...and stayed and gave several answers.
Movable type comes to Ankh-Morpork, and all of the cliches and tropes of
the "crusading reporter" and "cynical Administration vs. the Press" story
and film play themselves out with typical confusing Discworld speed before
the reader's slightly bemused and somewhat bewildered gaze.
William de Worde, scapegrace younger son of a noble family, is making part
of his living as a public writer-down of things for people who are a bit
lacking in penmanship, but most of it comes from the fact that various nobles
in various parts of the Discworld REALLY want to know what's going on in
Ankh-Morpork and pay him well to write them monthly letters of such. He has
already tumbled to the fact that he can get an engraver to make him a plate
with all the info and spaces to fill in each client's name, thus collecting
several fees for, essentially, one job.
And then
someone*
yells "Stop the press..."
That is, the cart that has Ankh-Morpork's first moveable-type printing press
gets away on a hilly street on a cold ciy/foggy night.
William is struck by the idea -- struck so hard that he's unconscious for
some time.
And soon he's involved with the dwarfs who own the press, and instead of
a monthly letter to four or five clients for a large price each, he is printing
a daily newsletter -- well, newsPAPER -- that sells lots of copies for a
small amount.
And here's where the real trouble and the questions as to Just What Is Truth
begin.
The wizards are afraid that moveable type, if used to print something magickal,
may REMEMBER and pass some of the magick on to other things printed later.
Various Prominent Citizens are rather upset by William's manner of writing
things down with intent. Intent to publish, that is.
The Watch are upset partly over the same things as the PromCits, and partly
that the paper will stir up trouble.
The Patrician is upset about ALL of those things and at the thought of how
FAST things develop in the Big Wahoonie -- he drops by the offices and inquires
if the offices are located over any known rifts in reality or spacetime and
whether Mr. Cut Me Own Throat Dibbler has anything to do with the enterprise.
Dibbler, meanwhile, always quick to move with the times (or is that "the
Times"), is inventing the mendacious handbill.
And the phrase "If it weren't true, they wouldn't let them print it, right?"
enters the Ankh-Morpork lexicon.
Add in a sub-rosa "Committee to De-Select the Patrician", using a zombie
lawyer to employ a pair of out-of-town all-round Very Bad Men to carry out
an obscure (though not really all THAT hard to guess) criminal venture, the
Engraver's Guild's upset over the concept of moveable type and its attempts
to put the paper out of business, a rival paper (the "Inquirer") that sells
for less and specialises in stories of the "Woman in Lancre Gives Birth to
Cobra" variety and, last but hardly least, the arrest of the Patrician for
attempting to murder his own Secretary and abscond with a major part of the
City Treasury, and it's "Welcome to Ankh-Morpork, We Hope You Enjoy Your
Stay" for readers.
This book has a fair amount of new cast, though the primary members of the
Guards appear here and there, CMOT Dibbler sells sausages and has other ideas,
the Patrician is more visible (and developed/developing) than he's been in
a while. Gaspode the Wonder Dog becomes important when it's realised that
the only witness to the Patrician's apparent attack on his Secretary is an
elderly terrier, and Gaspode has attached himself to Foul Ole Ron and his
friends. Fans of Granny, Nannie, Magrat and Agnes will be disappointed by
a complete state of witchlessness, and the wizards from Unseen University
have only what amounts to a cameo
appearance**...
and Death is allowed only two short but Important appearances.
Here and there are to be seen bits of the inimitable Pratchettian Skewed
Vision -- Commander Vimes walks into the paper's office and threatens William
with his truncheon and William counter-threatens by pulling a notebook out
of HIS pocket. The most vicious and irredeemable thug-for-hire in the entire
world is also its greatest, most sensitive and most knowledgeable art expert.
As to What Is Truth? -- if it's in the paper, it must be true.
But it only has to be true 'til tomorrow...
NOTES: *That "somone"
would be dwarf Gunilly Goodmountain, owner of Ankh-Morpork's first moveable-type
press, or perhaps Caslong or Boddony, his assistants and yes, their names
ARE off type cases... {back}
**Fans of the Bursar,
however, will be pleased to know that the rest of the Faculty have finally
gotten his doseage of dried frog pills right; he now spends most of his days
hallucinating that he is a perfectly sane man...***
{back}
***Well, a perfectly sane man who can fly. In the average person, not so
important. However, given that he's a wizard... But they've mostly convinced
him not to soar above the campus walls. |
