Small Gods

Rating:
Summary: The Word According to Terry Pratchett
Review: "Small Gods" is another Discworld novel, and one of the best to date. Taking place far away from the more familiar setting of Ankh-Morpork, the story centers on the struggle for religious freedom, and the difference between truth and perception.

Through absolutely no fault of his own, Brutha, a novice in the church of Omnia, has the misfortune of meeting his God as a voice inside his own head. Whereas the church is one of persecution, power grabbing and torture, Brutha is a peace-loving individual, slow in thought and imagination. He is ill prepared for meeting a deity. Om, his God, isn't having a very good day either.

Practchett utilizes his unique sense of humor and the setting of Discworld, to satire modern culture and popular thought. In "Small Gods", the issues tackled are religion, fanaticism and the drive for power. Whereas all of the Discworld books are funny, "Small Gods" is both funny and extremely thought provoking, with perhaps the hint of a message.

The book isn't quite as silly as, for instance, "Reaper Man", but there is plenty of the traditional silliness throughout. No need to lose one's sense of humor when making a point. Pratchett manages with style. (The guide to Discworld at the back is pretty fun, as well.)

Rating:
Summary: Best Discworld Book & Stands On Its Own
Review: Disclosure: I'm a big Pratchett fan.

That being said... 'Small Gods' is a wonderful book whether you're a Discworld regular or someone who hasn't read any other part of the series.

Pratchett, as always, uses humor to make a bigger point - and in this book he really hits a home run. This book had me laughing out loud and thinking critically.

Great fun, great read and highly recommended.


Rating:
Summary: Perhaps the Best of the BEST?
Review: Having just finished "SMALL GODS", I am somewhat embarrassed. Having been a fan of Mr Pratchett, it's somewhat emabarrassing to be writing a review of one of his books. I mean, even thinking I'm going to tell a reader something they don't already know is like thinking about the smell of the color purple! Either you know it, or you don't!

SMALL GODS is the sort of inside joke rich people share at cocktail parties, sniggering at those who don't get it. They are also the sort of people Vorbis could have made use of.

Pratchett makes use of Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, a dash of Catholicism, and a pinch of heresy in this incredibly brilliant novel. Even more, while making you enjoy a long, loud belly-laugh, he makes you think. Agnostics and athiests will enjoy this tale of God come to earth in the guise of a tortise <"There's good eating in one of those">, and God's subsequent adventures on earth--Oops, I meant DiscWorld--trying to get belief back in him-oops-Himself reinstated.

Because, you see, a god can't exist without the belief of his believers. . .it gets rather complicated. . .

It gets by turns, hilarious, hysterical, funny, howlingly funny, scary, funny, howlingly funny, howlingly hysterical, hysterically scary, terrifying, and above all, imminently readable. And oddly enough, whatever your religious persuasion, or antithesis thereof, ultimately thought provoking.

READ THIS BOOK. IF NOT, I'LL ASK YOU WHY YOU DIDN'T.

(Oh dear, all caps. . . Read this book, children. It will keep HIM who speaks only in all CAPS away. You'll enjoy it. You might as well, because sooner or later HE is going to find you anyway, so have a good laugh before hand.)

ARE YOU DONE NOW?

Er, yes. I think so.

YOU DIDN'T MENTION ME IN YOUR REVIEW.

Right. . .

Must go, that slip could cost me my life. But if not, read SMALL GODS, and do yourself a favor.

Rating:
Summary: Perhaps the Best of the BEST?
Review: Having just finished "SMALL GODS", I am somewhat embarrassed. Having been a fan of Mr Pratchett, it's somewhat emabarrassing to be writing a review of one of his books. I mean, even thinking I'm going to tell a reader something they don't already know is like thinking about the smell of the color purple! Either you know it, or you don't!

SMALL GODS is the sort of inside joke rich people share at cocktail parties, sniggering at those who don't get it. They are also the sort of people Vorbis could have made use of.

Pratchett makes use of Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, a dash of Catholicism, and a pinch of heresy in this incredibly brilliant novel. Even more, while making you enjoy a long, loud belly-laugh, he makes you think. Agnostics and athiests will enjoy this tale of God come to earth in the guise of a tortise <"There's good eating in one of those">, and God's subsequent adventures on earth--Oops, I meant DiscWorld--trying to get belief back in him-oops-Himself reinstated.

