I’ve been thinking about this all weekend. But do you know what I really love about the Discworld characters? None of them are the chosen ones destined to save the world. They choose.
I’ve been reading a lot of other fantasy at the moment and while it’s been a lot of fun, inevitably there’s a prophecy or a reason for why The Hero must save the world, an alignment of stars which makes them good and traps them into their fate of do or die. Oh they might wriggle and complain on the hook of destiny, but it’s ultimately still a hook.
And then there’s Pratchett, where no one is chosen, not really. And even if somehow the gods or fate deign to try, they do it on their terms. They barter with the Lord of Death, they twist the arms of Gods, they patrol the streets at night, they cheat with hard boiled sweets and iron horse shoes that can go anywhere.
They choose to stand on the precipice between the dark and the light, because someone has to. And it might as well be them, because there’s no guarantee that someone else will.
And they do it for selfish reasons too, like love or spite. Fuck the stars, fuck fate. Sam Vimes has a book to read to his child by 6pm and come literal hell or high water, that book will be read.
And the world shines a little brighter for it.
And don’t forget Carrot, who IS chosen and decides to be a cop instead.
from Tumblr http://ift.tt/28QEA1K