Discworld Misc.
Mar. 31st, 2010 07:58 amDear Marcus Brigstocke, production staff of I've Never Seen Star Wars, and anyone else who may want to evangelize the good news of Discworld to the infidel:
Don't start them on Colour of Magic.
Listening to Ardal O'Hanlon berate it for being disjointed (which it is), lacking cohesion as a world (which it does) and not really all that funny (which it isn't) and tarring the rest of the series with the same brush, while lauding books that have a good strong story, compelling characters, and which just happen to be funny (which is a pretty bang-on description of most of the latter 2/3 of the series) was downright painful. If you read a good one and don't like it, fine, but don't read the weakest and first book in a very long series and assume they're all like that.
Yeesh.
In other news, I've been trying to read Small Gods again, over meals and while waiting for meetings to start, etc. When I'm drawing stuff from books it's always fun to imagine that someday I'll actually get to use it for an animated movie, though the chances of that ever happening are microscopically slim. Small Gods, on the other hand, will never get made. Not on this continent, anyway. Not for a thousand years. They say there's no such thing as bad publicity, but if a huge block of people boycotted a company for extending health care coverage to same-sex partners, imagine what they'd do if blatant blasphemy was spoon-fed to their children in animated form. In that tiny pocket universe where it does get made, and I get to direct it, no grand soliloquy on how this book was perhaps inordinately responsible for saving my own faith would prevent the scenario from going something like this:
CHRISTIAN RIGHT: How dare you insult the power and love and wisdom of the Almighty God!
ME: Um, it's not the god of Abraham, Jacob, and Isaac, it's a fictional god in a fictional world, and he's a tortoise.
C.R.: Yes but it's implied.
ME: Oh, well, that's quite a lot of figurative thinking from people who practically define themselves by taking things literally.
And then I would never work again, either because I'd be considered too much of a PR liability or because the mob with pitchforks and torches would have cut off my hands. Or head. And set everything on fire.
Listening to Ardal O'Hanlon berate it for being disjointed (which it is), lacking cohesion as a world (which it does) and not really all that funny (which it isn't) and tarring the rest of the series with the same brush, while lauding books that have a good strong story, compelling characters, and which just happen to be funny (which is a pretty bang-on description of most of the latter 2/3 of the series) was downright painful. If you read a good one and don't like it, fine, but don't read the weakest and first book in a very long series and assume they're all like that.
Yeesh.
In other news, I've been trying to read Small Gods again, over meals and while waiting for meetings to start, etc. When I'm drawing stuff from books it's always fun to imagine that someday I'll actually get to use it for an animated movie, though the chances of that ever happening are microscopically slim. Small Gods, on the other hand, will never get made. Not on this continent, anyway. Not for a thousand years. They say there's no such thing as bad publicity, but if a huge block of people boycotted a company for extending health care coverage to same-sex partners, imagine what they'd do if blatant blasphemy was spoon-fed to their children in animated form. In that tiny pocket universe where it does get made, and I get to direct it, no grand soliloquy on how this book was perhaps inordinately responsible for saving my own faith would prevent the scenario from going something like this:
CHRISTIAN RIGHT: How dare you insult the power and love and wisdom of the Almighty God!
ME: Um, it's not the god of Abraham, Jacob, and Isaac, it's a fictional god in a fictional world, and he's a tortoise.
C.R.: Yes but it's implied.
ME: Oh, well, that's quite a lot of figurative thinking from people who practically define themselves by taking things literally.
And then I would never work again, either because I'd be considered too much of a PR liability or because the mob with pitchforks and torches would have cut off my hands. Or head. And set everything on fire.