Because, you see, a god can't exist without the belief of his believers. . .it gets rather complicated. . .

It gets by turns, hilarious, hysterical, funny, howlingly funny, scary, funny, howlingly funny, howlingly hysterical, hysterically scary, terrifying, and above all, imminently readable. And oddly enough, whatever your religious persuasion, or antithesis thereof, ultimately thought provoking.

READ THIS BOOK. IF NOT, I'LL ASK YOU WHY YOU DIDN'T.

(Oh dear, all caps. . . Read this book, children. It will keep HIM who speaks only in all CAPS away. You'll enjoy it. You might as well, because sooner or later HE is going to find you anyway, so have a good laugh before hand.)

ARE YOU DONE NOW?

Er, yes. I think so.

YOU DIDN'T MENTION ME IN YOUR REVIEW.

Right. . .

Must go, that slip could cost me my life. But if not, read SMALL GODS, and do yourself a favor.

Rating:
Summary: Possibly the best in the Discworld series
Review: I doubt that Pratchett is capable of "straight writing" of any length -- his ironic wit and off-balance turn of phrase likely infuse his every waking thought! Nevertheless, this novel has a definite dark side and the reader's laughter is apt to taper off into an uneasy awareness of just how nasty certain kinds of people can be. Especially the coldly fanatical religious types, about whom this is very much a cautionary tale. Om is the very small god of the title, once a great supernatural being with hundreds of thousands of believers keeping him stoked, but now reduced to the form of a two-pound desert tortoise and with only the steadfast belief of Brutha, a mere novice, keeping him alive. ("Alive" in the sense that gods, it seems, can die, just like everyone else.) The Omnian Church is doing well, though, ruling the populace through fear and torture and engendering no belief in the deity whatever. (The Omnians believe that the world is spherical and orbits the sun -- which on the Discworld is utter superstitious nonsense.) And at the top of that unpleasant heap is the dreaded Deacon Vorbis. Om can't read human minds but he can see their shapes, and Vorbis's mind has the shape of a steel ball. Nothing gets in and nothing gets out. Vorbis needs a new secretary -- the previous one having been used up -- and he takes Brutha out of his haven in the garden because of the young man's extraordinary memory. But being in close proximity to the Deacon is going to have an effect on Brutha's belief, and so is their diplomatic mission across the deep desert to Ephebe, home of happily contending philosophers and inventors. Some of the story's best characters appear in Ephebe, especially the Platonic-Aristotelian Didactylos and his apprentice, the proto-Archimedian Urn. An excellent book, humane, thoughtful, and not to be taken lightly at all.

Rating:
Summary: And You Thought Religious Fundamentalism Wasn't Funny
Review: I would say that this book makes a satirical strike against Organized Religion as an institution, but it pretty much goes after the disorganized ones as well, and takes a potshot or two at atheism and general philosophy along the way. The book is set in Pratchett's Discworld series, but you don't really need any background in Discworld other than to know the concept. There is no continuity to worry about and recognizing the cameos by recurring characters (Dibbler as Dblah, for example, or the orangutan librarian) is not necessary to enjoying the book. I'd only read a couple other Discworld books, and I got along fine. This is a different set of characters, a different part of the world, and a different kind of story from the typical Discworld fare.

The mechanics of divinity presented here are not new. The story relies on the idea that a god's power derives from strength of belief - the more believers, the more powerful the god. Every so often, a god returns to the Discworld to appoint a new prophet and renew his faith among the masses, maybe make a few updates to his holy writings. Om is a god with millions of worshippers, so when he comes to the Discworld to choose a prophet, he is surprised to find himself incarnated into the form of a small one-eyed tortoise. That's because while he has millions of people dedicated to the worship of Om, he only has one true believer. That believer, a young man named Brutha, is a simple novice with a unique talent - perfect memory - so that while he can't read or write, he has all the books of the church of Om committed to memory.

The division is drawn between the belief in a god and the following of a religion. While Om once had millions of believers, which made him strong among gods, and his people conquered nations in his name, they have since forgotten what their belief was for and instead came to believe in the symbols of the church, and the mundane trappings and figures of authority have supplanted the connection to the divine. This is the world that Brutha exists in. An oppressive theocracy dedicated to the worship of Om dominates the hearts and minds of the people. The ruthless Quisition exists to enforce the proper methods of worship, and to ferret out and remove any traces of heresy from the populace. The dreaded Deacon Vorbis leads the Quisition, and intends to set himself up as the next prophet of Om. Although Vorbis doesn't actually hear the voice of his god, he finds that declaring himself the prophet will make such a step irrelevant. And nobody but Brutha knows that the god Om has returned, albeit as a small reptile, and that Brutha hears his voice. And Brutha thinks the turtle might be lying.

