Terry Pratchett, TS Eliot, and the Dance

Ever since reading Wintersmith, the third book in the Tiffany Aching sub-series in the Discworld series, I have had a theory on a literary referent Pratchett may be using. There are a couple related refrains throughout T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets, and the best summation of the theme I have heard is the slight mash-up/condensation I heard a professor once give (or at least I think he did the mash-up, but it is possible it is my own mash-up of his condensation ...never can be sure).

"At the still point of the turning world, there is the dance, and there is only the dance"

Eliot was a bit of a mystic, especially in The Four Quartets. I had to study it some in a college class (although taught by a different professor than the one I just cited), and it is dense. I would simply note here the structure of paradox: a spinning world with a still point at the center, but that still point is not still; it is a dance, yet still thought of as ... still (wordplay intentional).

But, my main idea for this post is that I think Pratchett uses this refrain as a conceptual model for what he does with his characters and events, especially in later books. I think it captures his imagination, and has captured mine

As I said, I first started to think it, as best as I can remember, in reading Wintersmith. It may have started to form a little bit in the first two Tiffany Aching books (Wee Free Men and Hat Full of Sky), but Wintersmith is the natural place for it to come full force. First of all, the book begins with the "Dark Morris Dance" (which, according to TP, is his own invention as a spin on the traditional Morris Dance, cf the notes either at the beginning or end of the book), at the shift from winter to summer. In her sneaking watching of the dance, Tiffany's trouble begins when she gets into the middle of the dance, at which point she catches the attention of the wintersmith, since he is really at the center of the dance, and the confusion and his preoccupation with the human girl is that, in her rashness she has stepped into the place of lady summer, who is also supposed to be at the center of the dance.

I will come back in a bit to the concept of a human couple at the center of the dance, when I address the other major instance in the Discworld, which is Going Postal. But for here I want to note the other reason Wintersmith is the most natural place for this toconcept to come in, which is that TP is there using the Winter-Summer interplay. I have looked up what I can on The Four Quartets (I took the class in which I studied it close to 20 years ago, so that learning is a bit rusty, so I looked up some stuff again), and it seems that the agreed central motif in Eliot's 4-part poem is the 4-elements cosmology from antiquity (water-air-earth-fire). BUT it is also somewhat agreed that the 4-seasons structure is a secondary, albeit more latent, motif. So, it makes the most sense for Pratchett's use of the 4-Quartets dancing refrain to be most evident in the book in which he deals most directly with the seasons.


Going Postal

Ok, First things first: I never thought another book in the series could even begin to challenge Night Watch's place as my personal favorite. I also put off reading Going Postal because it was sort of a government in Ank Morpork book and the blurb didn't sound too exciting to me. Then I read it and really liked it. Then I recently re-read it again and realized that, while it probably did not unseat Night Watch from it's place at the top of my list, it did really challenge it. There is one theme that I may make a post on someday, namely the portrayal of linesmen on the clacks as a class of people, which TP gets inside of incredibly, much the way he got inside coppers in the Vimes series.

But what really blew me away, and what is the thing that I am going to examine here for looking at TP using Eliot's concept of the dance, is the Moist and Adora Belle arc. I simply loved it.

Ok, so, there are, it seems to me, two key scenes paired together via an image reversal. The first is when they dance in the aftermath of the burning of the post office. The basic image is that they dance as the post office burns and the hubbub of the rescue goes on around them (I love that word, hubbub, for the purpose of this discussion, because it has the word "hub" in it - a center of activity). In a sense they are at the center of it, dancing.

"He was back in the game. But, for now, by the light of the burning yesterdays, he waltzed with Miss Dearheart, while the scratch band scratched away."
(Going Postal, p. 273. trade paperback)

But, in this passage, it is not just that image that makes the theme jump off the page. It is also, alongside it, introspective verbage from Moist that puts the "stillness" aspect front and center too and wedded to the aspect of movement, particularly spinning.

"It was the thrill not of the chase but of the standing still, of remaining so calm, composed, and genuine that, for just long enough, you could fool the world and spin it on your finger."
(Ibid.)

Now, on to the second scene, and really, to me, the central one. It is the scene in which Moist comes clean with Adora Belle, tells her the whole truth. That's what makes this such an important scene, and thus raises this motif of dancing to a place of prominence in the work ... it is the scene where the relationship really happens: he is honest and she accepts him.
The description of the scene is simple, but is another very loaded tableau, like that at the post office fire:

"Around them, the city happened. Between them, the ashtray filled up with ash."
(Going Postal, p. 325, trade paperback)

This is what I meant by an image reversal, and what puts "the dance" here, even though one might at first object that there is no dancing involved on the page. The reversal is too clear not to have this connected with the first scene, and thus be involved with the dancing theme. Here, at the center is a picture of a still place, but one that is, rather, a dance of communication. The reversal is of the image of burning. In the post office scene the burning went on around them. In this scene it goes on between them (the ashtray filling up with ash ... note for those not familiar here: Adora Belle is the chain smoker).

The connection is made even more clear on the next page when the post office fire is directly mentioned (including a logic for the burning). Adora Belle suggests that he go to the roof of the PO and pray for his answer on how to beat the clacks (and I LOVE the comment on prayer here):

"Get yourself a little closer to heaven. And get down on your knees and pray. You know how to pray, don't you? You just put your hands together - and hope."
(Going Postal, p. 326, trade paperback)


(Sidenote: the logic for the PO fire is that now he can get to the roof; he could not do it before because the old mail was blocking the stairs)

Dancing and the Rhythm of Survival: Snuff and Raising Steam

For TP, dancing is sort of a symbol of coping with particular kinds of things in life, difficulties that have their own distinct rhythms. The first case I'll list is the bumps from landing after being momentarily airborne on the rough water that precedes the "Damn Slam," as the Wonderful Fanny does on the Quirm river (nicknamed "Old Treachery") in Snuff. It is Mrs Sillitoe, wife of the captain, who sums it up when telling Vimes about it and how to jump when you feel the boat lift:

"... and that's when you have to know enough to dance to the rhythm! Because if you don't dance to the rhythm of the slam, you'll dance with the devil soon enough!"
 (Snuff, p. 304, first release hardback)

The second instance I will note is in Raising Steam, when Moist climbs up and dances on top of the moving train:

" ... throwing caution to the winds, Moist danced on the top of the train, leaping from carriage to carriage, listening to the train's rhythm, moving his body to accommodate it and feeling the engine and the moods of the railway until it seemed he understood it."
(Raising Steam, p. 283, first release hardback)


Dancing and Social Justice

I think that one of the reason's TP has said he thinks Snuff may be his best book yet, despite the fact that many critics, including myself originally, think it's a bit lackluster compared to other books in the series, is that he brings out his social justice and humanitarian concerns so strongly, more front and center ... especially in the case of the goblins. The overall discussion of that theme is way too big to have here, and even too big to fill in material plot details for anyone who has not read the book. So, I won't even attempt ... if you have not read it ... do.

What I want to look at is the fact that here TP likes dancing here as well for his exposition. Basically he contrasts the goblins with the Nac Mac Feegle. Both live on the edge of society (the academic catchword for this is "marginalization"). But the Feegle have one advantage .. they can dance.

"They lived on the edge too, but they -- they danced on the edge, they jumped up and down on it, made faces at it, thumbed their snotty noses at it, refused to see the peril of their situation and, in general, seemed to have a huge appetite for life, alcohol, adventure and alcohol."
(Snuff, P. 200, first release hardback)


It is not a criticism of the goblins for not being like the Feegle. It is a searing condemnation of those who take advantage of the fact that they have not yet learned to dance like the Feegle.