Small Gods

Small Gods by Terry Pratchett9780062237378

publication date: 1992
pages: 386
ISBN: 978-0-06-223737-8

In Small Gods, Terry Pratchett lampooned religion, God, gods, and the certainty and absurdity of men (and I mean men; basically none of the characters were female). Generally, Pratchett’s mockery was successful, and the book became more than just a send-up of humanity’s foibles.

Almost certainly, the book’s ultimate goal was to show the folly of religion. Pratchett’s plot, style, characters, and setting were all used to further that goal. Within the book, Pratchett created a fictional, long-established religion: The Church of the Great God Om. The country of Omnia was ruled by the Church and the Church dictated the laws of all Omnians. Pratchett introduced us to Brutha, a slow-witted and good-hearted Omnian monk who accidentally stumbled upon a quest on behalf of the Great God Om. Pratchett also presented Vorbis, a leader in the Church and an all-around bad guy. Finally, Pratchett introduced Om, the once-great god who remembered the days when he was powerful enough to smite enemies and sacrifice believers but who now, because of a decrease of faith in Omnia, is only a one-eyed tortoise who reluctantly relies on Brutha’s help.

Pratchett didn’t always take his plot too seriously. His writing style was satirical and clever. The pages were covered in jokes; some of which worked and some of which didn’t. Many of the jokes were at the expense of religion or the idea that human knowledge and certainty is anything less than ridiculous. For example, here was an exchange Brutha witnessed when he first met the learned philosophers from the country of Ephebe:

The [philosopher] called Xeno stepped forward, adjusting the hang of his toga.
“That’s right,” he said. “We’re philosophers. We think, therefore we am.”
“Are,” said the luckless paradox manufacturer automatically.
Xeno spun around. “I’ve just about had it up to here with you, Ibid!” he roared. He turned back to Brutha. “We are, therefore we am,” he said confidently. “That’s it.”

Although Pratchett used his plot as a tool to convey his message and showcase his cleverness, he did give the story a beginning, middle, and end, and I was usually invested in what was happening with Brutha, Vorbis, and Om. The story was too long, however, and became repetitive and dull. Also, Pratchett would sometimes write with such heavy irony or such deliberate passivity that the action was confusing and the story was unclear.

Also, the whole book left me with a vague feeling of bewilderment. Parts of it were funny or interesting, but it all seemed pointless. If Pratchett wanted to convince people of his anti-religion message, surely a heavy-handed book making fun of religious people wasn’t the best tactic? But if Pratchett instead wanted to entertain those who already believed in the stupidity of religion, than the whole book was like an echo chamber, full of self-congratulatory jokes.

With that said, the book was funny, clever, and filled with details plucked from Pratchett’s active imagination. Go ahead and give it a whirl, if you want.

4/6: worth reading

other reviews:

Faith Fusion
The Narratologist
SF Reviews