You know, I’ve got to admit, there’s a couple of things I got for Christmas, that I haven’t told you about.
At least, not yet …
I think I’m going to remedy that, now, in telling you about something my Mum picked up for me.
And I’m …
Well …
Actually, I’ve got to be honest, I’m scrabbling for words, here.
I’m fairly sure I don’t necessarily want to use the phrase, “mixed feelings,” here, but don’t necessarily want to overuse it.
But it is true that that’s kinda the phrase I’m looking for, maybe.
After all, if you’ve been reading my words for a while, you’ll know how I’m something of a fan of Terry Pratchett, so getting Unseen Academicals for Christmas was both a treat, and something I’ve been mildly dreading.
Mildly might even be to mild a word, but let’s stick with that, shall we?
You might be wondering why.
But Terry’s been a favourite author of mine for a very long time, so when the news broke, a while back, that he’d been diagnosed with a form of Early-Onset Alzheimer’s was genuinely devastating: especially as it had — effectively — killed my paternal grandmother, years before she actually died.
So getting this book …
Phew …
Was …
Was …
Hmm …
Something to take slowly …
Which I must confess I did.
The plot sees the Faculty of Unseen University — when confronted by the realisation that they may be about to run out of money for food, unless they honour the terms of a rather BIG bequest — having to face the fact that they’re going to have to do the unthinkable.
Play football …
Added and abetted by by some of the actual ‘below-stairs’ staff of the University: including Glenda and her pies, Juliet — who, during the story, find out she may be the Disc’s greatest living fashion model —, Trevor — tin can kicker, and son of Ankh Morpork’s greatest footballer — and the mysterious Mr Nutt.
Who’s — seemingly — got a lot more going for him, than a talent for dribbling candles.
All this co-incides with the re-discovery of the city’s ancient rules of football, and Lord Vetinari’s attempts to tame the modern version of the game.
•••••
Now, normally, I’d be telling you how much I’ve enjoyed this.
Which I have.
But I’m also very aware — very aware — of the condition he has.
And reading Unseen Academicals, I was very aware of the trouble that writing has been giving him. There are times, Unseen Academicals reads a look like one of his earlier Discworld novels. And possibly one were he was still learning to be the writer we’ve come to know and love, today.
There’s also moments where he seemed — to me — to be genuinely struggling with his condition.
Choices of words, times when established characters seem out of kilter, times when the plot seems to be drifting a touch …
And there’s times when he’s still on form.
Especially when the gang from UU are concerned.
•••••
It just seems a shame to me, that I feel I can tell Alzheimer’s seems to be starting to affect him.
Saying that, however, I do know that that may well simply be the fact that he’s finding it difficult to to actually concentrate on the physical aspect of writing this entry in the Discworld series: he has, from what I can gather, been forced to rely on some fairly extensive dictation software to get the book done: and I think that’s possibly showing.
•••••
And I think that’s why I’m feeling a touch confused about Unseen Academicals.
The scars from the demon’s fangs are starting to show.
⌘⌘⌘
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