The story is told in a witty, ironic, wry narrative style that never fails to elicit a smile or a chuckle from the reader. There may be occasional laugh-out-loud funny moments, their presence and frequency depending on your own inclination to laugh out loud. But there are also a great many moments of deeper examination, where the author examines the nature of belief, worship, and truth itself. This is the boldest move for Pratchett in this book. Pratchett examines several aspects of religion, and it's clear that when he's talking about human nature and religion in his fantasy world, he's really talking about our world. And he doesn't shy away from holding unpleasant aspects of these topics under scrutiny. He manages to be critical without being judgmental, and such a critical eye might make some readers uncomfortable, but I can see just as well how it could help others reaffirm their own faith in what they believe.

The parts of the book that focus on the minor characters of Simony and Urn are a little dull, and probably unnecessary. Pratchett almost gets sidetracked with this subplot consisting mostly of commentary on war and the arms race. Since this plot seems to spring out of nowhere fairly late in the story, it serves to distract from the characters that the reader has become attached to. I recommend the reader skim lightly over these parts and return to the main story as soon as possible. If Pratchett felt like making another commentary about war in addition to the one about religion, he probably ought to have made it in a separate book, rather than bundle it into this one.

Fortunately, the book's flaws are relatively minor, and easily overlooked. I wouldn't hesitate to recommend this to anyone who enjoys a little wit and humor, and can see the funny side of religious fundamentalism.

Rating:
Summary: Philosophers Have Right of Way
Review: If there is truth to the old adage that humor is simply tragedy revisited, then Terry Pratchett's Small Gods may be the world's funniest books. Pratchett has revisited the whole bloody history of religion, philosophy, government, and science as they are put to use in the service of war, death, and destruction, and served them up as a feast of knowing smiles, wicked grins, meaningful chuckles, spontaneous laughter, and a couple of uncontrollable guffaws for desert. But be warned, if you don't find it palatable to mix a bit of thinking and contemplation with your laughter, you might want to pass on this one.
Pratchett may be a philosopher disguised as a fantasy novelist and humorist. He gives us characters that brilliantly capture the gamut of human endeavor, from the pure malice of Vorbis, the true believer inquisitor, to the equally pure humanity of Brutha, the peasant prophet of brotherly love. He shows a keen understanding of the entire muddle in between, where most of us dwell, as well. He dissects the nature of belief and the relationship that humans have to their gods and vice-a-versa. And he shows exactly why the best human instincts so rarely win out in the end and what could happen when they do. Along the way, he scatters a plethora of erudite and silly jokes like land mines. Dissertations could be written on this book, but that would miss the point.
Avoid this book if you are adverse to cleverness and hilarity. Otherwise, put your hands on a copy post haste and join the delighted initiates of Pratchett's marvelous and witty world.


Rating:
Summary: Small Gods
Review: In "Small Gods", Terry Pratchett tackles religion and philosophy. This is both a good thing and a bad thing. Our character offerings this time are an evil inquisitor named Vorbis, a meek apprentice named Brutha, and their almighty God Om, here incarnated as a powerless tortoise. Religion is the subject of the first half of the book, as we get lots of jokes about the evils of oppressive theocracy of medieval mindsets. I don't mind humor on this topic; the problem lies more in Pratchett's lack of originality. The jokes are mostly old ones, with a distinctly dreary feel. Pratchett's humor works better in the conversations between Brutha and Om, where the 'logic' of religion clashes with the oddness of having a god who's a small tortoise to produce some bizarre results.

Brutha: That's Blasphemy!
Om: I can't blaspheme, I'm a God.

or

Om: Somebody up there likes me. It's me, of course.

Luckily, the boring religious passages flow by fast enough that they don't really weigh the book down, and things pick up once we move to the city of Ephebe, where robed philosophers clash over metaphysics and Om tries to earn a living via geometric skill. The ending is everything we've come to expect from a Pratchett ending. So while "Small Gods" may not be Discworld's high watermark, it's still well worth checking out.

