Small Gods (by Terry Pratchett)

It’s fifteen years since I last read ‘Small Gods’, thirteenth in Terry Pratchett’s lengthy Discworld series. I didn’t remember it with any great enthusiasm, but am determined to reread my way through the series at a rate of about one per month. So I have read it again over the past few days.

The story is essentially that of an likeable, hard-working young man called Brutha. He lives in a community of priests in the land of Omnia, but has not been ordained. His thought-processes are quite straightforward, and it turns out that he is the only person who actually believes in the god Om, despite the many books and prophets and the huge hierarchy of related church structure.

I wondered more than once if Brutha was intended to be portrayed as autistic. He has a photographic memory, which proves extremely important at several points in the book, and also tends to take commands and prophecies literally. He knows the entire Omnian scriptures by heart, including their references, and was brought up by a rigid and rather cruel grandmother who (had she been a man) would probably have been considered a prophet.

The story really starts when the god Om appears to Brutha in a rather unexpected form. He is able to communicate with him, although nobody else can hear Om speaking at all. And gradually Brutha realises that the structures and traditions that grew up, along with the many books of prophecies, were nearly all man-made; Om denies ever having required most of the rules.

The Omnian religion has become extremely harsh, with violators and blasphemers tortured and killed. Yet that has not stopped an underground society who don’t believe in Om, but are promoting what the Omnian priests consider to be heresy, propounded by a philosopher in the country of Ephebe (the Discworld equivalent of Ancient Greece).

The anti-hero of this book is an extremely unpleasant man called Vorbis. He is the antithesis of Brutha in just about every respect. He is the head of the ‘Quisition’, and appears not to have any kind or generous impulses at all. However he quickly realises how vital it is to work with someone who has an excellent memory and a simple faith, but doesn’t question orders. So he and Brutha are together a great deal.

I had entirely forgotten the actual storyline, which I thought was well-written and cleverly done. As ever there’s plenty of satire, and some humour; much of it related to the Greek philosophers, who are a delightful caricature of those we know of in earthly history.

The caricatures of religious fundamentalism are also very well done but less amusing;sadly, too much of it reflects reality even today, where people are still martyred in some countries for their beliefs. Pratchett was poking fun at organised religion, particularly the rigid kind that bears little resemblance to the principles of the founder. But he also gives us Brutha, of the simple faith, who ends up as the unlikely hero of the book.

I thought it a very interesting book this time around, and am glad I re-read it. I don’t think I would suggest this as a starting point for Pratchett’s work, although it stands alone and there are no characters (other than Death) who appeared in earlier books. But the mix of depth and frivolity, of satirical references and sometimes cruel satire could seem confusing, even overwhelming to someone unused to Pratchett’s style.

But for someone who has read other Discworld books, particularly Pyramids (which also, to some extent, looks at religious practices) I would certainly recommend ‘Small Gods’.

Review copyright 2020 Sue's Book Reviews