomy' actually sounds like it could be a virtue.
Clockwork pastry lobsters
Moist wouldn't burn a book – see? He's a good guy way down inside, kind of.
There's just a hint dropped of what happened to Horsefry ... enough for us to connect the dots but not, for instance, Vetinari giving a reading of the newspaper article: 'Hmm, it also appears that a notable banker, Mr Crispin Horsefry, was attacked in his home last night by a terrible monster, and the Watch's werewolf is perplexed.' We can piece this together from snatches of conversation and internal monologue, it does not need to be artificially presented to us. Involving the reader.
Part 2
