Audio Review: Dragons at Crumbling Castle

Title: Dragons at Crumbling Castle and Other Tales
Author: Terry Pratchett, read by Julian Rhind-Tutt
Publisher: Listening Library 2015. Hardcover by Clarion, 2014 (337 pages).
Source: Library digital resources

Publisher's Blurb:
Dragons have invaded Crumbling Castle, and all of King Arthur's knights are either on holiday or visiting their grannies. It's a disaster!
 
Luckily, there's a spare suit of armour and a very small boy called Ralph who's willing to fill it. Together with Fortnight the Friday knight and Fossfiddle the wizard, Ralph sets out to defeat the fearsome fire-breathers.
 
But there's a teeny weeny surprise in store...
 
Fourteen fantastically funny stories from master storyteller Sir Terry Pratchett, full of time travel and tortoises, monsters and mayhem! 

My Review:
I wasn't quite sure if I was going to be disappointed, because these were among Pratchett's earliest published stories, and you know how that can go. I needn't have worried: they were great. Witty, insightful, well-written and also well-read, they were everything I love about Terry Pratchett. The title story is a delightful bit of nonsense...and so are the rest. The Carpet People make their first appearance in these stories, and I'll have to see what he did with them later, because they are wonderful, and their world is beautifully realized.

The stories, especially "The Speck" and some others show an early tendency to the political satire that became Pratchett's hallmark. In these stories it's mild, in part because they were written for a juvenile audience and in part (no doubt) because the writer was himself about 19 at the time. Adults will be entertained by the multiple levels of satire, but children will love the goofiness of many of the stories, so it's good for the family.

Julian Rhind-Tutt does a fantastic job of reading the stories, and his timing as well as his lovely British accent add a lot. I am tempted to say that everyone should listen to the audio version, but then I saw that the print version is illustrated, and if the illustrations are anything like the cover picture, I want to see them, too. So I guess one has to get both. 

My Recommendation:
It occurs to me that this book would be a great family read-aloud, or use the audio book for the long drive to Grandma's for Christmas. You won't be sorry.

FTC Disclosure: I checked Dragons at Crumbling Castle and Other Tales out of my (digital) library, and received nothing from the writer or publisher for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."  

And if goofiness is something you enjoy, be sure to check out our Ninja Librarian series, including the latest, now available from Amazon and Smashwords, as well as other on-line bookstores. Or order signed copies direct from the author!

 

D: Disc World

Reviewing Small Gods, a Discworld novel by Terry Pratchett.

(For the record, yes, I am working hard and stretching a bit to make this alphabet thing work out.  Wanna make something of it?).

Note: Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels are incredible fun and great satire. . . and suitable for young adults and up.  He's also brilliantly irreverent, so if that bothers you, watch out!

For anyone who isn't familiar with the books, Sir Terry Pratchett invented the Discworld, a disc-shaped planet held up by four elephants who stand on the back of the great A'tuin, the giant turtle.  Discworld, being flat, has given Pratchett a great platform for many, many satirical novels which send up everything from Hollywood (see Moving Pictures) to religion (which brings us to Small Gods).

 First, Small Gods is about belief as much as it is about religion, and maybe is best summed up, after nearly a whole book sending up religion (and noticing how seldom real faith happens, and pretty much accusing the leaders of religion of believing in nothing but themselves), by the following passage.  Simony, a cynical soldier who believes in nothing, addresses the god Om, who has just made himself rather obvious and undeniable, about the need to reconstruct the country.

"Will you help?"
VI.  And Brave, Too, To Declare Atheism Before Your God. [responds the god]
"This doesn't change anything, you know!" said Simony.  "Don't think you can get round me by existing!"

I'm tempted to leave my review right there, but I suppose there ought to be more. 

When Pratchett gets hold of the gods, he figures out a few things.  For one, the gods exist to the degree that they have believers, real believers.  In the case of Om, when the story opens, he has exactly one: Brutha, a novice in the temple in Omnia, and apparently a half-wit.  All the other Omnians believe in themselves, and in the usefulness of religion.   As is usually the case, of course, Brutha's half a wit proves better than most people's whole wits, and his faith is strong enough to allow him to disagree with his god, and forge his own way to what is right and good.  He may, in fact, be the only person in all the lands encompassed by the tale who gives a poop about justice and kindness.  This, as the Omnian  religious leaders find out the hard way, makes him a very dangerous man.

Other great characters (including those used to make fun of philosophy and technology) are Didactylos and his nephew (and philosophical apprentice cum engineer) Urn, and Cut-Me-Own-Hand-Off Dhblah, who sells things to the religious tourists.  Much of what he sells is supposedly edible, and "onna stick."  Then there's Om.  Nothing like a Great God who has tried to turn himself into a bull or something, and ends up stuck as a tortoise.  It's really hard to be god-like when you move that slowly, and even worse when you can't manage even a bit of lightning.  And if he can't keep Brutha alive, he's dead, because a god with no believers is done.

One final thought, which is also a "D" thought.  I wonder what my Dad, who was a Presbyterian minister (and taught me an appreciation for irreverence, though I may have taken it a bit farther than he wanted. . . ) would have thought of the book?  I have a sneaking feeling he might have approved.