Hogfather

Hogfather was one I deliberately saved for Christmas, and it turned out to be a great choice. The story follows Death as he steps in to impersonate the Hogfather, while Susan investigates some increasingly odd happenings connected to belief itself. I listened to the audiobook, and despite only having read one other Discworld novel set later in the series, this worked very comfortably as an entry point.

I enjoyed it more than the other Discworld book I’ve read. That might be because of the festive framing, the particular cast of characters, or simply that I paid more attention to the audiobook this time. I did find that the first 80% landed better for me than the ending, though that may say more about my own distractions during the show more final “how it all comes together” section than about the book itself.

What I really appreciated was how Pratchett plays with the idea of belief, especially the distinctions between child and adult thinking, and how belief functions differently depending on role and responsibility. Susan is a particularly likeable protagonist, and her interactions with her employer, the “monsters”, her grandfather, and everyone else were consistently entertaining and sharp.

I also loved the way Pratchett leans on recognisably human experiences to anchor the absurd. Touches like the Cheer Fairy, the very specific “oh god” of a hangover, and the ongoing fun with Hex all felt clever without being heavy-handed. It’s that ability to draw you in with something immediately familiar before gently skewering it that really shines here.

Overall, this was a joyful seasonal read and has definitely nudged me toward looking forward to more Discworld books already sitting on my to-read list. show less

My partial re-read of Pratchett's Discworld series, starting with the Death books, continues with this one, in which the Hogfather, Discworld's equivalent of Santa Claus, has disappeared after someone put out a hit on him, and Death has to step in to do his job and keep belief in him alive.

With a premise like that, how can you go wrong? The mere thought of Death in a Santa suit trying very hard to get the hang of a proper "HO HO HO" is just inherently hilarious. But there's lots and lots of other delightful stuff in here too, from Death's granddaughter Susan dispatching monsters from under children's beds with a poker and a no-nonsense attitude, to Death's manservant Albert snarking wonderfully while wearing a Hogswatch pixie outfit, to show more Death's inevitable and endearing inclination to become a little too invested in his new job, to the marvelous creepiness of the Santa-cidal assassin Mr. Teatime, to the fact that when Pratchett turns to contemplating the true meaning of Christmas, what you get isn't saccharine platitudes, but some deconstruction of saccharine platitudes and a glimpse at something much deeper, much older, and much more fundamental. Even the bits with the wizards, which are usually the weak point in these Death-centered books, were fun, with Archchancellor Ridcully being on particularly fine Ridcully-ish form, and an entertaining appearance from Hex the magical computer. (I like Hex. He's basically made entirely of computer-related puns, and it amuses me greatly how that somehow never gets old.)

It may not be an absolutely perfect novel. As sometimes happens with Pratchett, some of the plot stuff maybe gets resolved a little too quickly. And the god of hangovers character -- excuse me, the oh god of hangovers character -- is a bit too much of a one-note joke for me. Nevertheless, this is probably one of my favorite Discworld books, and it holds up beautifully on a re-read. Even in July. show less

Another book in the Death sub-series in the Discworld collection (Discworld #20, #4 in Death series)
Another excellent satire wrapped in Christmas ribbons and wrapping paper! Christmas (or Hogswatch as its known in Discworld) isn't really my favorite thing, but Terry Pratchett has managed to make it one of my favorite Christmas themed stories!
Great book with a strong, charismatic woman lead and an unforgettable, creepy villain! Fully laced with originality and the nonsensical world that is Discworld- the Hogfather has an incredible balance of dark and light. The moral dilemmas fit in organically with the natural ride of the story- so while serious topics are utilized, his magic and humor provide a lighthearted edge that make it so much show more more enjoyable. (As is a common element and recurring opinion on the Pratchett novels) You'll even get to revisit some characters from the City Watch sub-series (That was a treat for me because Guards! Guards! was my first Discworld novel)
Saddle up and get ready for a Christmas-themed tale told in a way you're guaranteed never to have heard before! show less

This is now my favourite Discworld book so far. Never before did I read one that made me feel so emotional. This book is funny, has fantastic characters, a great plot and a lot of heart. It’s beautiful!