Rating:
Summary: Small Gods
Review: In "Small Gods", Terry Pratchett tackles religion and philosophy. This is both a good thing and a bad thing. Our character offerings this time are an evil inquisitor named Vorbis, a meek apprentice named Brutha, and their almighty God Om, here incarnated as a powerless tortoise. Religion is the subject of the first half of the book, as we get lots of jokes about the evils of oppressive theocracy of medieval mindsets. I don't mind humor on this topic; the problem lies more in Pratchett's lack of originality. The jokes are mostly old ones, with a distinctly dreary feel. Pratchett's humor works better in the conversations between Brutha and Om, where the 'logic' of religion clashes with the oddness of having a god who's a small tortoise to produce some bizarre results.

Brutha: That's Blasphemy!
Om: I can't blaspheme, I'm a God.

or

Om: Somebody up there likes me. It's me, of course.

Luckily, the boring religious passages flow by fast enough that they don't really weigh the book down, and things pick up once we move to the city of Ephebe, where robed philosophers clash over metaphysics and Om tries to earn a living via geometric skill. The ending is everything we've come to expect from a Pratchett ending. So while "Small Gods" may not be Discworld's high watermark, it's still well worth checking out.

Rating:
Summary: Let there be lettuce! Let there be slices of melon!
Review: In Small Gods, the thirteenth novel of the Discworld, Terry Pratchett gets philosophical, religious, and existential on us, delivering a remarkably insightful look at man and his relationship (or lack thereof) with the gods. There are gods everywhere on the Discworld - you can't swing a simian librarian without hitting one - except, of course, only a few people can see them. Each small god lies in wait, desperately seeking to make someone believe in him; on the Discworld, gods need people more than people need gods, for belief is the food of the gods.

The story takes us far away from the environs of Ankh-Morpork to Omnia, a land on the Klatchian coast ruled by the priesthood of the Church of Om. It's an arid, harsh world where the Quisition works tirelessly to beat the sin out of individuals deemed to be suspicious (and almost no one is safe, for the priests regard the very existence of suspicion as proof of guilt). You would think that the Great God Om would bask in the glory and power of all that faith being demanded of the people, but ritual has replaced substance in Omnia; the people may worship Om, but they don't really believe in him anymore. For the past three years, the Great God Om has been stuck in the body of a one-eyed tortoise and has only now been able to find one man with the true flame of faith burning inside him. Unfortunately for Om, that one believer is Brutha, a novitiate in the Church whom, all would agree, is just a little bit slow on the uptake and is just about the last person Om would have chosen to become his new Prophet. Brutha does have a perfect memory, but all that memory crammed into his mind leaves little room left over for actual thought. In a way he fits right in, though, as the Church does all it can to discourage individual thought, because that kind of thing just leads to trouble.

Naturally, Brutha has a hard time accepting a tortoise as the Great God Om, and Om doesn't have the power to do anything but curl ineffectual oaths and curses at things that bother him. Om is actually a pretty surly little god, but spending three years as a tortoise, having to worry about falcons swooping down on you and then dropping you from a great height, tends to bring out the worst in gods. Brutha is increasingly disturbed to learn that Om never really gave his followers any instruction whatsoever; all of the holy books he knows by heart suddenly come into question, and that's hard on a true believer.

As the novel progresses, Brutha finds himself accompanying Deacon Vorbis, head of the Quisition, to the land of Ephebe where philosophers cover the landscape like locusts, argue violently among themselves, and generally live in barrels. One such philosopher is Didactylos, whose philosophy can basically be boiled down to the words "It's a funny old world." He now becomes the unifying part of an underground movement that insists, despite the tenets of the Church, that "the Turtle moves," that turtle being, of course, the Great A'Tuin. As so often happens, religious dispute breeds war, and the future of Omnia - not to mention the future of the Great God Om - lies in the palms of Brutha. There is only one thing you can be sure of in such a precarious situation: somewhere nearby, Cut-Me-On-Hand-Off Dhblah will be there selling all sorts of wossnames - onna stick.

Pratchett's razor-sharp wit cuts especially deep into religion, society, and the body politic in this novel. To some degree, organized religion is being satirized in these pages, but it's a healthy and honest sort of criticism; more than anything else, Small Gods is an ingeniously subtle philosophical examination of the meaning of life in an uncertain world. Pratchett offers one explanation as to how and why gods die, and there is more than enough weighty material in these pages to give us pause in between fits of laughter.