Sunday 12 August 2018

Feet of Clay by Sir Terry Pratchett

Warning - This rambling discourse about the themes and character development of Feet of Clay will contain a few spoilers about the plot, more or less by accident.



About three-quarters of my way through Feet of Clay, I found myself wishing we'd seen more of Angua - both as a lead character and as a sidekick to Vimes. Not only is she one of my favourite characters in general but she's also Vimes' true protege in terms of cynicism and suppressed instincts. It would have been nice to see them paired up more often, instead of using her mainly as support cynicism for Carrot and various naive rookies. 

One does understand why Pratchett went that way. Vimes needs extended time with other cynics like whisky requires a drop of absinthe. Or at least this version of the man does. I have not been the greatest believer in Vimes' character evolution but on re-reading, it seems clearer.

Perhaps it is the themes of the book that make things so much clearer. Between the two attempts to make a king, the presence of Carrot as probable heir to the throne who doesn't want to be, and the absence of Vetinari's sharp direction, there's an awful lot of lines about what does and doesn't make a leader. The simplest definition is probably found with Mr Sock's yudasgoat - a leader is anyone whom people expect to be better off for following, regardless of whether they right or wrong. It is typical of Pratchett to pick an example of just how wrong it goes.

At this point in Vimes' career, he's just learning to be a leader, to be someone who people pay attention to. He's no longer just some drunk in charge of a pitifully small band of watchmen. Rich men claim to be his friend to gain advantage. The poor are no longer comfortable with his company. From a certain viewpoint, this book is about Vimes learning how to deal with that change and accompanying identity crisis, and how to be the watch commander he wishes to be.

Of course, Feet of Clay is about a huge amount more than Vimes, including all the other identity crises that fill the book. If there is a central theme to the book, it is the question "If I am not X, what am I?" Those crises range from the mainly comedic arc of Cheery's desire to express her feminity to the tragic rage of the Golem King and give us a book rich with subplots and intriguing characters. 

Cheery, whose story this is in no small part, is arguably Pratchett's greatest creation. Sometimes she's an everywoman and great comedic straight person; at other points she's a totem pole for transgressive behaviour, although done in a way artfully removed from real world transgression. The juxtaposition only enhances each facet of her character, as does the fact she's one of his most pleasant characters. Pratchett does a fantastic job of portraying the messed up, so its nice to see him do people who are, well, nice.

Not perfect though. Cheery - like just about every character in the book - is severely prejudiced in some ways. That's the flipside of the identity theme and Pratchett gives it no less voice. Some characters move on past their prejudice - others move on a little, albeit in a somewhat crabbed way - while for others its unresolved. That mightn't be as uplifting as some might wish but it feels real. And it feels kind. Pratchett accepts that prejudice is human and not something necessarily something that makes you a bad person. He doesn't demand that we be saints, pure in every thought and deed.

Instead, he sets the case for trying to be better than our flaws. That we don't have to be ruled by ingrained negative instincts. The answer to "If I am not X, what am I" is that we choose our own identity and that we write our words. That's best shown in the golem Dorfl's very literal example but both Angua and Cheery end up deciding their desires to be happy overrule their internal pictures of who they should be and are.

The most complicated resolution is Vimes. He moves past some of his prejudices, but partially out of spite. Many of his actions lack a certain legal legitimacy. I'd love to ask Pratchett whether the Vimes we see in Feet of Clay would be able to shake off the same supernatural compulsion towards revenge that he does in Thud!. But his actions are in pursuit of justice, at least as he perceives it. It might be somewhat contradictory for the Commander of the Watch to have a vigilante streak but contradiction is what Vimes is made of at this point. The point couldn't be made plainer by Vetinari:

“Commander, I always used to consider that you had a definite anti-authoritarian streak in you.”
“Sir?”
“It seems that you have managed to retain this even though you are authority.”
“Sir?”
“That’s practically zen.”

Being able to reconcile the contradictory parts of who we are is a huge step towards answering "What am I?". The Golem King couldn't. He has too many expectations on him that he can't escape or meet; too many ambitions he couldn't meet. But that makes him as much victim as villain. The true villains are those who seek to force those expectations on others and mould them. Even then, there are thin lines between those who set expectations and those who force them. Is Vetinari a villain? After all, he's been shaping and manipulating Vimes. Arguably yes, although of such a charismatic and altruistic nature to escape condemnation.

But in truth, I haven't thought enough about that question. That's something to watch for in the next read through - and with Feet of Clay, there's always another read through.

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