In this entry of the Discworld series, Death is doing the job of the Hogfather (Discworld’s Santa Claus) since an assassin was hired to make him disappear. Death provides a very realistic commentary on what Christmas is and what it should be. He has the help of Albert and their interactions are comedic gold. Besides the character of Death, that is one of the most brilliant and endearing characters ever, there’s also Susan, his grandaughter, Teatime, a very over the top mad assassin, Ridcully, a silly wizard, and many more.

One thing show more I love about Sir Pratchett’s writing is the subtle emotional aspects related to every character. He gives very little information now and then and yet lets the readers understand how a certain character’s past was like and why they think a certain way in the present. There is a lot sprinkled in about the difficult way Susan feels about her grandfather and about Nobby and Alfred’s childhoods, for example. I didn’t notice this as much in the books I read before in the series because the comedy and commentary always seemed to be at the forefront, but this one really made me feel for the characters.

This was my introduction to Susan because I haven’t read “Soul Music” yet and I loved her! She is one of the best Discworld characters so far. I love her line “don’t get scared, get angry”. She is the best babysitter and she sees and treats Teatime like he deserves - as if he was a child acting like a super villain. I love no nonsense female characters and Susan is almost at the same level as Granny Weatherwax.
Teatime (pronounced Teh-ah-tim-eh) is my favourite Discworld villain so far. He is so cartoonishly over the top, but he does kill some people quickly in a way that makes him still a bit scary.

The book has some surprising creepy scenes even if the comedy and clever moments are what stand out the most.

YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.
"So we can believe the big ones?"
YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.
"They're not the same at all!"
YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET—Death waved a hand. AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME...SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY BE JUDGED.
"Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what's the point—"
MY POINT EXACTLY.”

This is the best Christmas book ever and if you haven’t read it, you should. It’s not that long and it’s so easy to keep reading due to the interesting plot and the absence of chapters. show less

I read "Hogfather" twenty years ago. This is the first time I've re-read it since. The experience has shown me once again that no man can step into the same river, or in this case, book, twice. I'm not entirely the same person. These are not entirely the same times. So this is not the same book.

This is especially true of Terry Pratchett books, which are filled with so many spectacular verbal pyrotechnic displays that a first reading is spent going "Ooooh!" and "Aaaah!" and watching the pretty colours bouncing off your retinas.

Then there's the plot. It's always woven out of many threads and it makes a pattern that can only be seen from a metaphorical helicopter right at the end, which means it feels as though the plot is sneaking up on show more you so you end up giving it a lot of attention in case it does something while you're not looking.

This time around, I knew the plot and saw it for what it is, the shiny wrapping paper around the real heart of Pratchett's story. I still paused to go "Ooooh!" and "Aaah!" at the pyrotechnics but this time I was also looking for the pattern that they made.

What I saw was a book driven by two strong emotions: rage and hope.

Rage at an unjust world where poverty and suffering are seen as inevitable rather than as the consequence of the rights and privileges appropriated by those will never suffer poverty.

Hope that the human spirit can attack this injustice simply by believing profoundly in concepts like justice, mercy and duty.

I also saw a declaration of intent, almost a manifesto, about the role of fantasy, like Discworld, in making that change happen.

Let me give you some examples.

First a few samples of the pyrotechnics.

The book announces itself has having a philosophical intent (disarmingly wrapped in a self-deprecating humour) by opening with:

"Everything starts somewhere, although many physicists disagree.

But people have always been dimly aware of the problem with the start of things. They wonder how the snowplough driver gets to work, or how the makers of dictionaries look up the spellings of words. Yet there is the constant desire to find some point in the twisting, knotting, ravelling nets of space-time on which a metaphorical finger may be put to indicate that here, here, is the point where it all began..."
Wonderful stuff, not least because it is at the beginning and because it uses the word ravelling in a sentence.

Then there is the dry wit of statements like:

"The only sticky bit had been the embarrassment when her employer had found out she was a duchess because, in Mrs Gaiter's book, which was a rather short book with big handwriting, the upper crust wasn't supposed to work."
Or Archchancellor Ridcully of the Unseen University declaring:

"Real stupidity beats artificial intelligence every time."
Or Susan reflecting that:

"Education had been easy.
Learning things had been harder.
Getting an education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs and then you had the urge to pass it on."
Or witty observations on the gap between story and reality like:

"It was a strange but demonstrable fact that the sacks of toys carried by the Hogfather, no matter what they really contained, always appeared to have sticking out of the top a teddy bear, a toy soldier in the kind of colourful uniform that would stand out in a disco, a drum and a red-and-white candy cane. The actual contents always turned out to be a bit garish and costing $5.99."
But, while these sparkle, they are not where the passion is.

We get the first hints of rage, thinly disguised as sarcastic wit, when Pratchett describes, that bastion of privilege, the Assassins' Guild, which reminded me very much of Eton. It starts with Lord Downey expressing pride in the Guild he leads because it:

"practised the ultimate in democracy. You didn't need intelligence, social position, beauty or charm to hire it. You just needed money, which unlike the other stuff, was available to everyone. Except the poor, of course but there was no helping some people".
It moves on to display the reflexive, ingrained. self-serving entitlement of the rich and powerful when Downey reflects that:

"...the Guild took young boys and gave them a splendid education and incidentally taught them how to kill, cleanly and dispassionately, for money and for the good of society, or at least that part of society that had money, and what other kind of society was there?"


The two prime movers of this story are DEATH and his granddaughter, Susan.

DEATH is an anthropomorphic projection, created and sustained by human belief who nevertheless is hungry for change and in love with the possibilities that life offers. DEATH is an entity that is locked into a skeletal form and constantly awake who challenges his limitation by choosing to have two silver handled hairbrushes he can't use next to the bed he doesn't need to sleep in.

Susan is someone who longs to be normal but knows that she isn't. She experiences a constant pull to get involved and prevent chaos from rolling over everyone.

DEATH's rage against vast poverty, especially in the presence of wealth is shown in this discussion with Albert:



BE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU'VE GOT. IS THAT THE IDEA?
"That's about the size of it, master. A good God line that. Don't give 'em too much and tell 'em to be happy with it. Jam tomorrow, see."
THIS IS WRONG. Death hesitated. I MEAN IT'S RIGHT TO BE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU'VE GOT BUT YOU'VE GOT TO HAVE SOMETHING TO BE HAPPY ABOUT HAVING. THERE'S NO POINT IN BEING HAPPY ABOUT HAVING NOTHING
Then.

IT IS... UNFAIR
"That's life, master."
WELL, I'M NOT
"I meant, that's how things are meant to go, master," said Albert.
NO. YOU MEAN THIS IS HOW IT GOES.
Having roused DEATH's rage at injustice, Pratchett then gives us the key exchange between DEATH and Susan that explains the role of fantasy in helping humans reach that point where "the falling angel meets the rising ape".

I can't add anything to this but applause so I'll leave you with the text:

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4HE5riYMpY&w=560&h=315]

"All right," said Susan. "I'm not stupid. You're saying humans need... fantasies to make life bearable."

REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.

"Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little—"

YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING HOW TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.

"So we can believe the big ones?"

YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.

"They're not the same at all!"

YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET—Death waved a hand. AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME...SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY BE JUDGED.

"Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what's the point—"

MY POINT EXACTLY. show less

Unraveling Pratchett's plots is always a challenge. This one is ultimately about belief creating the gods that create the world and what happens to the world when the belief changes. On the surface, it's about Death stepping in to deliver toys on Hogswatch Night because the Auditors of the Universe have caused the Tooth Fairy to be kidnapped. See what I mean?

Somewhat darker than many of Pratchett's fantasies, this one buries some intriguing questions under the puns and humor, and it reaches far, far back into the imagined history of Discworld, when propitiating the unknown and unpredictable gods was serious business indeed.

The great fantasists are more than storytellers, they're mythmakers, and in Hogfather Sir Terry tackles the subject of myth head on. This is Pratchett at his best: the best jokes, biting commentary without being bluntly allegorical, and an ending that uplifts and reaffirms the human spirit. If you like Susan, the wizards, and DEATH, you'll love this book. And the ending conversation, about how stories make us human, and about how the small lies (the Hogfather, Soul Cake Duck) prepare us for the big ones (Justice, Purpose, Mercy) is one of the most inspiring and humane things I've read in a long while.

As a certain red-suited skeleton would say, HO HO HO.